24 comments/ 107112 views/ 7 favorites Super Wimp By: Skip1934a This is my first attempt to write a story of any kind. I don't know the first thing about how to do it. I'm just winging it, but I do have a plot in mind. But that might change. Not a lot of erotica in the first chapter, but we're just getting started here. Give me some feedback, but be kind. It's my story, and I claim the copyright. * Chapter 1: The Discussions "I just don't know what I can do about it, Brent." I continued. Brent and I were sharing a few afternoon beers at our usual hangout. "Like, last night she didn't come home until after 3 o'clock in the morning, and she went straight to the shower to make sure I couldn't tell she had been fucked all evening by that bastard. But I know that's what she did 'cause I followed them to that dingy No Tell Hotel across town that rents rooms by the hour. And this wasn't the first time, either." "What can I say, Skip? You knew she was a slut when you married her." "Yeah, yeah, I knew it, but she promised me she would change, and I would be her man. Her only man" "She's a slut, Skip, and she'll always be a slut. You should just dump her and get on with your life." Brent signaled the waitress to bring us another round of beer. "I can't, Brent. I love her. I really do. But I can't just keep on like I didn't know what she's doing. Our first couple of years were really good, and I thought for sure that she was gonna keep her promise." "Skip, you gotta assert yourself, man. Let her know who's the boss, know what I mean?" "Yeah, I guess." The waitress set the beers on the table and walked away. "I tried to do that, and all that did was make her shut me off from sex for a couple a weeks. She told me to back off, and when I was ready to calm down to let her know and she'd consider letting me have her again." "Sounds just like her, Skip. She's always thought her shit didn't stink." Brent guzzled his beer down in three swallows. "I gotta go, Skip. I promised the kids I'd take 'em to the zoo tonight. See ya around, buddy. Hope you can get your shit together and put the slut in her place." "Yeah, right. See you next weekend, if we're still on for golf." Skip thought Brent was just leaving so he wouldn't have to listen to me whine anymore. Guess I'll just go home and face the bitch. Skip pulled his clunker into the doublewide driveway stopping next to Sandy's brand new red Mustang. He went in through the kitchen door off the carport. Sandy was dressed to the nines, stirring sugar into a coffee. "Hi, Sandy. What's up?" "Hi, Skip. I'm on my way out in a few. Gotta go see Shirley. She wants to tell me about her new squeeze. There's left over pizza in the fridge. You can heat that up for supper. I'll be late getting back, so no need to wait up." "Whadda ya mean, late? How long can it take for Shirley to tell you about some new guy she's trying to fuck up?" "Oh, Skip, you know how it is. We always end up bar hoppin' when we get together." "Shit, Sandy, when are you gonna quit doin' that?" "Don't start on me again, buster. You know what happened last time you tried to argue that with me." "Yeah, I remember. You went out and stayed away for three days fucking some stud you picked up in a bar. What ever happened to your promise that I was gonna be your only man?" I was getting really worked up. She was my wife. How could she treat me like this? "Well, sweetheart, you shouldn't have pissed me off like you did. You knew I was a free spirit when we married. I gotta do my thing," "Maybe it's time for me to do my thing, Sandy." I walked through the kitchen into my home office and closed the door. I check on a few clients, and found nothing that needed my attention, so I just sat there fuming. I heard the kitchen door slam, knowing that it was Sandy leaving. I didn't need to follow her again. I knew she would be screwing that bastard again tonight. I stewed in my self-pity for a while and then called Shirley's number. She answered on the third ring, "This is Shirley" "Hi, Shirl, this is Skip. Is Sandy there? She said she might stop by." "No, she's not. Want me to tell her to call if she comes by?" "Nah. Nothin' important. Thanks Shirl." I cut the call off. Yep. Sandy never intended to see Shirley today. She went to fuck that bastard again. Or maybe some other bastard. I went into my sulk again, thinking back over our four year marriage and how it had evolved into my unwilling cuckolding. Chapter 2 up next, in which Skip makes a decision. What do you think it will be? Super Wimp Ch. 02-03 (i)Copyright Skip1934a 1 October 2006 This story is fiction, and none of the characters or events in this story is real This is chapter 2 of several chapters, probably five, if I can develop it in that few. Thanks, to those writers and readers who offered valuable advice and suggestions in their comments. Feedback is always welcome, as it is a major means of learning for a new writer. For those of you who merely attacked me personally, and offered no reason for not liking the story, your comments went straight to the trashcan. I invite you to seek other stories to read. This one is intended to be erotic, not pornographic. There will eventually be sex scenes but they are to advance the story, not your masturbation urges. A/N I promised a decision by Skip in this chapter. Regrettably, that decision will be delayed, probably until chapter 4. But he will make a decision than changes the direction of his life.(i /I) Skip was furious that Sandy had just walked out supposedly to see Shirley. He had the feeling that Shirley would not see Sandy tonight at all. He was sure that Sandy was going out to fuck that bastard. He dialed Shirley's number when he thought that Sandy would be there, if she was actually going to go there. "Hello?" "Hi, Shirl. Skip here. Is Sandy there? She said she might drop by." "No, Skip. She's not here. Want me to have her call you if she does?" "Nah. Nothing important Shirl. It can wait 'till she's home. How've you been?" "Things are going pretty well for now. I've got a new squeeze. Don't think you know him, though. His name's Greg, and he's a real nice kinda guy. I Think we're gonna get along just fine. Lot of things in common, and all that." "Well, that's great, Shirl. I'm happy for you. Listen, I've gotta go. Things to do, so talk to ya later, OK?" "Sure, Skip. See you around. Bye" Skip dropped the phone back on the hook. Shirley had been a friend of his since high school. They didn't really run in the same circles, but they saw each other at parties from time to time. He remembered that Shirley and Sandy met while the two of them were bar hopping with the same crowd of girls a few years ago. They seemed to fit well together for some unknown reason. Shirley didn't seem to share the general opinion that Sandy was a slut. So she stood up for Sandy when Skip and Sandy tied the knot four years ago. Was it really four years ago? He thought it seems like yesterday when he and Sandy married, he 24 and Sandy 21. And they were so happy together then. How had things gotten so botched up? The sex had been great. Sandy seemed to love his nine-inch cock, and she loved the way he ate her out. He remembered her telling him he was the best cunt sucker she had ever met. Well, Sandy wasn't the only one to tell him that. Almost every girl he had ever laid before he married Sandy said the same thing. But Sandy seemed to enjoy his talent more than most. He could bring her to orgasm after orgasm before he even thought about teasing his cock into her. Ha! Teasing his cock into her? Well it may have started that way, but he had always accelerated to hard humping when she started screaming for more cock. But now? Where did the passion go? Wherever it went, it went a couple of months ago. She used to come home from her 'girl's night out' ready and willing to get herself fucked silly. Then she started coming home and going right to the shower. "I feel dirty, Skip. Just let me shower, and then we can cuddle, OK?" And after the shower, the sex was only mediocre. Kinda like a pity fuck, Skip thought. His thought stayed on this theme until late into the night. He was determined to stay up until Sandy came home. He was going to ask her about her visit with Shirley. So he settled into his recliner with beer and pretzels, watching whatever he could find that appealed on TV. He was almost asleep when he heard a car pull into the driveway. He glanced at his watch and it was almost 3am. He couldn't see the car from the living room, so he stepped out into the shadows in the carport to see if it was Sandy. The headlights of the car had been extinguished, and it was not Sandy's Mustang. He could only see one person in the car. It was some guy, and he had his head back on the headrest. and was looking down into his lap. Skip watched for a minute and decided to just go back inside. He really didn't want to see what he thought was going on in the car. Twenty minutes later he heard a car door slam shut, then Sandy's key in the door into the kitchen from the carport. He heard the car leaving the driveway just as Sandy came into the living room. Sandy's blouse was pulled out from her skirt and none of the buttons were fastened. She had a silly grin on her face, as she often did when she was three sheets to the wind. "Where have you been, Sandy? And where's your Mustang?" "Oh, hi, honey. How's my lovin' hubby tonight?" Skip raised his voice to a higher level "Answer my fuckin' questions Sandy. Where have you been? And where's your car?" The tone of his voice ticked her off, even as drunk as she seemed to be. "Don't start on me you wimp! I'm not your kid. You don't control me. I go where I want, and I'll damn well leave my car where I want to." She tried to stare him down. Usually he would be the first to break eye contact, and lower his eye submissively in defeat. This time it didn't happen. "Sandy, answer me!" He was surprisingly emphatic. Sandy plopped down on the sofa, fire in her eyes. "OK, wimp. I went to dinner with a guy, Greg. Then we went to his apartment and fucked our brains out. OK? I left my car at the restaurant. You can take me there to get it tomorrow." "I knew it, you unfaithful bitch! This isn't the first time, either. Is it?" he was almost screaming. "You're damn right it's not the first time, Skip. I've been fucking around since before we were married. And you've been sucking other guy's cum outta me all along. So what's new, pussycat?" "What's new, if you want to call it new, is that I expect my wife to honor her wedding vows, and remain faithful to me. Remember, 'forsaking all others'?" "That's a bunch of crap. Wake up to the 21st century, wimp. Nobody does that anymore. They're just a bunch of words to fill out some time in the fuckin' ceremony." "I'm not a wimp, and you know it." "Oh, yeah? I'll just show you how much of a wimp you are." "How are you gonna do that?" "You'll see, lover boy. G'night." Sandy rose from the sofa and staggered to the bedroom. Just before she entered the room she turned and said, "Want some sloppy seconds, hun?" Skip didn't answer. He followed her to the bedroom but when he tried the door, he found it locked. He slept on the sofa that night. Not comfortably. Skip let Sandy out in the restaurant parking lot next to her Mustang. Neither said much to the other that morning. Sandy was pissed, and Skip was angry. Or was it the other way around? Or is it the same thing? Anyway, their words to each other were sparse, and cold. Skip waited as Sandy got into her car and drove away. He wasn't surprised that she didn't head back home, but the opposite direction. Skip had clients to check on from his home office, so he didn't even try to follow her. When he finished his work, Sandy was still not home. Skip was beginning not to care. He wasted the rest of the day in his office emailing potential clients, trying to pump up his business. Not that he needed to. He had a good client base that kept his computer consultant business doing well. He grossed over $250,000.00 in personal income the past year. He was frugal, though, and didn't spend much on himself. That's why he still drove a12 year old Chevy. But Sandy spent more than her share of his money, he mused. A new Mustang, tons of Victoria Secrets stuff, and shoes out the wahoo. Not to mention all the jewelry. Five thou worth just last month, he remembered. What was she doing? Stocking her own jewelry store or something? He wondered why he still loved her. After ordering in some Chinese for dinner he settled back in his office to go over his financial statements. The Chinese came, and he tipped the delivery boy, and took dinner into the office. Half way through the meal, he heard Sandy come in. He didn't bother to leave the office. She can get her own damn dinner, he thought. He got sleepy around 11pm, so he left the office and headed for the bedroom. When he got close he heard the unmistakable sounds of fucking through the closed door. He tried the door, and it was locked. "Shit!" he muttered. He went to the door to the carport and saw three cars- his, Sandy's, and the car that had been there the night before. I guess that's Greg's car, he thought. Shirley's new fuckbuddy? Was that who Sandy was fucking tonight? Again? And in his own bedroom? Skip slept on the uncomfortable sofa again. Fitfully. Super Wimp Chapter 3 Skip snoops, finds a journal, and fucks Sandy Skip woke twice during the night. Both times he slipped quietly to the bedroom door, and the first time Sandy was still going at it with whoever the guy was. Greg he assumed. The second time, he could hear nothing through the door. He checked the carport, and the third car was gone. He tried sleeping again but could only doze. He heard Sandy start the water in the shower of the master bedroom bath, so he went to the guest room bath and showered there. By the time he finished, he saw that the master bedroom door to the hall was open, so he went in, not finding Sandy. So he dressed and headed for the kitchen. As he got closer he heard Sandy's Mustang roar to life and pull out of the driveway. "Where the hell is she going now?' he wondered. He started the coffee and scrambled a few eggs, and made some toast. While he was getting that ready he remembered it was Saturday, and he had a tee time at the club, with Brent. No rush. He still had plenty of time to make their 11 o'clock tee time. He finished breakfast, and decided to do some snooping in Sandy's space. He was careful not to mess things up and draw attention to his invasion of her space. He didn't find anything unusual in the drawers, but when he opened a shoebox on the shelf in her closet he found a journal of some kind under a stack of old letters and other odds and ends. He thumbed through the pages of the journal and found some interesting entries. He decided to take a closer look later, since he had to get to the golf course. He hid the journal deep in a drawer of his desk in the home office, grabbed his golf bag and shoes and headed to the course. The conversation was casual at first, but by the third hole, Brent said, "Skip, your game is really off today. Something bothering you?" "Yeah. Sandy." Before he teed off for the next hole, Brent asked, "Need to talk about it/" His drive went straight down the fairway. "I don't know. Maybe it would help. I just feel like my world has turned to shit these last couple of months." Skip sliced his drive into the woods. "Skip, you're my best friend. I hate seeing you like this. Let's call this abortion off and go swallow some good brew. On me." "Yeah, this game isn't doing anything for me. Let's go back to the clubhouse." They jumped into the golf cart and headed back to the bar. Brent led Skip to a remote corner booth, and sitting, he said, "OK. Let's hear it buddy." Skip slipped in across from his friend, answering, "I don't really know where to start. So I'll just go back to when I first met Sandy and go from there. How much time you got, Brent?" "Well we were up for 19 holes, and I had nowhere to go after that, so I guess I've got 'til in the mornin'." "Thanks, Brent. You're a great guy. You remember that party we went to, oh, five years ago now, I guess. The one down by the lake? That's the first time I ever saw Sandy. I was so impressed, or maybe I was stunned by how attractive she seemed to me. I tried to stay close to her, and it seemed like she was ignoring me. I guess I just don't impress people. Never have. Every time I tried to strike up a conversation with her she just gave me a curt answer, or just turned away to talk to another guy. But later on she tripped over a fallen tree when she headed down to the lakeshore. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to her, but I could tell she was hurt. When she stood up and tried to walk, she limped. I went down and offered to help her back to a table or something, and I was surprised that she accepted. We got to talking, and she opened up to me a little. Her smile was captivating, and I guess I was hooked on her then. After talking for a while I asked her how her ankle was feeling. She said she thought it might be broken, 'cause it really was hurting. I offered to take her to a doctor, or the ER at the hospital, and she said that would be great. So we left. I think you saw us leave. I know some other guys did. The doctor at the ER checked her out, took x-rays and stuff. He looked at the results and told us it was just a sprain, and told her to just stay off of it for a while. He gave her a prescription for the pain, and we left. "I asked her where she wanted me to take her, and we ended up at her place. When I got her inside and sitting on the sofa, she asked me to stay for a little while. So I did, and one thing led to another, and we ended up in the sack. The next morning I took her back to the lake to get her car. I remember it was an old Chevy Vega. Must have been twenty-five or thirty years old. Maybe more. When did they quit making that piece of junk? It was a stick shift, so I offered to drive it back for her, and she followed in my car. Man, her's was a real piece of shit. When we got back, she invited me in for a beer. You know I never pass up free beer. Well, we ended up in the sack again. She was a tiger in bed, and that's when she told me she loved how I ate her out. I was on cloud nine by then and asked her if we could see each other again. She said she'd be disappointed if I didn't fuck her senseless every day. And that's what got us going together, if you can call it that. After a few days, some of the guys that were at the party told me she was a slut, and had fucked every man in the county. I didn't believe them. I though they were trying to scare me away from her so they could make a move on her. I guess I'm just gullible." Brent broke in, "Damn right you are, Skip. Those guys were right. But then, you've always been gullible, you know? From grammar school on. But go on." "Yeah. I know. I never was one to stand up for myself. Don't know why, It's just me, I guess. I have always backed down from confrontations. I just don't like controversy, and try to avoid them any way I can. You know I've always been like that. Shit, I can't count the times you helped me out of those kinds of situations. And I'll believe anything anybody tells me until I catch him or her in a lie. . So, anyway, we kept our thing going, and eventually I knew I loved her. I wanted to marry her, so we could spend the rest of our lives together, ya know? Live happily ever after. What I didn't know then was that she was spreading her pussy around just like I guess she always did. If ignorance were bliss I'd be a blister. But she said yes when I proposed, and we got married a year later. Well, you know that. Best man and all. I was in heaven, and I guess what they say about love being blind is true. I sure was blind. You'd think that someone with a Master's degree would be a little more savvy. Not me. You know as well as anybody that I'm a trusting soul. And I trusted Sandy, despite what all those guys told me about her. "But I know now who and what she is. I still love her, though. What the fuck am I going to do, Brent?" "I don't know, Skip. I guess you just need to make a decision. If you love her enough to stay with her while she fucks around, you just have to accept it for what it is, I guess. But I hate to see you in a situation like that. Maybe you need to ship her out. You know, get a divorce and cut your losses. Get back into the single crowd and look for someone else." "Yeah, you're prob'ly right. Look, I'm gonna head back to the house. See ya 'round, OK? Thanks for the bull session, buddy." "Yeah, no sweat, Skip. Hope you can work it out." As Skip headed home, Brent's words 'get a divorce and cut your losses' resonated in his head. He made a decision. Get some evidence so he could use it in a divorce if he wanted to go that way. So he made a detour and stopped at an electronics distributor where Carl, another friend worked. He was sure Carl would know what he needed, and sure enough, he came away with motion activated miniature wireless video cameras that he could download directly into his computer from the base receiver. He had a GPS device that he could hide under the Mustang, and track her car wherever it went within transmitting distance, about twelve miles, the instructions told him. Then a small voice activated recorder he would put in her car to capture conversation. When he got home, Sandy was still gone. Good, he thought. I'll go ahead and install the video cameras. In the master bedroom he put one behind a large picture hanging on the wall. He had to make a small hole in the picture to give the camera a view of the bedroom, but he was proud that the hole was virtually un-noticeable. Then in the living room be put one up beside the smoke detector. It looked like part of the detector, he thought, surveying his work. The last camera was installed just above the carport, aimed to view the driveway. Since they were wireless transmitters, he finished quickly. He was in his office checking that the receiver worked and he could download the recordings to his computer when he heard the distinctive sound of the Mustang in the driveway. He shut down the computer, and went out to the kitchen. Sandy was just coming through the door, "Hi, Skip," she said, smiling brightly, just as she used to do when they were first married, "How's my lover doing this afternoon?" "I... I'm fine, Sandy. Where've you been?" "Oh, Macy's had a big sale on today, and I spent a sinful amount of your money," she replied, smiling broadly again. "Would you bring them in for me, honey? I'll make it worth your while." This time she winked with her dazzling smile. "Sure. I'll get 'em in." Skip headed for the Mustang. While he was doing that Sandy was thinking she needed to butter him up a bit, just to keep him in line. She thought he was getting a bit antsy about what she was doing. She started peeling off her clothes, leaving a trail of them from the kitchen to their bedroom. As Skip came in, loaded with boxes, hanging clothes, and bags of stuff he didn't even look at, he saw Sandy's trail of clothes, and he knew what she was doing. She used to do that a lot when she was horny. His cock started rising. When he got to the bedroom he started, "My god Sandy, did you leave anything in the store?" He was going to say more but the sight of Sandy on the bed took his breath away. There she was, in nothing but garter belt, stockings and shoes, head propped up on two pillows, grinning widely "Lover," she said, " just drop that stuff in the corner and come to me. I have something for you. I know you'll like it." Her grin changed to that cute little impish pout she used when she was aroused, and unsated. The arena was set to go. Skip dropped everything in a corner and quickly shed his clothes. Before he even finished undressing, Sandy cooed, "hurry up, lover. I need your cock in me now. I'm so horny I could scream." He mounted the bed, kneeling between her open thighs. "Guide my cock in, Sandy, I'm as ready as I can be for this." She reached between her open thighs and felt the thick cock head. She sighed passionately as she looked up at her husband and guided his big tool into her opening. As she pressed it to the mouth of her pussy he pushed gently inserting his cock filling her as deeply as he was able. She was able to accommodate his size easily as he slid inside her. Skip noticed that she was stretched and now her tunnel was being stretched again. Super Wimp Ch. 02-03 As he held her legs open they stuck straight out and up in the air. Her body pushed back against his as he began to move in and out of her now with long slow strokes. He bent down and kissed her lips sucking on her tongue as her legs went over his shoulders. He fed her his tongue as he fed her his cock. He held her legs under his arms now and lifted them still higher. He pushed deep and held himself all the way inside her. He slid her legs back and up until her knees were over her head, She moaned feeling his cock go even deeper into her hole in this position. They began to meet together in the rhythm they both found worked for them. Sandy began a low growling deep within her that Skip recognized as a want for orgasm. As he kissed her passionately on the lips and released her legs now, she immediately wrapped them around his back and pushed her feet down on his ass trying to get him even deeper into her. "Oh yes my love, fuck me. Let my pussy ride on your wonderful cock." She whispered in his ear as he pumped into her. Skip began stroking into her faster and faster building to a crescendo that brought Sandy to a wonderful climax. But Skip didn't slow down. He wanted her to cum time and time again before he released his seed into her slippery, wet cannel. They fucked and humped and thrust their bodies against each other and as they did he held her and she held him as they kissed over and over again. Sandy was riding orgasm after orgasm now and was almost delirious with her passion and lust now. "OH fuck yes! Oh God, fuck me Skip. Oh yes fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuckmedammit", she was almost screaming now as her next orgasm swept over her and gave her such pleasure. Sandy's body took over now and her pussy clamped tightly around the shaft of his cock making him moan with pleasure! Sandy held him with her hands on his ass pulling him into her. "Deeper, fuck me deeper. Cum in my womb Skip, give me all of your cum", she screamed as he drove into her one last time. He was just about to cum, and Sandy was holding her hands on his big strong arms squeezing his muscles as they kissed harder and harder. Then he released her lips and she said, "Oh God I feel your cock so deep, so very deep my love. I want to feel you're cum pumping into me, fill my body!" He arched his back and pushed his cock as deep as he could get it. He started to grunt as his ass tightened and squeezed as he held his cock deep inside her pussy. And then his body started to flex and stiffen and she knew he was about to spew his load of seed deep inside her. Sandy cried out, "Oh God! Oh yes Skip, cum inside me now! Oh my god I can feel it! I feel your cum pumping into me. I want it all baby!" Skip exploded, dumping spurt after spurt deep inside his slut wife until he had emptied himself. Both were near exhaustion now, and Skip held himself above her quaking body until his cock began to deflate. He lowered himself, onto his back, next to his sexy, slutty wife. They lay there side by side for what seemed like a long time, but was likely only minutes before either spoke. Sandy was the first to speak, "Skip, that was the absolute best. So raw. So intense. I love you, baby." She spooned herself against his side. Skip was sated. As he listened to Sandy he wondered where that was coming from. It certainly wasn't what she had been dishing out to him for the last couple of months. But, he thought, she seems so genuine now. Not the bitch she's been lately. Was she coming back to him now? He was confused. :"It was good, wasn't it," he answered, not a question, a statement. They continued to lie together in an afterglow, a kind of euphoria that Skip had not felt in a while. When he noticed that Sandy was asleep, he disengaged from her snuggled body and went to shower. Later, Skip and Sandy enjoyed a quiet dinner at home, and things seemed to be looking up for Skip. But he didn't want to wallow in false hope. So he did his best to keep things between he and Sandy improving. He hoped it wasn't a long shot. They had another steaming session of fucking when they went to bed that night. The next day was Sunday, and Skip fully expected Sandy to go off again with Greg or someone else. He was surprised that she didn't. She stayed at home and seemed to be trying to make things better for Skip. He loved it. He did get a chance to monitor the recordings from the hidden video cameras, when Sandy was on the phone for a while. They worked better than he would have expected. The video was surprisingly good, and the audio was clear. He decided to keep the recording, so he downloaded it to his computer, and saved it in a pass worded file. The rest of Sunday was unremarkable, except the sex they had in the late afternoon. We'll see what tomorrow brings, he thought as he drifted off to a comfortable sleep. Super Wimp Ch. 04-05 Super Wimp Chapter 4 Copyright Skip1934a 8 October 2006 This story is fiction, and none of the characters or events in this story is real My sincere appreciation to AsylumSeeker, my wonderful editor for the two final chapters. A special thank you to curl4ever for offering useful suggestions as a beta reader. Thanks, too, to those writers and readers who offered valuable advice and suggestions in their comments. Feedback is always welcome, as it is a major means of learning for a new writer. For those of you who merely attacked me personally, and offered no reason for not liking the story, your comments went straight to the trashcan. I invite you to seek other stories to read. An urgent email and a revealing video dialog To Skip's amazement, Sandy was up before him and even had breakfast ready when he sauntered into the kitchen intent on making coffee. After they shared a pleasant breakfast, Skip went to his office to check email. Most of them looked innocuous, routine, or like junk, but one was tagged as urgent so he opened it first. He never made it to the others. It was from Harold, the owner of Clemens and Associates, a client of his. He had a serious problem with his computer network. Skip used his cell phone to call Harold, and after a cursory dialog, Skip thought he needed to go onsite for this one. He told Harold he'd be there in an hour. On his way out the door he yelled to Sandy that he was going to a client's location and would likely be back in the early evening. Otherwise, he would call and let her know what was going on. For some reason he felt unusually good this morning. Not a worry in the world. He guessed it was] because of how Sandy has been acting these last couple of days, he thought. He made it to the location almost right at the hour he had promised. Harold saw him immediately when the secretary buzzed to announce Skip's arrival. "Skip. Good to see you. Come on in and have a seat. Let's talk about the problem a little more and see where you think it is. Want coffee?" "Thanks, I'd love some; black." Harold buzzed his secretary and asked her to bring in coffee for the two of them. Then they started talking about the network issue. Harold was showing the difficulty he was having with his workstation when the coffee came. It was obvious after seeing the effect the problem was having on Harold's machine that, if all the other stations were responding the same way, he had a long day ahead of him. The network was down, but each station could work as a stand-alone. However] the server would not be available. He told Harold what he thought it would take to fix everything, and quoted a price. Harold grimaced, but nodded his acceptance. "Go ahead, Skip. I'm almost crippled as it is, and I need to get the network back up in the worst way. When can you get to it?" "I can start now. But I'll need to go down the street to the wholesale warehouse and pick up the needed parts. I'll head out and be back as soon as I can." Skip got up, gulped down the rest of his lukewarm coffee, and headed out. Harold walked with him, making small talk until they got to the exit. "I'll be back in just a few," Skip said as the men shook hands at the door. He pulled out his cell phone on his way to the warehouse and called home to tell Sandy he'd be gone most of the day, as he had expected. It was busy. Well, I'll call back in a few minutes, he thought, closing the cell phone and dropping it on the seat beside him. As he returned from the warehouse he mulled over how to tackle the job with the least amount of intrusion on his customer's time while still getting it done today. He figured he could repair three stations an hour. With 25 stations and the server it would take until early evening to get everything back online and tweaked. He thought Harold would be pleased with the fix. He wasn't able to get the same network card that Harold's server was using. The only network cards he could find operated at a higher speed. He was sure Harold would like that. When he got back, Skip told him what he was going to be doing and then started on Harold's station first. He worked quickly, but with care, so he would get it done right the first time. At quitting time Harold found him to see how the fix was coming along. Skip reported "Pretty well. I should be able to finish up in another hour to an hour and a half. Got anybody who can hang with me until then to lock up?" "The security guard can let you out. I'll tell him to watch for you." "Fine. Can I leave the invoice with him, or would you rather I mail it to you?" "I think I'd rather you mail it, if you don't mind." "No problem. I can do that." Two hours later Skip had finished the job, including a test at each station. He felt proud of the job he had done. Skip headed home, hoping Sandy would still be in a good mood, and maybe even have dinner ready for him. The traffic was light at this time of day, so he made it home just before eight. Sandy was in the kitchen when he went in from the carport. "Hi, Sandy, I'm back." "I'm glad, Skip. I missed you today. And for once I didn't have anywhere to go, so I just piddled around the house, bored as all hell. Have you eaten?" "No. Have you got anything?" "Sure, honey. I haven't eaten either, and I can whip up something in a jiffy. Go sit down and watch TV or something. I'll call you when it's on the table. Kiss me?" Skip took her in his arms and kissed her long and hard, their tongues dueling for supremacy. Skip thought Sandy won. "Wow, honey, are you hot or what?" "Just welcoming my wonderful husband home," she announced, grinning ear to ear. "Now get lost so I can fix something." "Okay. I'll watch the tube 'til you call me." When he turned to walk away Sandy playfully slapped him on the ass. Now that's the Sandy I married, he thought, as he picked up the remote to start the TV. Things were picking up around here and it was finally starting to feel like a real marriage again. All he could find to watch were the latest stupid sitcoms, so he picked the best of the bad and settled in until dinner was ready. Sandy called him to dinner an hour later. She had cooked up some kind of casserole that was actually pretty good. Sandy didn't cook much, but this time Skip actually enjoyed the meal. Their conversation was rather light and casual. Skip was feeling good. Things seemed to be looking up in his life now that Sandy wasn't running around on him. They cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen together like they had early in their marriage. Sandy asked "Want to go to bed early and play around a little, lover?" "I'd like nothing better, sweetheart. But I need to check on some clients first. You go ahead, and I'll be in later." Sandy flashed him that sexy pout. "Okay. Don't be too long." She headed toward the bedroom. Skip cranked up his computer and, on a lark, switched on the feed from the video cameras. Not from the recorder, the live feed. He watched Sandy undressing in the bedroom. Damn, she's sexy, he thought. He watched Sandy walk naked into her walk-in closet fondling her own breasts as she went. He kept the live feed streaming, waiting for his sexy wife to come back into view. What's taking her so long, he thought? Three or four minutes later he watched her come out of the closet with a concerned look on her face. She started going through the drawers in her dresser, apparently looking for something. What? Then the thought struck him; her journal? Was she looking for the journal he had hidden in his desk drawer? Maybe so; he thought he'd better distract her, so he went to the bedroom just as she was closing one of the drawers. "Sandy? It looks like I'll be a while in the office, so I'll wake you when I'm ready to play, okay?' "Oh. Okay, darling, but don't stay up all night. I need you in the bed tonight." "I'll try to make it quick," Skip said, retreating from the door and heading back to the office. He watched the monitor for a moment and decided that Sandy had been successfully distracted. Then he dug the journal from the drawer he had hidden it in and started thumbing through the entries from the beginning. The early entries seemed rather mundane, so he flipped back to the later accounts. These were the strange ones. There was a date followed by some kind of shorthand, he mused. The entry he was studying was for a day some four months ago. After the date he read some initials, a time, and the name of that No Tell Motel across town. What's this all about, he wondered. All of the entries were not like that one, but there were others that were, interspersed with more normal stuff. His eyes fell on still another strange entry. It was what seemed to be a column of numbers with a total at the bottom. He quickly added the figures, and the last set at the bottom was indeed a total. 4,693,408.00. For some reason that number was vaguely familiar to him; he couldn't put his finger on it, though. He put the journal aside and pondered. Oh well, maybe it'll come to me later, he thought. Skip decided to check the video recorder so he flipped] the switch to feed the recording to his monitor. It was a fresh tape that he had just inserted in the recorder that morning. The scene popped up on the screen. He saw Sandy making the bed and straightening things around the room. As she left the room the recording stopped. The next clip showed] Sandy changing clothes. She rummaged through the dresser pulling out what she was going to wear. He watched as she stripped what she had on from her body, tossing everything into a pile on the floor. He watched as Sandy hooked a garter belt on, one of those sexy things she had bought at Victoria Secrets. He watched as she pulled on the stockings and attached them to the garter belt. Fishnets? Yes, fishnets. Then she put on a half-cup bra. It was one of the ones Skip really liked, with the nipples barely peeking out over the top of the satin cup. Next came the fuck-me pumps she loved so much. He watched her move to the full-length mirror on the back of the walk-in closet door. She watched herself as she preened before the mirror, tweaking a nipple occasionally, and rubbing a finger over her pussy. She turned this way and that, admiring her own beauty. He watched the monitor as she walked away from the mirror and pulled some jewelry from her case. She went back to the mirror and attached diamond studded dangling earrings into the pierced lobe of each ear. She picked up the gold necklace with a diamond pendant that matched the earrings, admired it for a moment, and slipped it around her neck. She primped for a moment or so more, then turned and left the room with her sexy hips swaying as she did. Man, that was hot, thought Skip. He wondered] why she dressed like that? The reason became painfully obvious when the next scene began. The time stamp on the recording showed half past eleven in the morning, half an hour after the previous scene. The footage started as Sandy entered the room, leading Greg in with her hand pulling him by the cock exposed through the open fly of his slacks. She was looking over her shoulder at him, smiling at the grin on his face. "I'm really hot for you today, Greg. Let's get the rest of your clothes off and fuck like a couple of minks." She led him to the bed. When he sat down she started pulling his clothes off. He kept trying to paw her tits. "Hang on Tiger, we'll get to that soon enough. Right now I want that cock in my mouth. Just lie back on the bed and enjoy." Greg did as she suggested, and Sandy knelt on the floor and took his cock into her warm mouth. Sandy had an exceptional talent in that she could deepthroat almost any cock she had ever sucked. She was doing just that as Skip watched. "Shit!" Skip exclaimed, his eyes glued to the monitor. "That fucking slut! I've had all I can stomach of this crap." But he continued to watch, nonetheless. It would have made a good porn movie, he thought, if it just weren't his cheating wife in the starring role. The display continued, showing the blowjob followed by a variety of positions the pair tried as Greg worked Sandy through a three or four orgasm tryst that ended] with Greg's final orgasm. They lay there side by side on the bed until Sandy broke the silence. "That was great, Greg. I feel so fulfilled." After a moment of thought, she continued, "Say, how is your project going?" Greg appeared surprised. "Project? What project?" "Well, aren't you trying to hack into Skip's computer? Isn't that why you wanted me to give you those notes about his net worth?" Bingo! Skip realized immediately what the journal entry with the summed column of figures was for. It was his net worth, or close to it. Damn and double damn, he thought. What the fuck is going on here? Greg replied, "Yeah, that's going a little slow at the moment, but my friend is making some headway at finding an unprotected port to go through to get me in. You told me a few weeks ago that all his financial accounts are available to him online. That's what I'm after. When I can get in, I'm not going to wipe Skip out. I'll leave him with enough assets to get back on his feet. I just want enough for you and I to have when we leave town so that we won't have to worry about money for a few years." "What are you going to do about Shirley, Greg? Is she going to go with us?" "No, I don't think so, not unless you want her to." "I don't really care one way or the other. She's my best friend, but I'm not sure she'd go along with this thing." "Well, we've got some time to think about it. I don't think it will be too much longer, though. Hey, I'd better get going. Your wimp husband might be getting back soon." Skip shut the recorder off after downloading the tape to his computer. It also included footage from the carport camera showing Greg in clear detail as he arrived that day. He made a DVD of the tape's entire contents. Then he used his cell phone to call his lawyer. He was going to pile shit all over this son of a bitch Greg. And maybe Sandy, too, that bitch. He slept in the recliner in his office. Super Wimp Chapter 5 End Game Sandy left in a snit right after breakfast. She emphatically told Skip that she was pissed that he had slept in his office all night instead of coming to bed with her. He really didn't care where she was going. He was going somewhere, too. He planned to talk to his lawyer and get a recommendation for the best divorce lawyer in the city. He also wanted advice about what to do about Greg's interest in hacking his computer. Not that he could. Skip was using the latest state of the art firewall on his system and he didn't think there was a hacker around that could get past it. He got to the lawyer's office just in time for his appointment. He'd been a client of Richard Longstreet for quite a while. Skip started his network consulting business right out of high school. But he continued his computer training at night while he ran his emerging business during the day. They'd known each other for twelve years. Richard's secretary ushered him into the lawyer's office with a promise to bring coffee right away. "Hello, Skip, have a seat," the large man said with a gruff sound that was characteristic of him. It was the voice that his legal opponents dreaded to hear, because Richard was the best corporate lawyer in the state. "Thanks, Dick. And thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Skip replied. "So, did you bring the DVD you mentioned when you called last night?" "Yeah, I have it in my briefcase. Have you thought about who you'd recommend for the divorce?" "Actually, yes. I have several candidates for you to consider. Skip anxiously inquired, "So who do you recommend?" "Can we wait a while for that? I'd like to see what you have on this Greg you mentioned. That needs to be addressed rather quickly, I would think." While Skip was fishing it out of his briefcase, Richard's secretary brought in coffee for both of them. She had even remembered that Skip took his black. Skip handed the disc to Dick and, after his secretary left, placed it in the player. The two men began viewing the disturbing footage. As the scenes ran, Dick took some notes. When the screen went black, Dick removed it from the player. "We need to make a few copies of this, Skip. This needs to go to Sal, so he can prosecute the son of a bitch. Do you mind? I'll get Madge to make some for us." "No problem. Who's Sal?" "Sal Spencer, the District Attorney. I need to call him and see if he can see us today. We really need to get the ball rolling on an indictment. Sal and I go way back; buddies school, same Frat, and all that. Let me give him a call. Can you ask Madge to come in?" "Sure." Skip stepped out of the office to find her. It wasn't hard. She was just outside the door. When he returned, Dick was on the phone. Seeing his secretary, he handed her the DVD and instructed "Three copies, please". When Dick heard the phone being picked up he shifted his attention. "Oh, hello Sal, this is Dick. You] know, the best lawyer in the world?" That last comment started a round of friendly insults and barbs between the two friends. Finally Dick got to the reason for the call and, after a short explanation, an appointment for early afternoon was set. After hanging up Dick turned to Skip. "He can see us at half past one this afternoon. I'll have Madge print you out a copy of the names and numbers for the divorce lawyers I mentioned. Would you care to join me for lunch after we finish up here? If you twist my arm I'll even buy." "Sounds good to me. I missed breakfast this morning and I'm really hungry." "Good. I'll leave a note for Madge to pull the files on the divorce lawyers and we can swing by here on the way to Sal's office after lunch." They took a quiet corner booth at Dave's Seafood Emporium, the best place in town for seafood. The conversation during lunch wandered all over the place, but included what Dick thought Sal would do with the indictment. After lunch they stopped by Dick's office and picked up the DVD copies and the information sheets about the two divorce lawyers. Sal welcomed his friend and guest into his office, offering drinks. "Nothing for me, thanks, Sal," growled Dick. "I'm still working and can't cloud my mind with alcohol." Likewise Skip said simply "No thanks." Sal waved them over to two leather seats and started things off. "I know this isn't a social call, so how can I help you gentlemen? Something about data theft, I believe?" "Indeed it is, Sal. My client is in business as a computer consultant, and he has reason to believe that a man is attempting to invade his system to gain financial information so he can siphon funds from Skip here for his own gain." "What kind of evidence do you have?" "Skip was attempting to gain evidence of his wife cheating, and in so doing discovered this plot. He has the evidence on a DVD made from a video he captured within his own home." Dick handed Sal a DVD copy. "It contains some rather explicit sex, so you need to anticipate that when you view it." "No time like the present. Let's take a look at it." He spun his chair around and inserted the DVD in the player on the credenza behind him. He started the player and leaned back in his chair to watch. As the first scene began, the one with just Sandy dressing erotically in lingerie, he asked, "Who is this woman?" "That's my wife Sandy," Skip offered. Although the footage was dark and a bit grainy, Sal was pretty sure who the woman appeared to be. He'd had a brief sexual tryst with her after meeting at a social function he couldn't quite recollect. As if to seek confirmation of his suspicion, he secretively flashed Dick a quizzical glance with one eyebrow raised. Super Wimp Ch. 04-05 With such a long history the two men didn't need to speak in order to effectively communicate. Dick nodded affirmatively with a single nod, and then pointed to himself as well. The message was quite clear. Sal slightly gestured in Skip's direction and motioned toward the finger where a woman traditionally wears a wedding ring. This time Dick responded with a negative gesture, pointed to himself, and repeated the same motion. The men shared a brief look of relief as Sal figuratively wiped the sweat off his forehead. . The next scene came up. Sal watched for a moment, then sat upright. Sal leaned forward as if he recognized the man. "I know who that guy is." He was watching Sandy undress Greg. The stranger's identity slowly dawned on him. "That's Wallace Kilpatrick." "Skip just knows him as Greg. Who is he?" Dick questioned. "Wallace Kilpatrick is his real name. He has used a number of aliases over the years. He's wanted in at least three states, including this one, for extortion, theft, and many other charges. He's a notorious con artist and makes his living running scams, mostly." "Can you have him arrested?" Skip asked, almost in a whisper. "You're damn right I can! Do you know where he lives?" "No, sorry. Sandy probably knows, but I don't think she will tell. But I can describe his car," Skip replied. "And if push comes to shove, you can stake out my home. I'm sure he'll be back there at some time or another." "Okay, give me a description of the car. Do you happen to have the license number?" "No, no license information. But the car is a 2006 Mercedes Benz CLS 4 door sedan. Grey color. I have a video of it I captured with a mini-cam mounted over the carport at home. It has third party running lights, too; the kind that look blue when they're on." "I'll need a copy of that video. Can] you get it to me by tomorrow?" "Sure. I'll drop it by in the morning," Skip readily agreed. "Fine. I'll get an APB out on him in a few minutes. We'll get him off the streets very soon, I think. If we go to trial with this guy, are you willing to testify, or will I need to subpoena you?" "I'll testify, alright. What are you charging him with?" "We can't indict him on your evidence, because no crime has yet been committed. But we have a list of charges as long as your arm for other crimes he has been involved in." "Oh, I just thought of something else. I think a friend of Sandy's thinks she's his girlfriend. She might know where he lives, and if she sees this video, I'm sure she'll be pissed off enough to cooperate." Skip was pleased that he remembered. "Good. That might help. Leave her address and phone number with my secretary. Is there anything else?" When Sal asked he looked at both men, ensuring that no remaining questions were left unanswered. "I think that's it Sal," Dick replied. "Okay, I'll get an ABP out right away." He turned his full attention to Dick and smiled warmly. "See you this weekend?" "You bet. I'll be at the club Saturday afternoon for our usual friendly poker game." Dick laughed. "Yeah, I thought you would," Sal confirmed, shaking hands first with his friend and then Skip. "Nice to meet you, Skip, and thanks for coming in. I'll let you know when we have Kilpatrick in custody." Dick dropped Skip in the parking lot and asked him to keep in touch. Skip said he would and slid into his car, then sat there for a few minutes trying to decide which divorce lawyer to try first. In the end he guessed that it really doesn't matter. Dick wouldn't steer him to a lawyer who wouldn't do a good job. So he called the first one, who happened to be a woman. "Law offices of Smith, Sawyer, and Winkle. How may I direct you call?" "I'd like to make an appointment as soon as possible with Rachel Sawyer, please." "Just a moment, sir." There was a short wait before the receptionist came back on the line. "Ms Sawyer is in, and can see you this afternoon if you'd like. Your name, please?" "Michael Roberts. But I go by Skip." "No problem, Mr. Roberts. Can you be here by 4 o'clock?" "I'll be there. And thank you." "So, Mr. Roberts, what can Smith, Sawyer, and Winkle do for you?" Rachel asked as she directed Skip to a seat in her office. "I want to talk to you about filing divorce proceedings against my wife. And please, call me Skip. Mister seems so formal." "Alright, Skip. I'm Rachel, then. So what's the basis for this divorce?" "Well... uh, my wife cheats on me, and I can't live with it any more." "Have you considered counseling?" "Not really. Everybody told me before I married Sandy that she was a..." Skip's voice tapered off. He was about to call his wife a slut, which in his heart she was, but it didn't seem like the appropriate word to use in front of a professional woman. He briefly struggled to think up a different term to use. "...a cheater, you know, an easy woman I guess you could say. But I thought when she married me she'd be faithful. It didn't happen that way. She's a... what she is. I don't think she'd respond to counseling." "I see. What is Sandy's full name, Skip?" "Sandy Roberts." "I mean her maiden name," Rachel smiled. "Sandra is her real given name, not Sandy. Her last name was Wilson." Rachel knew of Sandy and her reputation, but concealed this from Skip. She had handled previous divorces for wives whose husbands cheated with Sandy. "So, are you looking for a no-fault divorce or do you think Sandy would fight for more than a fifty-fifty split of assets?" "Well, I don't know if she would fight or not. But I don't want a fifty-fifty split myself. I have ample evidence that she's a cheater. Won't that be in my favor?" "A lot depends on the judge if it turns into a fight, Skip. A no-fault is quicker and there is usually only an informal hearing if there's no contest. May I ask why you are opposed to a fifty-fifty split?" "We've] been married for just over four years, and she brought nothing to the union but herself. My net worth as a private businessman is in excess of four million dollars, and I don't want to give away half of that." "I see. So, are you willing to pay alimony? Are there any children?" "No children. What I would be willing to do is give her $500,000.00 cash when the divorce is final and] buy her a modest home. She can keep the Mustang and all her personal possessions acquired during the marriage that I estimate to be worth about $100,000.00. And I'd pay alimony of $4000.00 a month as long as she remains unmarried." "That sounds generous enough. Are you ready to begin proceedings now?" "Yes, ma'am." "Do you intend to live separately until the divorce is final?" "I have a spare bedroom at home, but I think it best if I just rent her a house to live in while the divorce is pending, Rachel." "Really? Okay, I'll start getting the papers ready for filing right away. We should be able to serve them in two days. Will that be satisfactory?" "Yes ma'am. That'll be fine. Is there anything else I need to do?" "Yes. You said you had evidence of her cheating. I'll need that. I'm sure we can locate witnesses to substantiate your claim that she's been an unfaithful wife." Skip was curious. "How can you do that?' "Uh... she has been named as the 'other' woman, so to speak, in a number of divorces we have handled in the past. I'm sure we can get some of those wives, and even some of the ex-husbands, to testify, or at least provide leads to others who have been sexually involved with your wife in the past." Rachel knew damned well she could. She could already name three or four off the top of her head; her brother for one. And he'd know a few more. "I guess she's well known, huh?" Skip remarked as he handed Rachel a copy of the DVD containing the evidence. "You'll find that to be interesting. What's on it, I mean." "I'm sure I will]. I'll call you when we need you to sign the divorce papers." "Thank you, ma'am." After they shook hands he departed for home. Sandy came in after Skip was already home. She was still in a snit; even more of a snit than when she stormed out of the house that morning. "That fuckin' bastard," she spit. "I can't believe he was a fuckin' con man." "Whoa, Sandy. What are you talking about?" he questioned, surprised by the sudden and quite unexpected turn of events]. "Greg, that's who I'm talking about; fucking asshole, He was playing me for a fool. I could shit nickels I'm so pissed." Although Skip could almost guess what happened, he didn't need to. "Greg and I were firkin' in a motel, and the damn police busted in and arrested the shit. Read him his rights and started rattling off charges I couldn't even keep up with. But they told me before they hauled him off that he was a con artist. That's when I knew he was playing' me for a fool. He was..." Skip cut her off. "Don't say any more, Sandy. I know all about Greg. His real name is Wallace Kilpatrick. And I need to tell you that I filed for a divorce today. You'll be served in a few days. Until then, I'll be sleeping in the spare bedroom." "You... you filed for a divorce? A divorce? Please, Skip, don't do that. I... I need you, Skip. I love you.." She was openly crying now. "I know I'm a slut, Skip. I know I deserve it, but what will I do? Please don't throw me out. I can't help myself! I just need more cock than one man can give me. No. No. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO." She threw herself on the sofa and started bawling as hard as she could. Skip began to feel sorry for her. But he had to do what he had to do. He left her there and locked the door to the guestroom. He heard her crying all night long. The next two days were very strained around the household. Sandy went from pleading to yelling obscenities, to openly begging, and back and forth most of the first day. The second day she seemed to accept her fate. She really was a tough girl, and she quit crying. That's when Skip told her to get dressed. They were going out. "Where... where are we going?" Sandy asked. Just then Skip's cell phone rang. When he answered, Sal was on the other end. "Skip, I just wanted to let you know that we have Wallace Kilpatrick in custody. He will be indicted, and the trial should begin in about four months." Skip didn't tell Sal he already knew. "That's great news, Sal. Keep me posted, will you?' "I'll do that. Bye." Skip didn't tell Sandy what the call was about. "We're going to look for a house for you to live in. Let's go." He firmly grasped Sandy's arm and pulled her outside to his car. As they drove to a realtor's office, Skip told Sandy what he proposed to offer her in the divorce. She listened intently as the man she really loved spoke. "You, uh, you really do love me, don't you, Skip?" "Yes, I do, Sandy. But I can't stay married to you, and I can't live with you. I know now that we should never have married. But I don't want you to have to live on the street, or use your only skill to earn a living. And I don't want to see you shacking up with some filthy stud." "But... but, does this divorce mean I won't ever see you again, Skip? I love you so much. I don't want that." "No, Sandy, it doesn't mean that. We can still be friends, if you like." Sandy pondered Skip's words for a minute. "But I don't deserve all the things you said you were going to do. After all the things I've done. I just don't. Why are you..." Skip interrupted, "It's called grace, Sandy. It's called grace." "Grace is a girl's name. What..." "Yes, it's a girl's name, alright. But it's a noun, too. It means undeserved favor. You may not deserve what I want for you, but it's what I want, and that's why I'm doing it." They were pulling into the realtor's parking lot as he finished what he was saying. Sandy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, you stupid man. I love you with all my heart." He experienced a range of emotions. Anger at how badly he'd been treated, embarrassment knowing that many of the men in town thought he was a fool for holding on to an obviously unfaithful wife, frustration at his seeming inability to prevent her from acting in such a promiscuous manner... Yet the most predominant of these feelings was love. Skip wasn't the fool he pretended to be. He heard the snickers behind his back. Hell, he even noticed the silent exchange that Sal and Dick shared at his expense. But how could he possibly blame them for the sins of his wife? Yet none of them had ever walked a mile in his shoes, just as they'd never walked a mile in the shoes of his dear father. He thought back to the talk he'd had with his endearing dad so many years ago. It was a serious talk that occurred just after the unexpected and tragic death of his mother. He was young and didn't fully comprehend all that was said. But the overall intent made an unforgettable impression. "Son, we haven't been placed on this earth to judge. That is a task we're not capable of, although all are quick to try. I made a mistake when I judged your mother. I'm sorry, son...she's gone." Skip distinctly remembered his dad wiping the growing wetness from the corners of his eyes knowing he'd had a hand in the suicide of his unfaithful mate. "Please forgive me. Learn by this and hold on to those you love, no matter their faults. And never, ever allow yourself to be controlled by the whims of others. If you don't remember anything else, remember this... Be true to your heart." Reinforced by the words Skip clung to as he dealt with the loss of his mother, he tightly held the one person he'd always loved. He declared, "I'm not as stupid as you think." ________________________________________________________________________ "Oh, I love this one," exclaimed Sandy as she wandered through the fifth house the realtor was showing them. "Look, Skip. A big walk-in closet like at our, I mean, at your house. And the tub and shower are out of this world." She was jumping up and down like a schoolgirl. Skip took the realtor aside and told him they would make an offer on this one. They didn't need to look at any others. The house hunters went back to Skip's house and on the way, the conversation turned again to why Skip would do this for Sandy. :"I know you told me you wanted to do this for me, but I really don't understand about this grace stuff you mentioned. Can you tell me again, so I can learn about it?" "Well, I'll try. I guess it relates to good will, or benevolence. That's the desire to do something for someone even though they don't deserve it." It..." "Wait. Wait. Why would anybody want to do that?" "Mostly because we could not survive without it. God gives it to us, and we should do it too. Nobody can be good enough in God's view to be worthwhile. We are all sinners. So we don't deserve much of anything." "Everybody's a sinner? How about priests and people like that?" "They are just as susceptible to sinning as anyone else." "I don't know about that, but I guess I'm the biggest sinner in the world. So..." "My dad once told me that we were not placed on this earth to judge. I believe that, and that's why I will not judge you. I believe that sin is sin. And any sin at all is bad enough to preclude us from being acceptable to God. But He loves us, and as bad as we are, he gives us grace – undeserved favor, as well as mercy and love. And if He does it, so should we." "Uh, Skip? I, umm, haven't been around on Sundays much. Do you ever go to church?" "Not for a long, long time." "Oh. I think I want to go, so I can learn more about this grace thing you've been telling me about. Would you take me?" "Yes, I'll take you if that's what you want. But we are still getting divorced. I just can't live with myself any longer the way things have been." "Oh, I know that. As long as we can be friends, 'cause I really, really do love you. I just need..." "I know. It's just that I won't have to see so much of it if we're living apart." "I'm sorry. I know you don't believe it, but I am. Honest injun. Maybe if I go to church for a while I'll learn to be a better person." * The end. Epilog Skip did take her to church a few times, and Sandy loves the house Skip arranged for her. She didn't contest the divorce. She took a course in a local school and learned to be a cosmetician. Skip set her up in her own business, and she does well with it. She still fucks around, but at Skip's insistence she has STD check-ups regularly, and they remain friends. They even fuck on occasion. Skip has started dating, and that is ongoing. Who knows what the future will bring? Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it.