99 comments/ 177629 views/ 15 favorites The Moral of the Story By: ohio So what WAS the moral of the story? He suggested several possibilities: --Don't be a heavy drinker. --Heredity outweighs everything else. --You can't trust anyone, even members of your family. --Stamina is very important. I don't know which of these is right, or whether any of them is the best. I came up with another one on my own. Let me tell you the story, and you can be the judge. **************** The business I'm in demands a lot of travel--a LOT of travel. I'm on the road at least a couple of weeks every month, and I spend more time in airports or hotels than at home in my own bed. Fortunately I'm not a family man. Married twice, divorced twice. The first marriage ended when I came home at 11 am with a stomach flu and found Evelyn sucking some guy's dick in our living room. The second one was my fault. I just wasn't able to be a trusting guy after what Evelyn did, and I never fully committed myself to Joanne. It was my cheating that ended that marriage. No kids either time. So life is lonely, but at least when I'm traveling I meet new people. I've had an awful lot of casual conversations in airport bars, and this was one of the most memorable. It began in typical fashion. A guy slid onto the bar stool next to me and ordered a beer, we nodded to one another, exchanged a few ironic remarks about the weather and the joys of traveling. Both of us had a couple of hours to kill, and the conversation meandered along in a mildly interesting fashion. We talked about business traveling for awhile--good airlines and bad ones, nice cities and awful ones--and then about baseball. He was an Astros fan, but didn't have much to brag about. I told him I'd seen Jeff Bagwell play back when he was still in the minors, in the Red Sox system. We talked for a bit about how many airports we'd been in, how many stories we'd exchanged with strangers over the years. Idle conversation, and it seemed as though it might peter out. But I was in no hurry--there were still two more hours before my flight. "Can I ask you something?" he said. "Sure," I replied. "A guy told me a story not long ago, and he asked me what the moral was. I've been thinking about it ever since and I still can't make up my mind. You feel like hearing it?" "Why not?" I said. "It's about a woman named Maria," he said. ************************ ************************ The Story Maria's life as a young woman was shaped by one central, painful fact: her mother was a slut. Maria's mother Rosie was a beautiful and delightful woman, cheerful and full of life, kind and generous, a woman who had many friends. But she loved sex—a lot of sex—and when she found her husband wasn't able to give her as much as she wanted, she showed little hesitancy in finding other lovers who would supply what was lacking at home. Maria's father caught his wife cheating three times; after the first two, remarkably enough, she talked him out of divorcing her. But the third time, after he walked into the bedroom and discovered her banging a 19-year-old pizza delivery boy, he threw her out of the house. Maria was only seven; and from then on she and her two older brothers were shuttled back and forth between her divorced parents, one in Miami and one in Tampa, feeling perpetually insecure and unwanted. Maria loved her mother, but she absolutely hated what Rosie had done, destroying what had been a happy family; and she resolved that she would never let anything like that happen to her. Despite all the usual temptations, and the begging and pleading of her boyfriends, Maria pledged to save her virginity for her husband, and she did. At 22, fresh out of the University of Miami, Maria went to work as a paralegal for a small law firm in Key West. Four months later she was asked out to dinner by a young accountant in town, one Alexander Malcolm Winters, 28, who was bright and well-spoken and on his way to being a partner in the company he worked for. They dated for over a year, and though Maria grew to love Alex very much she resisted his attempts on her virginity as she had resisted all those of his predecessors. Their first night of love-making, in a scene more reminiscent of an old-fashioned novel than of modern-day life, took place on their honeymoon. It proved to be a happy marriage. Alex was hard-working and ambitious, and did very well at his firm. He was also totally devoted to Maria, considering himself lucky to have landed such a beautiful and loving wife. When he wasn't working long hours he was catering to Maria: bringing her coffee in the morning, cooking breakfast on the weekends while she slept late, picking up the dry-cleaning and doing other errands whenever he could manage. In similar fashion Maria loved and appreciated Alex. Her father had not been a man who did much around the house, even in the happy days before the divorce, and she was grateful for Alex's efforts. Her husband seemed primed to provide them both with a good life, one of security and comfort, and she did all she could to support him. They had decided to wait before having children, so Maria was on the pill and their sex life could be completely spontaneous. She found that she loved sex--in fact, it frightened her a little how much she loved it. The loss of her virginity had been more thrilling than painful, and Maria enjoyed every one of the new things her husband--who had had several previous girlfriends--taught her in bed. Whether it was missionary position, doggie-style, cowgirl, or something more exotic, Maria found it very exciting. She went absolutely crazy when Alex went down on her, and was more than happy to provide blowjobs in return. Anal sex was not quite so wonderful, but she was willing enough to indulge Alex on occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Winters had sex frequently, whether at his instigation or hers, and thoroughly enjoyed it. But there was one fly in the ointment, one problem that kept things from being perfect: Alex's stamina. Or, rather, Alex's lack of stamina. When he and Maria were screwing he found himself unable to last long enough to bring her to orgasm. Sometimes it would be two minutes, sometimes six--but never long enough for the steady rhythm to build her arousal to the point where she could come. Somewhere during her climb towards orgasm Alex would be unable to hold back, and his ejaculation would bring their love-making to an unwelcome end. Alex felt terrible that he was disappointing his wife, though Maria lovingly reassured him that it didn't matter—that she loved their sex life together. They worked on the problem, reading sex manuals and even consulting a couples therapist, but they never solved it. Alex found that he could restrain his orgasm far longer with practice, even beyond ten minutes--but only if Maria lay still. If she responded to his thrusts, moving her hips around or pushing back at him, he invariably got too excited, lost control and came within a few seconds. The irony of the situation bothered both of them: it was just when Maria became most excited, and unable to be passive as she approached her orgasm, that his response resulted in his being unable to give her one. Despite this difficulty, it should not be assumed that Alex and Maria were alienated from one another. They loved one another deeply, and were comfortable enough together to talk freely about the problem and how to address it. Usually, Alex licked Maria to at least one orgasm before they had intercourse--she never felt cheated, as she frequently told her husband. Or as an alternative Alex caressed her breasts and pussy after he had come, persisting lovingly for as long as it took Maria to climax. So no one could say their sex life was bad--indeed, Maria would never have said such a thing. If she longed from time to time for a powerful, steady fuck session in which she could reach orgasm, it certainly wasn't anything she ever dwelled on. In fact, when she and her best friend Susan gossiped idly about their lives--including their sex lives--Maria made hers sound terrific. It may be that she actually felt safer, not being completely fulfilled. She could reassure herself that she wasn't like her mother, so driven by the need for more and better sex that she wrecked her own life and the lives of her family. Be that as it may, something came along to upset her safe, happy existence. The something was Alex's younger brother, Kenny. When Maria married Alex she hadn't yet met Kenny, who was 23 and unemployed, bumming around the West Coast staying with some of his high school friends. But a couple of years later he moved to Key West and wound up with a job on a small sport-fishing boat that catered to rich tourists. For the first three weeks he was in town, until he found an apartment, Kenny stayed with Alex and Maria. Alex loved his kid brother, treated him protectively and affectionately, and seemed blind to his faults. But Maria noticed them all: Kenny was immature, self-centered, and a bit rude. He acted totally unaware of the fact that his presence might disrupt his brother's household, or make Maria uncomfortable. Kenny walked around in his boxers, he drank a lot of beer, he stayed up late at night with the TV on too loud, and he didn't lift a finger to wash the dishes or pick up after himself or do anything that a thoughtful houseguest might have done. After a couple of weeks of this Maria complained to Alex, who in turn asked Kenny to at least stop leaving his dirty laundry all over the floor. But it didn't get much better, and Maria was secretly delighted when Kenny moved out. What she didn't acknowledge, even to herself, was that Kenny annoyed her partly because she found him sexy. She didn't like him, didn't enjoy his company, and resented the loss of privacy--but she often gazed at his body with a great deal of interest. He was about the same size as Alex, but while her husband the accountant was growing a bit soft from his long hours at a desk, Kenny had the tan and the hard muscles that came with a life outdoors on a fishing boat. Alex continued to invite his brother for dinner on a regular basis, so Maria was unable to avoid him completely. Occasionally the two men sat up late together, matching one another beer for beer and laughing about stories or people they remembered from their childhood. On his own Alex was never that much of a drinker; but when he and his brother got going, they often drank well into the night, with one or both of them passing out rather than ever making it to bed. On one of these nights Maria had several beers herself, before going off to bed around 11 pm, far more tipsy than she usually let herself get. A bit too inebriated to bother with washing up or brushing her teeth, Maria tossed her clothes onto a chair near the bed, pulled on her nightie, and almost instantly fell asleep. Sometime later she was aware of Alex sliding into bed behind her, spooning into her and pulling her tightly back against him. She murmured, only partially awake, as she felt him slide her nightie above her waist and slip his erect cock between her thighs. "Honey," she complained, still mostly asleep, "I'm sleepy..." But her husband didn't reply; instead he kissed her on the back of her neck, and reached his hands around to cup her breasts gently. Despite her drowsiness it felt good. In a few moments he had moved his cock up higher and was sliding it back and forth, rubbing it against her pussy lips. Maria gave in to the feelings, smiling to herself as his hands and his cock began to arouse her. In a few minutes her excitement had grown, as Alex stroked her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples. She felt the wetness between her legs, and held her breath as Alex angled his cock up towards her pussy and then smoothly slid into her. It felt fantastic! Maria lay back dreamily against her husband, her eyes closed, still on her side as he fucked her steadily from behind. It was delicious. She knew that he would come inside her long before she could reach her own orgasm, so she just relaxed and enjoyed the feelings. But after several minutes her arousal increased, and an orgasm started to seem possible. Maria fought to remain still, knowing that as soon as she began to push back against Alex, giving in to her excitement, he would come. But finally she was just too turned-on to care. "Damn it," she thought, "I'm going to do what my body needs to do, and to hell with what happens next." She began to arch her back, pushing her ass against him at every stroke, intensifying the force of his cock in her pussy and his groin banging against her, and her excitement soared. With every thrust she came closer to a fabulous orgasm, and she braced herself for her husband's inevitable premature climax. But it didn't happen, and in no time she was frantically banging back at him, wild with the need to come, forgetting that this had never worked before. Her orgasm exploded inside her and she cried out, pulling a pillow up to her face for fear that she would wake Kenny if he was still in the house. Her body shook as the pleasure surged through her. He'd done it! Alex had made her come! And it was fantastic. When it was over she gradually relaxed, feeling as happy and satisfied as she had ever been. She assumed that Alex must have come with her, and she waited for him to collapse against her so that she could turn over to kiss him and thank him, to share the joy of their achievement. Instead, to her astonishment, she realized that he was still rock-hard inside her, still stroking steadily in and out, his hands still on her breasts. In another minute he gently pushed her over onto her stomach and she lay flat beneath him as he continued to thrust into her, now from above. This was amazing--Alex had never lasted so long. Already satisfied from her terrific climax, Maria lay quietly and let him fuck her, marveling at his stamina and at how great it felt. She soon grew more excited again, and her excitement intensified when Alex pulled on her hips, bringing her up onto her knees, her shoulders and face pressed down into the mattress. In this position he drove into her more and more forcefully. Maria moaned and squirmed, holding tight to the bedsheets with both hands. Soon she was approaching a second orgasm, and she again muffled her cries with a pillow as the pleasure overwhelmed her. And Alex went on and on, fucking her forcefully, masterfully. By the time he accelerated into his climax Maria had come a third time, and was beside herself with pleasure. He pulled hard on her hips, yanking her back against him, and groaned as he finally shot his cum up into her. Maria fell forward, collapsing onto the bed, and Alex lay spent on top of her, both of them gasping. She had never been so gloriously satisfied in her entire life. After a couple of minutes spent luxuriating in her feelings of pleasure, Maria turned over to kiss her husband. To her unspeakable shock and horror, she found herself looking not at Alex but at Kenny, who grinned unrepentantly back at her. Before she could scream at him he covered her mouth with his, whispering "quiet! Alex is passed out downstairs--you want to wake him up?" She yanked his hand violently away from her mouth and began to abuse him, though being careful to keep her voice down to a whisper as well. "You son-of-a-bitch! You BASTARD--what the hell are you doing in bed with me? You know that was rape, don't you--Alex is going to fucking KILL you!" "Easy now, Maria," he answered, not looking particularly worried. "Are you sure you want your loving husband to know all about how we spent the last hour? You ready to tell him how much you enjoyed being fucked by me?" "You raped me, you bastard! I didn't know it was you, I thought it was Alex!" "I know you did--I even stopped in the bathroom to put on some of his cologne. But do you really think Alex will believe you? Better just to keep it between you and me, Maria." As he said this Kenny calmly rose from the bed and began to gather his clothes. Still furious, Maria said nothing, her mind whirling. She hated to admit it to herself, but Kenny was right--telling Alex what his brother had done would be a risky proposition. At best, her husband would believe her, and that would mean the permanent end of all contact between the brothers, if not actual violence. But what if he didn't believe her? What if Kenny persuaded Alex that she'd loved it, that she'd been an active participant, that she'd known all along it was Kenny in bed with her? She doubted Alex would fully believe that, but would he have doubts about her that would linger? Did she dare take that risk? Without another word, her face tight with anger and frustration, Maria watched as Kenny left the room, giving her a happy wink, and headed to the guest bedroom, where he often stayed when he and Alex spent the evening drinking. To have felt so damn good, then to be so shocked and angry, to feel so helpless, was a lot for Maria to take in one evening. In a silent fury she stripped the soaked sheets off the bed and stuffed them in the hamper, re-made the bed, then went downstairs in her nightgown to check on Alex. He was passed out in his easy chair, snoring contentedly. Maria went back up to bed, where she spent nearly an hour angrily cursing Kenny in her head before falling asleep. **************** After that Maria and Kenny were in an uneasy stand-off, at least for her. She'd never been so angry, never felt so violated in her life. She would happily have tied him to a tree and slowly cut his balls off with a rusty knife. But the more she thought about it, the less there was any way she could tell her husband what Kenny had done and still stay married—there was just too much risk that Kenny's version would make Alex so furious that he'd walk out on her, or never trust her again. And with every passing day it became more and more impossible to talk to Alex about it. After a week or so she realized miserably that she was going to have to live with her secret. All she could really do was try to avoid Kenny. She started going out of the house whenever he was coming over--she'd go shopping or visit a friend. When Alex asked why she didn't hang around to keep him and Kenny company, she said, "because the two of you drink too much, and then Kenny gets crude and I don't like being around him." She didn't dare go further than that. Alex tried a couple of times to heal the "rift" between his brother and his wife. Once he took the three of them out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate a promotion and raise he'd received. The food was great but the evening wasn't a success. Kenny was relaxed and funny, and flirted in a charming way with his sister, but Maria was clearly tense and unhappy. She spoke only when asked a direct question, seemed actually to flinch when Kenny gave her a compliment, and never felt comfortable enough to enjoy the evening. After that Alex pretty much let it go. He continued to hang out with Kenny, but more and more they'd go to Kenny's apartment or spend the evening in a bar. When they met at Alex's house, Maria continued to find reasons not to be there. In the meantime, though, Maria couldn't stop thinking about Kenny--and how amazing the sex had been. The very next night she ravished her husband, being more aggressive and demanding than ever before, and he responded with enthusiasm. They did it half the night, and Alex made Maria come at least four times with his mouth. It was sweaty and satisfying, for both of them. But it didn't make Maria forget about how Kenny had fucked her. The next week she came home from a sex shop with a vibrating dildo, one she'd carefully chosen because it was the same size as Alex's cock (and Kenny's, though she tried not to admit she was thinking about that). It quickly became a big part of their sex play: frequently instead of eating her until she came, Alex would fuck her with the vibrator, sometimes while licking her clit or sucking one of her breasts at the same time. Maria found that she loved the orgasms she got this way--coming with her pussy filled was wonderfully satisfying. The Moral of the Story But though she wouldn't acknowledge it to herself, even this improvement in their sex life left her aching to be fucked long and steadily, the way Alex couldn't do but Kenny had. She wanted to come and come while a cock stroked in and out of her--she wanted to be able to hump and jerk her hips and flail around in wild excitement, and know that the sex wouldn't end too soon for her. It would be a big exaggeration to say that this frustration bothered her constantly--it didn't. Both her love for Alex and her pleasure in their active sex life were a source of joy and contentment for her. But she never completely forgot the way Kenny had turned her inside-out; and she never stopped wishing her husband could do the same thing. What happened next can be blamed on Fate, if you like, or perhaps on God's inscrutable sense of humor. After several years of working on someone else's boat Kenny had saved enough money for a down payment on his own: he started "Kenny's Fishing Cruises", taking groups of 2-3 tourists out for a day of sunshine, a good catered lunch (with plenty of beer), and some relaxed fishing. In the third week of this new venture, when Kenny was still struggling to get his name around and attract enough business to start paying off the heavy loan he'd taken out on his boat, his apartment building burned down. A water heater overheated in the basement, some cardboard boxes caught on fire and the entire building went up, putting Kenny and nine other renters on the street. The landlord's insurance covered Kenny's possessions, but he was suddenly without a place to live. Naturally enough, Alex invited him to move in temporarily with himself and Maria. "You can save on rent for a couple of months, take your time looking for a new place, and in the meantime the money you're saving can go towards the boat loan--it'll be perfect!" Kenny was grateful, and he said so, repeatedly. Maria was horrified, but she knew this was not a matter where she could refuse her husband. So once again she had Kenny in her life and in her house--the loud TV, the crude remarks, the dirty dishes and dirty clothes all over the house. But now it was many times worse, because of what had happened between them two years earlier. She just didn't like having Kenny around, and she hated having to face the fact that she was still attracted to him. At first Kenny went out of his way to be polite to Maria. He was still a slob, but he didn't taunt her or pursue her. He didn't want to do anything that might lead to his brother throwing him out. But after a few weeks, he started to enjoy walking around the house only partly dressed, whenever Maria was home and Alex was at work. That happened often in the mornings, because Alex left by 7:30 and Maria didn't need to drive to work until nearly 8:45. Sometimes he'd come out of the guest room and into the kitchen wearing only a pair of boxers, and she couldn't help seeing his cock swinging around inside them. At other times she was aware of his chest and arms, muscular and tan from a life of outdoor physical work. Maria was horny more and more often, and on many evenings her husband innocently reaped the benefit of her suffering. It all came to a head when Alex had a four-day business trip to San Francisco—it was his turn to be the firm's representative at a professional meeting. Maria wanted to go with him, being desperate not to be left alone in the house with Kenny. But Alex reminded her that they were saving for a trip to Greece the following winter, and he was adamant about not spending more than $1500 for her to join him for such a short time. On the Sunday evening of Alex's departure, Maria came back from driving him to the airport to find Kenny sitting on the sofa, wearing only a pair of boxers, smiling at her with sex in his eyes. She took one look at him, blushed, and snapped at him furiously. "Listen, Kenny—just because Alex is gone doesn't mean you and I are going to do anything! It happened once—once!—and it was without me knowing it was you. Now just stay the hell out of my way. Got it?" But Kenny just gave her his lazy smile and said, "sure, Maria—just relax, okay?" And she shivered to herself, knowing she was in as much danger from her own feelings as from Kenny's obvious desire for her. That night she wedged a chair under the handle of her bedroom door, to make sure Kenny couldn't come in while she was asleep. And then she had a lengthy, sweaty session with her vibrator, trying vainly to pretend it was Alex she was imagining on top of her, pumping away energetically, rather than Kenny. Around midnight Kenny did try to get in. He came quietly to the door, pushed gently until he realized it was barricaded, and heard Maria's moans and the buzzing of her vibrator. Smiling to himself, he retreated—but the next day he found the vibrator and replaced its batteries with a couple of dead ones. On the next night Maria's chair was in place but the vibrator was useless. Cursing to herself, she made do with her fingers, wishing more than ever that Alex weren't 3000 miles away. Tuesday morning found Maria sleepily standing in the kitchen, getting herself some coffee and breakfast. She'd taken the morning off from work to run a few errands, and was luxuriating in having the house to herself, since Kenny normally left by 8 am to get his boat ready for the day's cruise. She was all too aware of her nearly constant arousal, of how frequently she thought about Kenny's body. Goddammit, why couldn't Alex come home? She had two more days to get through. Briefly, she thought about making an impromptu trip up to Miami to visit her mother for a couple of days. Then she heard a noise in the hall, and turned around to find Kenny standing in the kitchen, grinning at her, wearing nothing but his boxers. She looked away, but not fast enough to avoid seeing his erection tenting the fabric. With her back to him she said, "it's almost 9—how come you're still here?" "Trip got canceled today; the guy called me yesterday. He and his buddy are both sick." She heard him come closer and said, "Kenny, don't." Ignoring her words he gently pressed against her from behind, his hands on her shoulders. "I'm here, you're here—we've got the whole place to ourselves." Maria felt his warmth, felt his hard cock pressing into her lower back. She trembled. "Get the hell away from me, Kenny—I mean it." But she didn't mean it. His touch thrilled her. She felt her nipples hardening, and had to resist the urge to pull his hands down onto her breasts. "C'mon baby—I want it, and I know you want it." He was kissing the side of her neck, rubbing his body against hers. She tried feebly to pull away but he held her to him. Maria thought to herself, "what's one more fuck? It was fantastic last time—but maybe it won't be so good this time, and I can be done with him once and for all. I'll never have to wonder about it ever again." She knew that her rationalization was a weak one, a mere excuse to let herself have what she wanted. But she also suddenly knew that she wasn't going to be able to stop herself. "All right, Kenny," she said, in a firm voice. She turned and faced him as he stepped back, surprised by her words. "One more time," she said. "We'll do it once more—no pretending to be Alex this time! And then it'll be out of my system, and you will never touch me again—got it?" He grinned, and nodded at her. "Sure, Maria—just once more." Without looking back at him she walked quickly into her bedroom, pulled the blankets off the bed, and lay down on her back. Spreading her legs, she pulled her nightie up past her waist and said, "okay, let's go." He stripped off his boxers and his cock bounced up at her, hard and fat and eager. He lay down beside her and began to caress her, stroking her breasts through her nightie, but she stopped him. "No, c'mon, let's just do it!" Kenny could see that Maria was fighting herself, trying not to enjoy it. He climbed onto her, gently sliding his cock up and down her pubic mound, getting her ready. When he realized her vagina was already wet he entered her and began stroking gently, looking down at her face. Maria avoided his gaze, first by looking away and then by closing her eyes. She was determined to make this a routine, unromantic fuck. As desperately as she wanted it, she also prayed that it would be disappointing, ordinary—so she could tell herself that Kenny had nothing to offer her in bed. Smiling to himself, Kenny played along. He fucked her steadily, enjoying her tight pussy and the smell of her warm body beneath him—in no hurry. He watched Maria's face as her pleasure started to build and she fought her reactions, fought to lie still and passive. After a few minutes he pulled out, surprising her, and slid down to lick her wide-open cunt. "No!" she cried in dismay, trying to pull him back up on top of her, but he remained between her legs, licking and kissing. Kenny's approach to cunnilingus was less gentle than Alex's, more energetic and almost rough, but it excited her despite herself. She began to pant and move around, and Kenny slid his hands up under her nightie to stroke her breasts and nipples. In another couple of minutes she was writhing almost frantically, fast approaching her climax. When she was just seconds away from coming—panting, groaning, twisting her body—Kenny suddenly stopped. She cried out in frustration, but he was already sliding back into her, settling his body on top of hers, thrusting hard and fast and steadily. He pushed her nightie up around her neck and rubbed his chest against her hard nipples. Maria's excitement quickly built again, even higher than before. Knowing she was close, Kenny bent to kiss her, but she pushed his face away from hers. "No!" she cried, "just do it!" They continued to thrust at one another, fast and hard, and Maria felt an amazing climax coming closer and closer. Almost at the moment the feelings became unbearable, Kenny grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth while continuing to plunge his cock inside her. Maria climaxed instantly, sobbing and bucking, digging her nails into Kenny's back. For nearly a minute she was beside herself, totally out of control, lost in the intensity of the feelings as his tongue and his cock ravished her. She was dimly aware of Kenny's repeated groans as he thrust himself hard into her cunt and emptied himself inside her. Then, finally, it was over, and Kenny rolled off her and lay to one side, breathing heavily. Maria began to cry. The intensity of her excitement, and then the kisses she had been determined to avoid, were somehow the final straw. She wasn't Alex's loving wife any more—she was a whore. Kenny's whore. She wept quietly, ignoring all his efforts to comfort her. But after a little while, when he pulled her hand onto his flaccid cock, she compliantly began stroking him, bringing him back to hardness. And when he rolled her to one side, lifted her leg, and entered her from behind, spoon-fashion, she made no motion to resist. Why bother? She knew what she'd done, knew what she was. The second fuck was slower and more gentle at first; but it lasted a long time. Apparently Kenny's stamina the night he'd pretended to be Alex was no fluke. With his cock inside her and his hands on her breasts—one sometimes dipping down to stroke her excited clit—Kenny brought her to two more intense orgasms before finally reaching his own climax. They showered—separately—and then ate a sandwich, though it was only a little after 11 am. And when Kenny took Maria by the hand and led her into the living room for more, she didn't try to resist him. He settled himself on a towel on the couch, stood her in front of him as he licked her pussy for a few minutes, then pulled her onto his lap. His cock was already hard again, and he slid it inside her as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Once again his tongue was in her mouth, and this time she thrust hers back at him. They kissed and fucked, pushing and writhing against one another, and again Kenny's energy and stamina made Maria crazy. She came, and came again, and was exhausted by the time Kenny cried out and spurted into her for the third time that day. At 1:00 Maria left the house to go to work. She abandoned the idea of visiting her mother, and came home at her usual time. Maria and Kenny spent that night and the next in her bed, and her guilt and shame did not prevent her from continuing to have the most exciting sex of her life. Kenny was indefatigable, and she was like a wild woman—she couldn't get enough of him. **************** Once Maria had finally given in, once she realized the hold Kenny--or rather Kenny's sexual abilities--had over her, the next few months were predictable. She and Kenny fucked each other's brains out, at least once a week and sometimes more, even after Kenny moved out again and into his own place. Of course they worked hard to keep their affair hidden from Alex, each for their own reasons. Maria in particular was almost fanatical about it. Naturally they took the obvious precautions, waiting until Alex was out of the house, meeting mostly at Kenny's apartment in case Alex ever came home unexpectedly, and so on. Maria kept her regular brands of soap and shampoo at Kenny's place, and she showered and douched thoroughly before going home to Alex. She even insisted that Kenny use the same cologne as Alex. But it was more than that. In her mind she went over all the details of her sex life with Alex: how often they made love, when and where, what positions and toys and fantasies; and she did everything she could to make sure that things stayed the same. No drop-off in their sex life, but no dramatic increase, either. And it worked: Alex never picked up on what she was up to. He did gradually become aware that sex seemed a little less important to Maria—she wasn't very often as eager and excited as she used to be—but he chalked that up to the inevitable familiarity and feeling of routine that came into a marriage after a few years. And in every other way she was as loving and devoted as ever. They were a happy, loving couple, and Alex continued to feel like a lucky man. So did Kenny, for that matter--but Maria was the best sex he had ever had, and he wanted more. One fine day it occurred to him how he could get it. Kenny had a slow-witted assistant named Sam, a blond guy in his early twenties who did various jobs around the boat: he helped the tourists with their fishing tackle, pointed out landmarks of interest, and served the catered meals that Kenny provided to his customers. Sam quit early in June that year, to go back to Arkansas and help his ailing dad run the family farm, and it occurred to Kenny that Maria would make a dandy replacement. She was much smarter than Sam, not to mention very attractive. The sight of her bouncing around the deck in a tiny bikini, smiling and flirting with the customers, could only help business. And--best of all--there was at least an hour or so in every cruise when the customers were so busy fishing, they didn't need any attention at all from Kenny and his assistant. Kenny figured he and Maria could spend some quality time together below-decks without ever being missed. Kenny being Kenny, he approached Alex about it first. He told him that he really needed the help, and that Maria would make nearly twice what she was making in her boring paralegal job. Plus there was the fresh air, the fun of being outside, and it would be so great for him to have his sister around! Alex had noticed that Maria no longer avoided Kenny so much—that in fact the two seemed to have settled into a relaxed friendship--and it pleased him. He thought about it for a few days, then told Maria about Kenny's offer and urged her to take it. Maria was initially more horrified than pleased. The prospect of more sex with Kenny was outweighed at first by the fear that this new arrangement would somehow ruin the current, highly pleasurable state of things. But Kenny worked on her--mainly in bed, where he outdid himself several times in bringing Maria to a number of groaning, gasping orgasms--and after a couple of weeks of unusually cosmic sex she agreed to take the job. For nearly eight months the new arrangement worked to everyone's satisfaction. Maria liked working outdoors in the sunshine, and she got a kick out of wearing a bikini that drew the stares of the mostly middle-aged, pasty-faced male tourists who were Kenny's chief customers. Their occasional whistles or theatrical sighs of appreciation were a happy part of her day. The work she had to do was easy, and the sex she was getting was out of this world. At least every other day she and Kenny had an hour to play in the cabin downstairs while the customers were happily losing bait to the canny fish off Key West. Maria grew very proficient at stuffing a pillow or a rolled-up teeshirt in her mouth to stifle the loud cries that Kenny drew from her at the moment of orgasm, which came several times in every session. The only problem from Maria's point of view was that it grew harder and harder to be interested in sex with Alex in the evenings. In theory she still loved his gentle, patient brand of love-making, and she certainly loved him. But her libido was getting all it could handle during the day from Kenny, and more and more she found herself faking excitement with Alex, making sure he got what he wanted while she daydreamed about something else. One day Alex's boss asked him to take a new customer to lunch--Roger Vinson, who was moving the four-person office staff of his furniture company to Key West. (The factory stayed behind in North Carolina.) Vinson was a cheerful, talkative fellow, and Alex enjoyed his company. Over lunch Vinson told entertaining stories of all the good times he'd had already, during his few short weeks in Key West. "Last Thursday a buddy and I went fishing on one of those all-day fishing trips, run by a guy named Kenny or something. Man, that was great! We fought a couple of tarpon all afternoon, nearly landed one that had to be 7 feet long!" Alex smiled, imagining that the fish was probably more like 3 feet. He was about to break in to say, "what a coincidence--it sounds like you must have been on my brother's boat," when Vinson continued his tale. "We had a great lunch, and the honey he had on board to serve us was something else! Man, she had on this little red bikini and her tits bounced all over the place. I could see right away why Kenny keeps her around. "And during the afternoon I found out I'd guessed right. I got up to get another beer out of the cooler, over by the stairway, and I heard them going at it downstairs. Man, he was pounding her like crazy! The bunk was squeaking a little, and she was groaning and panting, and I heard him say "shh" to her a couple of times. I sure wouldn't have minded having a piece of that!" Alex made himself sit very still, willed his face to stay calm. He asked, "what did this girl look like? I think maybe I know the boat you mean." "Oh, she was just a little thing, about 5'4" maybe, with a nice set of tits, not too big. She had a lovely face, and jet-black hair down past her shoulders a few inches. And boy, did she have a cute ass, especially with most of it sticking out the sides of that bikini!" That was Maria, all right. The description fit perfectly, except that Alex didn't think he'd ever seen her tiny red bikini. In a slightly strained voice he told Roger, "I guess it's a different boat--that doesn't sound like anyone I know." **************** Alex endured the longest, most painful afternoon of his life. It was quite obvious what was going on--what had presumably been going on for months at least! Pretty much the only thing he wondered about was whether Kenny had already been screwing Maria when he offered her the job. The Moral of the Story There was no doubt in his mind how this would end, but Alex was far too methodical a person to take action without being completely sure. He called Dan Silverman, an old college friend who lived in Wisconsin, and invited him down to Key West to help with a project. "Here's the situation, Dan," Alex told him. "I've been asked to look into the dealings on this fishing-tour boat run by a guy named Kenny Winters—no relation. He takes tourists out on daytrips, feeds 'em lunch, lets 'em try to land some of the big game fish. "Anyway, there are rumors that something not quite right is going on. How would you like a short all-expenses paid trip to Key West, and a chance to do some fishing? Dan was more than willing, and they planned the trip for the following week. Dan and Noah, a buddy from back home in Wisconsin, would stay at a hotel for a couple of nights, book two days on Kenny's boat, and report afterwards to Alex on anything they'd noticed. Supposedly Alex's firm would cover all their expenses, but actually Alex planned to pay the bills himself. Alex purposely refrained from saying a word to Dan about Maria--somehow hoping against hope that Roger Vinson was wrong, and that his wife was not the cheating slut she now appeared to be. But his hope vanished within minutes after joining Dan and his friend at the hotel for dinner, the evening after their second day on the boat. "We had a great time, Alex, thanks to your firm," Dan said enthusiastically, grinning and showing off a bright-red sunburn. Noah nodded with equal happiness. "But I can't say I picked up on any hanky-panky--not really, I mean. No sign of drugs, or running contraband or anything--no contact with other boats, no side-errands or suspicious packages. "This guy Kenny is banging the shit out of his assistant, but I doubt that's the sort of thing your firm is interested in!" Alex felt cold. Taking a slow, deep breath he said, "no, but tell me about it anyway. He's got a girl on the boat with him?" "Yeah, a little black-haired thing with a fantastic figure, and her bathing suit shows off a lot of it. They went down into the cabin both days after lunch, while we were fishing, and you could hear 'em going at it when the wind died down." "Is that right?" said Alex, feigning amusement. "You sure they weren't just watching a porn movie or something?" "No," said Dan. "Yesterday I just had to take a leak something awful. I coulda gone off the back of the boat but I was sort of curious, y'know? So I went down the stairway kinda quietly. The head had an open porthole, and it reflected off the porthole in the cabin. He had her bent over the bed and was balls-deep in her, hammering away. She was groaning, clutching the sheets with her hands...man, that was a fuck! I saw her jam her face into a pillow when she came, but I could still hear her a little." Dan stopped, smiling, and Noah said, "she was something--I sure wouldn'ta minded a piece of that!" Once more Alex used all his self-control. Calmly he asked, "do you think there's prostitution going on? Did Kenny offer the girl to you or anything like that?" Dan and Noah looked at one another, then shook their heads. Dan said, "no--nothing like that. We might have been tempted, to tell the truth. But she seemed just to be his girlfriend--or his fuck-buddy, anyway." **************** Alex felt just about the way you might expect--about the way any loving husband might feel, learning that his whole marriage, his whole life really, has just blown up in his face. His loving wife a whore, a lying cheating whore; his brother a dishonest, cuckolding son of a bitch. It was thirteen days between the time Alex first heard Roger Vinson's story and the shattering confirmation of that story by Dan Silverman. Alex had used every ounce of his strength to maintain a façade of calm affection towards Maria in the meantime. They'd even made love two or three times, though Alex had been unable to summon his usual enthusiasm. He didn't know whether Maria had noticed--she hadn't said anything. Alex had also used the thirteen days to make some other arrangements. Although he'd hoped against hope, he knew deep inside what the result of Dan's investigation would be—and he was ready to act. Alex was an accountant--he knew a great deal about money, how to move it, and how to hide it. He took out a home-equity loan for the maximum he could get on their house, about $600,000. Then he drained all but a few hundred dollars from his and Maria's accounts, added it to the home-equity money, and moved it several times in and out of numbered accounts in the Cayman Islands, using dummy names he'd created through his accounting firm. He also made a drive up to Fort Lauderdale one day, consulted a local lawyer, and went before a judge to change his name. In theory such name-changes were supposed to be registered in a searchable database, but Alex knew that it frequently wasn't done. He ordered two credit cards in his new name and had the cards sent to the office of his Fort Lauderdale lawyer to be held for him. The day after Alex's dinner with Dan and his friend, he left work at noon and headed home to pack. When Maria came through the door at about 6:30 everything he cared to take with him was sitting in the trunk of his car, and Alex was sitting on a chair in the living room, waiting for her arrival. "Hi, baby!" she said cheerfully. "How was your...Alex, what's wrong?" Maria was brought to a sudden halt by the look of anger and contempt on her husband's face. Alex was looking at her as though she were a piece of dogshit he'd just stepped in. "Sit on the couch, Maria, and don't say a word," he said in a cold voice. "Honey, I don't..." "Shut up! I mean it--don't say a word." "But Alex..." she began again, thoroughly frightened. He silently led her to the couch and, holding her by her elbow, forced her to sit. Then he leaned over and put his face inches from hers. "Just sit here and shut up, Maria. If you get up from this couch or open your mouth again, I will kill you with my bare hands." He didn't raise his voice, but his cold rage terrified her. Alex pulled out his cell and speed-dialed a number. "Hey man, how's it going?" he asked cheerfully. "Did you have a good group today? Big tippers?" He laughed. "Listen, Maria and I are going out to dinner and a movie--I'm buying. C'mon over and join us....No, don't bother to dress up, just c'mon over....okay, see you in a few." Alex hung up his phone, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a few moments later holding a rolling pin. He sat down on a chair across the room from Maria and waited, looking neither at her nor at anything else. She was too frightened to speak. After about ten minutes they heard footsteps on the porch. Alex looked at Maria. "Not a word--not a single word!" he hissed at her, moving to stand behind the door. "Hey guys, I'm..." Kenny began as he came through the door. Then he stopped, looking uncertainly at Maria's horrified face across the room. Alex stepped out from behind the door and smashed Kenny hard across the face with the rolling pin, breaking his nose. Kenny cried out and fell back against the wall, blood spurting from his nose. Maria shrieked. Alex hit him again, this time shattering his left cheekbone, and Kenny collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain. Alex bent over, looking straight into Kenny's terrified face, and hit him a third time, breaking his jaw. Then he stood up, stared down at his brother for a few moments, and carefully, methodically, kicked him as hard as he could three times in the balls, jacknifing Kenny's body several inches into the air with each kick. He heard Maria crying behind him. He stepped back and dropped the rolling pin. There was near-silence in the room, broken only by Maria's sobbing and Kenny's agonized groaning. Without a look back Alex walked out the front door. A few moments later came the sound of a car starting and driving away. ************************ ************************ My seatmate at the bar stopped talking, and took a long drink of his beer, looking straight ahead with no expression on his face. "Did she ever see Alex again?" He nodded slowly, glancing briefly at me. "Just once, after about four months or so. She came home one afternoon and found him sitting on the couch in her apartment. She'd lost the house--couldn't make the payments. "He scared the shit out of her, just sitting there. He said, 'I'm not going to hurt you.' Then he said, 'tell me about it. When it started, and how. And why.' "So Maria told him. She cried and cried, she told him how sorry she was, how ashamed she felt. How much she loved him. And she told him about the first time, what Kenny had done, and then how it had continued. How she'd tried to stay away from Kenny, but to no avail. "When she finished they just sat there--him looking right at her, no expression on his face, and her crying. After about ten minutes he got up and walked out. Not another word spoken, he just left. That was the last time she ever saw him." There was more silence--and then he turned on his seat and faced me directly, for the first time since he had begun his tale. "So, what about the moral of the story? I'd like to know what you think. Here are your choices: --Don't be a heavy drinker. --Heredity outweighs everything else. --You can't trust anyone, even members of your own family. --Stamina is very important." I looked back at him as I thought it over. Finally I said, "I guess that they all work pretty well. But I think I'd like to suggest a different one: "Don't break the 'Pig Rule'." He looked interested. "The Pig Rule? Tell me about it." "This cousin of a friend of mine works in Washington, D.C. He's a lawyer, and he deals all the time with politicians and other lawyers. There's corruption everywhere, he says, but mostly small time. A guy takes his mistress along on a government-paid trip, say, so he can screw her in a luxury hotel in London. Or somebody's wife uses his car with the government license plate so she doesn't have to pay her parking tickets. Or a congressman takes a couple thousand dollars and co-sponsors a bill he doesn't really support. "The point is, it's all stealing, but it's small-time stuff. Everybody knows it goes on, and nobody cares much. But when you act like a pig, when you get greedy, that's when you get into trouble. A guy siphons off $600,000 from his firm's accounts, and he winds up in jail. Or a CEO throws a 4 million dollar birthday party for himself on a Greek island and the press finds out about it, and pretty soon he's an ex-CEO. "So the moral is, if you're going to cheat, go ahead and cheat--but don't be a pig. "Seems to me that fits your story. If Kenny hadn't gotten greedy, if he'd been content with banging Maria from time to time instead of every day, her poor fool of a husband might never have found out, and they all could have lived happily every after." In an even voice he said, "you think her husband was a poor fool?" I laughed. "No insult intended, believe me! I was one myself. My first wife was fucking another guy for nearly five months before I found out about it--I thought she was the most perfect, most loving wife a guy could ever have. "So, yeah, he was a poor fool. But there are lots of us out there." We sat a little while in silence, each of us thinking our own thoughts. Then he slid off the stool and stood, getting ready to take his leave. "Thanks for the story," I said. "Not a happy one, but it kept my attention better than most." "Well, you offered me a new moral for it, so I thank you for that," he replied. He gave me a brief smile, then headed off down the corridor. I sat another few minutes to finish my beer, thinking about his story, and about nothing in particular. When I got up to leave, I saw that he'd left his briefcase on the floor, propped against the bar. I bent to pick it up, figuring I'd leave it with the bartender. Out of pure curiosity I opened it, and there attached to one of the inside flaps was his business card. It read "Malcolm Alexander Summers, Accountant, Williams & Donaldson, Houston, Texas". I shook my head, wondering how I could have missed it the whole time.