13 comments/ 127690 views/ 4 favorites What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 01 By: CraCyn55 This is a fictionalized account of a true story with a real ending that you’ll have to wait until part 2 for. It is much shorter overall than the last ‘series’ of stories that that covered 215 MS Word pages; I hope it’s not too short for those who like character development and short enough for those who don’t like to beat around the bush. Like I said, the story itself is true, although I have taken literary license in fictionalizing the specific details and names. Thanks to Doktor Zhivago for the quick look for minor editing. I was almost frozen with fear and fighting against arousal as my feet and lower body were insecurely planted barely into the informal dining area at the bottom of the stairs while I was leaning around the corner to make eye contact with my husband. Jerry was in the hallway at the top of the short flight of stairs and just preparing to enter the master bedroom. He needed to take a quick shower to get the handy man dirt that clung to his moist skin so we could leave for my company’s summer picnic with a friend and work associate of mine. The ‘friend and associate,’ Brian Reynolds was farther into the dining area and behind me; he was kneeling and had just finished pulling my panties down and off my weak and trembling thighs. I couldn’t avoid closing my eyes tightly against the visual contact I had been fighting to maintain with Jerry and shuddered as he slid two, then three long fingers into my rapidly lubricating sex. As soon as he watched Jerry leave the room he had slipped both hands under my conservatively short tennis skirt to knead and caress the soft full cheeks of my ass and press the crotch of my panties deep into my moist crease. I tried in vain to slap his hands away and felt betrayed by my own sexual urgency that was quickly taking over. I opened my eyes and fought to regain my senses so I could see what had happened to Jerry, and saw him staring back at me, almost as paralyzed as I was. . All of a sudden his eyes became steeled, they had been fixed on an image beyond me and now they narrowed with intense determination. His action was so quick and decisive I was unprepared to react equally, I could only claw at Brian’s hands to push him away, but he was much stronger than I and would not be distracted. Jerry almost jumped all the way down the flight of stairs and wheeled to face Brian so quickly, my molester wasn’t even aware of his presence before Jerry grabbed his full head of blond hair roughly with his right hand and brought his left knee powerfully into Brian’s upper chest and shoulder. Brian’s body was thrown hard in deflection off the heavy dining table and heels over-head backward as he rolled into a stunned heap across the room. Jerry was on him even before he rolled to a stop and picked him up like a large spiritless rubber dummy. He literally carried Brian back through the room and into the entry like a weightless swimmer and threw him into the closed entry door so hard the wood and glass exploded from the force and disassembled from the weight of Brian’s body that had finally become heavy, then his body continued on into the yard and I was truly afraid that Jerry was going to kill him. Instead of following the limp body into the yard however, he turned on me, and now I feared for my own life. I had never seen Jerry like this, and could never have imagined the intensity, maybe even the violent capacity of the man I had spent almost every day with for the previous six years. Instinctively I brought my arm up in defense against the blow I expected but never received. Instead, those intense eyes drilled into my soul as he said in a controlled steady voice. “You’ll need to pack a bag Lynette. I’ll call the Fairfield Inn and reserve a room for you. Then he turned, picked up his truck keys and disappeared into the garage. That was about 4:30, and I didn’t even bother to see how Brian was or if he was still even in the yard. We were going to pick up Brian’s wife Darlene at their home so we could get to the picnic site by 5:00, 40 miles away, and I didn’t know if she was home at the time so she could look after her husband, or if he actually needed an ambulance. I’m afraid my concerns at the time were far more self-centered as I tried in vain to even begin to deal with my own desperate situation. My husband was gone, right then I wasn’t sure I even knew who he was, the only thing I was sure of, was that if I was still there when he returned, I may not have been able to afford finding out whom he had become. The more I tried to deal with the mechanics of packing some clothes for an uncertain stay in a local hotel, away from my home, the more I focused on the little almost trivial and taken for granted details of my life that made me frightened for my future. I had been a working wife, and had been very successful by all standards. I had climbed up through the ranks of sales and marketing to a position with a successful high tech company as an executive and designated corporate spokesperson. Unfortunately my greatest ambition had eluded me since after year six; I was still not a working mother. We had tried desperately for the previous three yeas to have a child and had recently become serious about the process of adoption. Nothing was found wrong with Jerry, and after to all the tests conducted on me nothing could be found in my condition that would account for our failure, but the fact remained, those eggs of mine refused to play well with Jerry’s sperm. We had tried so hard, for so long that, in spite of the discouragement I was sure we would both feel that having our parenthood battle end with divorce or separation seemed to be an unacceptable epitaph to our relationship and an intolerable consequence of foolishness. Other than the failure to satisfy my deep longing to experience what I considered to be the ultimate in womanhood, most people would probably be envious of my success resume. I graduated from college in communication and after a couple of inconsequential positions in which I archived a measure of success without challenge; I secured an entry level position with the marketing division of a successful up and coming high-tech leader. I honestly suppose my appearance accounted for my rise to fame more than my mind, but I believe I was able to deliver in performance on the opportunities that came through my looks and figure. I was always very competitive and flourished during my freshman year in college as a JV cheerleader and as an outgoing student who was always in the middle of the social ‘in scene’. This was in spite of the fact that I was not sexually promiscuous; in fact, I was still a technical virgin when Jerry and I were married. I qualify the technicality of that by confessing that I was adventurous, maybe even outlandish without going ‘all-the-way’. One thing about me, tied into my competitiveness, is that I found it very hard to back down on a dare. It started with my roommates in one of the girl’s dorms where we all challenged and dared each other to flash the guys who played football on the spacious lawn outside our building. I got so excited by doing it that I almost came the first time I met eye contact with one of the guys while I was standing buck naked and visible from my head to upper thighs in front of my window. It became so exciting that I routinely undressed and paraded around my third floor room in the nude. The next year I made sure I got a room on the second floor so I would be more easily seen. When the dorm parents warned us that some of the girls needed to be more careful about their blinds I spent endless amounts of energy trying to find ways to act or behave so that my exposure looked accidental. When I had first started my little games as a freshman, I managed twice to forget the heavy bloomers that were part of the cheerleader outfits and had to lead cheers in my sheer, almost transparent nylon panties. Just knowing what I was wearing and showing was so stimulating that I was soaking wet. When one of the male cheerleaders did a lift with me and held me above him with his hand cupping my hot pussy, I know I came all over his hand. If he had held me there any longer, my juices would have been flowing and showing down his arm. He looked at me with a naughty smile and winked to acknowledge that he knew what a hot tease I was. He asked me out, but I was too afraid to accept because of what I thought he may try. I flashed my panties and even my bare pussy to professors as I sat in their classrooms and always allowed guys sitting across from me plenty of views up my skirt between spread thighs. It was during those first two years at college that I learned to masturbate, and did it often. Mostly I did it by myself in front of my open window, but occasionally with roommates in mutual masturbation sessions. On only two occasions, did someone else get me off, or visa-versa? One time with a roommate who came in unexpectedly and caught me lying naked with my pussy facing the window and my legs spread as wide as possible hoping someone could see me plunging my fingers rapidly in my hot eager sex. I was so overcome with lust already, that when her discovery of me was added to the excitement, a mind-blowing orgasm took over and kept me bucking wildly while she watched. Lori was so turned on watching me, that she ended up stripping down as well and straddled my head facing my feet as she moved her mouth between my legs and thoroughly devoured my pussy with her mouth. I could feel her tongue on me in such detail it was as though I was watching what she was doing in a virtual image and I was sure I could replicate those sensations for her in her own sexy swamp. We fingered and chewed each other to delirious cum after delirious cum all evening. I’m sure it was such a momentous night that we would have become sexually co-dependant partners, if she hadn’t mysteriously withdrawn from school two days later and returned home. The second and only other person-to-person encounter before Jerry and I started seeing each other was when I ran into Stewart Warren, the cheerleader who lifted me to orgasm during the previous year. I thought we had both forgotten about the incident and accepted when he asked me to go with him for a hamburger and movie. Things were going fine while we were eating; we had been laughing as we reminisced about the fun, humorous, and unexpected things that happened during games and practices and then he brought up my adventures with panties. I blushed, but felt a tingle between my thighs as I immediately remembered all of the most outstanding orgasms I had had during the previous years. When he asked me if I still wore the kind of panties that were see-thru or did I wear the tiny G-string style. I blushed and couldn’t answer. “I’ll bet you have to wear panties with an absorbent crotch.” He said. “I felt between your legs once and I was afraid my arm was going to shine under the bright lights from the fluids you left.” My mouth shot open in a shocked expression, and Stew just smiled with a wicked expression. While I sat there blushing and hot, he just looked at me, hoping to catch something in my expression that revealed the effect he was trying to have on me. “Let me see them now, I’ll bet five dollars they are soaking wet.” He said, continuing to stare through me. As he spoke, and watched, he held out his hand as though waiting for me to hand him something immediately. I looked at his opened, waiting hand and when its meaning registered, I said in a shocked and strangled voice. “What? You mean right now, right here?” Stewart just stared, and smiled, and then said three magic words in a challenging tone. “I dare you!” I had blushed many times in my life, but I had never felt the power of blush, embarrassment, and arousal as much as I did at that time. The thought of being discrete by going into the women’s restroom never crossed my mind. If the dare had been to stand on the tabletop and do it with a table dance, I don’t know if would have refused. I thought how fortunate it was at least that I was wearing a skirt at the time. My expression was totally serious, and I was totally turned on as I wiggled down into my seat and slowly pulled my skirt upward. When the hem was about three inches below my pussy, I snaked my fingers up along the sides of my legs until I could hook them into the leg openings of my panties at both hips, then I began pulling them down. I had to lean back against the seat and lift myself so the material could slip between the seat and my ass. When they had safely passed the holding point, I didn’t try to disguise my actions at all. I hoped everyone in the restaurant could see the progress of my revealing exposure. When they were at my feet, and I slipped them over my shoes, I kept my knees spread about 20 inches and used the already damp crotch to mop up the sodden mess that was running out of my steamy hole. I left my skirt pulled up like that and closed my knees only to about 12 inches while I brought the baby blue sheer panties up and laid them openly in Stewart’s hand. It excited me to see them sitting there openly, so anyone else could see. I hadn’t seen anyone I recognized there, but it wouldn’t have mattered, I wanted anyone who was interested to know how daring and sexy I was willing to be. Stew handled the blue nylon with both hands opening the panties up without making any effort to be discrete. He sensuously rubbed the crotch between his fingers and thumbs and pulled them up to his nose to draw in my full heady aroma, and then he licked at the wet crotch with his pink tongue. I moved my right hand down between my legs and slipped a practiced finger into the depths to pick up the slippery lubrication to make my action against my clit feel better. I closed my eyes and clenched the muscles in my face to show the delicious feelings that were racing through me in the intense climax that seemed to start, build and then carry on and on. “Beautiful.” Stewart said. “God you’re exciting. Let’s go.” He took my hand and led me from the table on wobbly legs. When I looked back, there was the pile of wet baby blue nylon, fluffed out like a table decoration centerpiece. I flushed with heat and satisfaction feeling wicked, daring and thoroughly nasty, all together at the same time. As we approached the car, he slowed a little and pulled me to him warmly with an arm around my shoulder. He gently turned me toward him and moved his lips to mine, tenderly at first and then with a little more passion while he caressed my back and then moved down to the upper swells of my soft ass. While holding me there and kissing I noticed his hands in a more purposeful examination of my clothing. His attention centered on the zipper of my skirt and my pulse quickened as I felt him slide it slowly down. The cool evening air on my bare skin was thrilling, but his warm fingers against the soft skin at the top of my ass crack were mind blowing. His mouth with sensuous kisses brushed along the side of my face below my ear lobe and onto the side of my neck as his hands started to ease my skirt from my hips. We were in a restaurant parking lot and I wasn’t sure where we were in relation to the pickup truck we parked when we arrived., but that didn’t seem to matter at least to Stewart since he had already started to strip me where we stood. My body shook and shivered, and not just from the cool air I felt as the skirt fell to the ground around my feet. Shit! If I hadn’t already become almost addicted to exhibitionism and masturbation in the safety of my own dorm room, I would have screamed and bolted from the site immediately. I was too intoxicated by the original dare and my own sexual excitement to do anything but stand in breathless anticipation of what was going to happen. Stew held me close as he as he continued to nuzzle his face into my neck and shoulder while he reached his strong hands around me and caressed the bare quivering cheeks of my ass. He slipped his hands under the tail of my silk blouse and tickled the flesh of my lower back with his fingertips. On upward his fingers danced until he came to and traced the line of my lacy bra strap. He stopped at the clasp and took a secure grip so he could unhook the connecting parts, he was going to continue. He caressed my whole naked back to confirm to me how close I was to nudity and that he was exercising control over my exposure. He teased the sides of my breasts without moving to fondle them and pinch my anxious nipples, and then he pulled his hands out and brought them to the front, between us and started to unfasten the eight buttons that held it secure. When the buttons were all unfastened, he pulled the two sides apart and stood slightly back to look at my bare flesh, covered only partially by my opened blouse and loosened bra. Goose bumps covered my hot flesh that was being cooled by the night air and I shivered again as he slid the material back, off my shoulders and let it flutter to the ground. He delicately lifted the shoulder straps of my blue lace bra and drew them off my shoulders as well, and let the flimsy garment fall to the ground with my other clothes. I couldn’t believe I was standing there, completely naked except for the shoes I was wearing, in a dimly lit restaurant parking lot. The look on Stewart’s face made me drip with lust and his eyes literally glowed with admiration and interest. He took my left hand delicately in his and slowly walked me to the passenger side of the pickup truck. As I climbed to the seat, he touched me with familiarity for the first time, running his fingers up the inside of my thigh to the soaked lips of my arousal. I couldn’t move as he traced the open crease with the tip of his finger and then slid it sensuously inside. My breath caught as I concentrated on his penetration; deeper and deeper he slid his finger into me until he could go no further. I was half-way into the truck and quickly rising to climax; as I arched my back in need for the release, then he pulled the teasing digit out, leaving me desperate and on the edge. He patted me on the rump, to move me up and into the seat and disappeared. In only a few seconds the driver’s door opened and the interior was bathed in light from the dome fixture. Apparently the switch on the passenger door didn’t work. I was doubly self-conscious of my nudity as I sat there beside him completely illuminated, since he was still fully dressed. When the engine thundered to life, the interior of the truck cab was plunged into protective darkness and he backed pulled out of his spot and we slowly left the lot. There was a brief instant of concern as I considered my clothes left in a pile on the asphalt, but it was more for the economic impact at having to replace them than the thrilling danger of not having them available to re-dress in, in the event of an emergency or discovery. He had to adjust the position of his penis in his slacks due to a certain state of arousal, and then quickly compelled me to spread my thighs so he could look at the wet lips of my pussy swollen with arousal. His gaze kept shifting between my exposed labia and the road as he tried to avoid crashing, and as his bulge grew, I opened the lips with my own fingers and started to masturbate toward the climax I desperately needed. Needing to be freed from restriction Stewart opened the zip and clasp on his trousers so he could haul his erect prick out into the open. I had seen pictures of flaccid penises in books and magazines, but in spite of my experience in fantasy and masturbation, I had never seen one up close, in the open and live before. I was fascinated with the size and menacing appearance of his hard shaft. It looked almost angry in its rigidity and he pulled my left hand to it so I could feel its heat and energy. What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 01 With Stewart’s encouragement I started to slide the outer skin up and down, learning to masturbate his thick cock like I did my own sensitive pussy. He was so crazy with lust, he couldn’t drive any more and pulled the truck abruptly to the curb, then he placed his hand at the back of my head and started to pull me towards his lap; the closer I came to his penis the more I realized his intent. I had never taken a male prick into my mouth, I had never even seen one naked in real life before that night, but I opened my mouth as he drew me close and took his excited organ into it. I learned to slide my lips up and down his shaft as the head plunged into my throat and then came almost out of my mouth. This was stimulating me as well and his urgent hand was pulling my ass up as he tried to gain access to the tender wetness between my legs. I pulled my knees under me and rose up so my open pussy was dancing in front of the passenger window. I remember hoping someone would happen by and see my most intimate nakedness on display. Soon Stew’s hips began to buck in the seat as he tried to force his cock deeper and deeper into my throat. I didn’t know what to expect but the intensity of his action caused enough concern to make me pull my mouth off of him just as he started to spew a load of hot cum out of the end, all over my face, and as I drew away he continued to spray his juice onto my breasts and even into my hair. My climax had started, and was cut short at the separation when I got into the truck, so I was left feeling less than totally satisfied. With Stewart’s sexual release, he finally broke into smiles and started to tell me how wonderfully I had done. I was pleased that I had done well, but still feeling some frustration as I leaned back against the door and opened my legs so I could finish getting myself off. Stew continued to smile as he watched a dream come true, a beautiful naked woman sitting open and masturbating for his amusement. My exhibitionistic nature loved having a hot pair of male eyes so close as I worked my fingers around and in my hot pussy. It took very little time to bring myself back up to the edge and then push me over it as I stroked my erect clitty to a powerful orgasm. Finally satisfied, I was able to think rationally about the situation and became anxious wondering how I was going to get myself back into my dorm without any clothes. It was almost midnight, and I was self-conscious about myself and the predicament I was in, and showed my concern as I searched around for something to put on. Stewart just smiled at my discomfort until I started to get angry with him and demanded that he help me find a solution. He moved me out of the way and pulled the seat back forward, then he searched around in the dark until he retrieved a plastic package containing a yellow rain slicker that had never been opened. He flipped the package to me and said. “Here, maybe this will help.” I tore the package open and pulled the slicker open so I could slip it on. When I fastened it up, it was a little loose, probably a man’s size, but it also covered only half of my thighs; people would be able to tell I was probably naked underneath. Stewart drove me to my dorm and parked outside. My concern was turning to anger as I considered the economic waste of literally throwing my clothes away, and started to blame him in for my loss. He saw my growing attitude and opened his door to get out. He rummaged around in the back, apparently putting something into a bag and then threw the plastic shopping bag at me still sitting inside. “Here, you can tell people that your clothes got messed up somehow and you had to bring them back in a bag.” I looked into the sack, expecting to see dirty cleaning rags, and saw my clothes. Everything was there except for the blue panties that had been left on the table at the restaurant. My mouth opened in surprise, but nothing came out. I could have hidden somehow and re-dressed so nothing would look suspicious, but I thought with a smile, that I now liked the idea of the concocted story if anyone questioned my bare legs under the yellow slicker. In fact I even un-snapped the bottom two snaps so I ran the risk of showing my pussy hairs if I wasn’t careful. With a big smile on both our faces, I climbed from the truck and gave Stew a sexy little kiss as I thanked him for a fun evening before I scampered into the dorm. The whole evening had been erotic and exciting, and I’m sure if our relationship had grown from that first date, my life would have taken a very different and probably promiscuous path. Somehow, something in me didn’t really want intimate sexual excess with a guy like Stewart, and he didn’t continue to beat down my door. I even worked hard to bring my personal sex fantasy life under control, probably due in large measure to a stern warning from the dorm director due to one of the girls complaining about my tendency toward open windows and nudism. Several months later I met Jerry, and we started a very romantic and wonderful courtship. Jerry was the perfect gentleman, teaching me to respect myself the same way he did. Our love grew deep and our friendship blossomed to become what we both thought was the foundation for a strong and lasting marriage. All together our courtship lasted almost eight months and the feeling of love based upon respect helped me set aside the fantasy, masturbation and exhibitionism that had almost dominated my thoughts before meeting Jerry. All of the fairytale princess things I had imagined and dreamed about in romance as a young girl were coming alive in my life and we were both completely excited about the long future we expected to share as we exchanged our wedding vows in a beautiful church wedding. Our extended families loved each other and everything was perfect for several years. Both of us were virgins on our wedding night and we thought our sex life was perfect, even if it was somewhat conservative. As I said earlier, I had graduated in communication and we both found ourselves immersed in career paths as we built some financial security and waited prudently to start our family. It wasn’t until we started to try to get me pregnant in earnest that things started to grow uneasy. After many long months and numerous unsuccessful home pregnancy tests, we were both nervous as we were tested medically and were frustrated with the lack of answers to our childless condition. Other factors started to exercise influence in our sex life as well. Jerry was getting busier in his work every day, and still didn’t seem to be advancing in his career as fast as me. In addition, our emphasis on the technical aspect of conceiving a child seemed to take from the romantic and erotic association of intimacy, this along with Jerry’s concern about keeping up with me professionally made him doubt whether or not I was as sexually attracted to him as I had claimed to be earlier in our relationship. Apparently since I didn’t come around sniffing as often, gave him the notion that I wasn’t interested, and when I tried to take more initiative he sometimes felt almost hurt and said he didn’t need pity sex, and that I was not ‘really’ interested. This really bothered me because I thought if anything, inside I felt the exact opposite. I was almost 30, and you know what they say about women in their 30’s and sex; their sex life supposedly peaks at that age, while the typical male sexual peak occurs at 18, and by 30 some men are slowing down. I admit I was uncertain, I know I was disappointed to not be able to get pregnant, and I’m sure I couldn’t hide it well, but I was also somewhat reluctant to push Jerry to a more active and ‘liberal’ attitude towards sex. The company I represented wanted me to start traveling more, particularly when we were involved in a trade show or large national, high profile, sales negotiation. As I traveled and grew, we continued to try in vain to have a family, and it seemed like Jerry and I grew further apart sexually. The more frustration I felt at home with Jerry, the more I started to rely on my own resources. At first whenever I traveled, the first thing I would do in my hotel room was open the curtains wide, and they would stay that way until after I had checked out and left the hotel. I didn’t do anything particularly outlandish To begin with, other than undress normally in my room, inviting anyone who may be outside the window to be a proverbial fly on my bedroom wall. As time went on, I became more overt, inviting any observer to watch by stripping naked in front of the window, and letting them know they were completely welcome to look. I started masturbating on top of the covers so my audience could watch, and even started to look for opportunities outside the room to flash or be seen in some intimate way. I would go to the ice machine wearing nothing but a towel, and somewhere along the way let the towel unwrap so I would be naked in the hallway or vending area. I would go to the pool and when I stood in deeper water, push my bikini bottoms down so I could masturbate there in the water without letting people that I could see, hear or even talk to know what I was doing. I would let the bottoms settle around my feet so I could pull them up if necessary, and a few times I left them there while I swam to the other end and back hoping someone saw before I recovered them and slipped them back on. This was fun and felt daring and I always came several times in the process. When I was not traveling, if I was restless at night, I climbed out of bed, leaving Jerry there asleep and went down to the front room. That room was furnished formally and the windows were covered only by two-inch wood blinds that we normally kept open anyway but could also be pulled up to completely uncover the window. There was a street light outside that always illuminated the room at night, and I would slip off my nightgown and stand naked in front of the window or recline on the couch facing it while I masturbated until I came enough to grow tired and ready for sleep. One time I fell asleep open and exposed, with a softly humming dildo buried deep in me and remained that way until after 5:00 AM. I was terrified that Jerry could have easily discovered me. How in the world would I explain my nudity, let alone the hummer in me? If my workday was busy and intense, I would frequently pull my skirt to my waist, push down my panties and stockings, and frig myself to multiple climaxes on my 30-minute drive home. That’s where I eventually got into trouble. One day, a few months before Jerry caught Brian with his fingers buried deep in my pussy; I had left work after a hard day and had been wearing a nice conservative pant-suit. I felt that all too familiar itch while I was walking to my car, and unzipped my slacks on the way. I was ready to slip into the car seat when a wicked thought raced through my mind. I had walked from the building late, when most of the other employees had already left, and I was parked in a more remote area having left for lunch earlier and finding it difficult to locate a spot closer to the entry when I returned. I knew how difficult it was to work my slacks down while sitting in the car so I took a quick security scan of the area to make sure I was out of sight from anyone who could still be around and then I slipped my thumbs into the waist of my pants and pushed them down. When my pants were at my feet I stepped out of them and then threw them into the back seat through the open door. It was exciting having my bottom covered only by my sheer panties, but not exciting enough; I scanned the area again quickly and then pushed my panties down as well and took them off. Now with a naked fanny I was really turned on and ready for fun on the road. When I’m really into playing with myself I like to pinch my nipples as well, and that was challenging with everything I still had on. I shivered with lusty desire again as I quickly fumbled all of the buttons of my blouse open, and then held my breath as I quickly slipped it off my shoulders and down my arms. I un-clasped my bra and slipped it off as well, finally sitting there completely naked for a moment before slipping partly back into my blouse without buttoning it up. I started my car and cautiously drove from the employee lot looking one more time to make sure no one had seen me, but thrilled at the possibility someone had. I worked my way to the freeway and then settled into serious work with my fingers to start bringing me off. I didn’t notice the SUV that was gaining on me in the lane to the right. I didn’t even notice it as it slowed and kept pace with me while I was lost in masturbation. It wasn’t until it started to move slightly ahead that I looked over and saw Brian Reynolds sitting behind the wheel. I panicked as I saw him look knowingly in the direction of my car. He was too far forward to effectively see inside my car, but he wasn’t a moment earlier, and then he turned to look back into my face. And I flushed with tension as we looked directly at each other. Then I realized he wasn’t just looking at me, he wanted to make sure I had recognized him. He must have lightly applied his brake because he was suddenly back directly beside me, looking at my naked cumming body before I could react defensively. My blouse was still pulled back, so from his elevated position he could probably see my naked breasts, my bare tummy and my busy fingers. I shook and trembled all over as I came violently for both of us from the sexual intensity that overtook me as someone I knew well was watching me in this erotic act of personal satisfaction. My body bucked up to meet my thrusting fingers as I came powerfully, and I hit my brake to slip behind him so I could bail off of the freeway and find a place to stop, dress and then get the hell out of there. My mind was in a whirl and I started to cry as I considered in detail how badly incriminating all of this had been to me, to my career, maybe even to my marriage. I cursed at myself for how stupid I had been to take such risks. The driving risk alone on a freeway was enough to make me wonder if I was mentally unbalanced. I don’t know how I was able to get through the preparations of our evening meal, and I must have looked frazzled throughout the evening and wondered what Jerry was thinking as he watched me deal with all my emotions and uncertainty. I couldn’t sleep well and even though I dressed for work as usual and left the house as I normally did, I quickly returned when Jerry was gone and called in sick. I stayed home and did everything I could to paint a normal picture in my own mind of the previous day’s commute home. Try as I may, I couldn’t make what happened seem less obscene and bizarre. I couldn’t begin to imagine how I was ever going to face Brian again at work. I knew I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye without feeling absolutely naked, and the more I thought about it, the less I felt able to defend or explain my behavior. As the day went on, I considered quitting or requesting a transfer so I would be less likely to ever run into him again, but ultimately I realized I was going to have to face whatever he might throw at me. When I went back to work the next day I was petrified to go to the staff meeting I knew he would also attend. I was sitting in my favorite seat around the conference table when Brian sat down next to me. I started to hyperventilate and became dizzy as I tried to find the strength to acknowledge his presence. He said hi in the most normal way, and as the meeting progressed to conclusion there was not the slightest indication anything had ever happened. After the meeting was over, he was still courteous and polite and I started to hope that he had not recognized me after all. Day after day it was the same; no indication at all that he had seen my lewd behavior, until about two weeks later. I was just leaving when he came back in from the parking lot with an exasperated look. When he saw me walking toward him, his expression lit up and he asked. “Lynn, thank heaven you’re still here, are you on your way home?” “Yes I am.” I replied, and then he asked almost in desperation if I would mind giving him a lift since his SUV was broken down. Without thinking of the possible consequences I said, “sure, no problem. Is someone going to come back with you and help you get it home?” “The dealer just hauled it away.” He said, and as we started to walk to my car I realized how difficult this could get. I had stopped worrying about whether he had seen me, and assumed if he had he didn’t know it was me, or maybe somehow he didn’t care? During the two weeks since the incident, I had gone from the point of being scared to death about what might happen at work to making my exposure while driving naked a powerful and favorite masturbatory fantasy. We talked openly about trivial items for a few minutes as we became comfortable with one another, and then Brian somehow grew silent and seemed to be somewhere else in thought. When I could tell he wasn’t listening any longer, I looked at him and then asked simply, “What?” “Huh, what do you mean?” He asked. “Oh, I was just visualizing a fantasy.” He added. Without thinking I asked him to explain. He told me he had always fantasized about looking into the cars around him and seeing a hot woman, carried away in erotic thoughts and sexual fantasies that made her careless and opened her up to exposure. “That’s why I drive an SUV with a lift kit. So I can sit high enough to see into other cars. I love to see women with their skirts pulled up so I can look at their bare legs. When you agreed to give me a lift I hoped you would want to drive the way you did a couple of weeks ago.” “Oh my god, you did see me.” I cried as my fingers gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. “I don’t know what to say Brian, I’m so ashamed.” Tears filled my eyes as I fought to retain control of the car and attention on what I was doing while I dealt with the release of emotion that had built up since he had seen me. “Hey don’t get upset Lynette.” He said. “You don’t realize how much I enjoyed seeing you that way. The last thing in the world I would do is say anything or do anything to make you feel bad about that. I’ve dreamed about that sight for as long as I can remember and haven’t been able to forget it since. That it was someone I know and think of as highly as you just makes it that much more amazing. You need to know that you are the most exciting woman I know. I’ve always dreamed I could meet or at least see woman that exciting, but I’ve found that even those who are professional exhibitionists do it only for the economics. I always look, but never really expected to see genuine sexuality like that, I’ll never forget it.” “Oh thanks.” I said, sarcastically. “That’s all I wanted to hear; that you would never forget it.” “Don’t be like that. I don’t want you to be upset or to stop; I want you to know how much I enjoyed seeing you. I wish you could pretend I was invisible and let yourself go again.” Brian said and the impact of what he was asking didn’t really sink in. “Why don’t you show me how you manage to get carried away while driving? I promise I won’t make you wreck, I’ll just help keep a lookout. You’ll even be safer, isn’t that a good idea?” “Please Brian, don’t ask; I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” I responded. “I appreciate your compliments, but I just don’t think I’m ready to do anything. I’m married and don’t want to have any problems. Aren’t you married too?” “Yes, I am married,” said Brian. “And I don’t want any problems either. I don’t want to have sex with you, I just want to watch you, and see ‘more of you’, if you know what I mean? Look Lynn, I’m not going to blackmail you or anything, forcing someone to be sexy doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t want to cause problems; I just think we have interests that complement each other. I like to watch, and you like to be watched, or at least run the risk of it. I don’t want to screw up my marriage, but my wife is so conservative and up tight about sex, I could never get her to do the things you seem to like to do. I really just want to watch you.” What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 01 I couldn’t do anything as I listened to his words and stared at the road ahead of me, and I couldn’t prevent the sexy feelings rush through me as I listened to him. What he was saying and suggesting made the blood drum in my temples and my breathing become shallow and dizzying. “At least let me look at your legs while you drive.” Brian said in a hushed voice laced with arousal. My thighs rubbed against each other as I became more aroused and I gripped the wheel tightly with my sweaty hands, until I finally brought a tentative hand to my lap and finally began to gather my skirt and pull it up. My nipples were so hard they felt like they were going to burst and I pretended in my mind to be held over a barrel by the discovery of my indiscrete actions, weeks before, as my imagination started to beg for this compelled exposure. I had to wiggle in the seat and continue shifting my weight to facilitate the upward movement of my skirt. I think I could have stopped with the hem half way up my thighs, but I continued. I tugged it here and there until I was no longer sitting on any of it. I thought Brian could see the sheer black panties I was wearing; I knew I could when I looked down, and I let my thighs part a few inches so we could both see well. Neither of us spoke as he pretended to be invisible and I let myself get into what I was doing. I eventually tickled my fingers up my thighs, enjoying the sensations and exposure. When I made contact with the fabric of my panty, I sucked in a breath and then gently traced the lips of my pussy and the moist slit between them through my panty crotch. I wanted badly to slip my finger way up into my wet hole, but held off as long as possible. “Do you take off your panties?” My invisible passenger asked, so quietly it was almost as though it was from my own imagination. I didn’t answer; I just brought my thumb to slip into the waist of my panties and started to push them down. I did the weight shifting thing again as I worked them down, out from under me and off my legs until they were at my feet. I slipped out of them and then picked the panties up and placed them in Brian’s lap. With my sex open and exposed to my watcher, I built impatiently to serious masturbation so I could get to the cum I so desperately needed. By the time I came noisily, Brian had released his throbbing penis and was cumming all over the interior of my car as well. I looked briefly at his organ and froze. He was huge, and I kept my pussy clamped tightly in my hand as I imagined how it might feel. He had given me directions to his house and we were nearing his exit so I tugged my skirt down a little so my pussy was now in peek-a-boo hiding. He could probably see my exposed lips if he leaned forward or if I moved my legs, but otherwise he could see no more than the dark hair of my bush. Brian re-secured his softening giant penis in his pants and refastened them. He broke his silence in giving me the final directions to his house, and as we sat waiting for the light at the entrance to his road he leaned over and gave me a kiss to say thank you. It wasn’t wet and soggy, but he did slip me a little of his tongue for intimacy and slipped his warm hand between my thighs to press against my satisfied pussy. “Thank you.” He said sincerely. “Keep this warm and satisfied.” He added pressing noticeably against my slit. I had parted my thighs for him and my lips opened up so he was pressing against the moist inner surface in a very intimate way when he said it. We pulled up to his house and he got out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and memories. I drove on home and wondered how far this thing with Brian might go. I was content with his assurance that he didn’t want to upset his marriage or mine and felt certain it would involve nothing more than this nasty but innocent sex play, but still the image of his large cock made me dizzy and kept me very wet. We both traveled for the company and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves going to the same event in Orlando. We ended up in different hotels that faced each other, and as we exchanged information about our room locations, we found that our rooms looked out at each other. In the sexy banter we had shared since the ride home, I had confessed to him before my habit of leaving my curtains open when I traveled, and he made me promise not to close them just because he was across from me. He had already accurately guessed which room I was in because of the open window he had seen shortly after we had both checked in, and had even watched me change clothes for dinner before we exchanged room information. We had dinner together the first night and then said goodbye and went our separate ways. When I got to my room I was excited, knowing he had already watched me and would be at his window again, not to mention the possibility of other guests being able to see me as well. I turned on the lights and went to the middle of the room facing the open window and started to undress. Everything I removed added to my own excitement until I was finally standing there completely naked. I moved and posed in front of the glass bending over and pulling my cheeks apart to open me up to his anxious eyes. I lay on the bed with my pussy facing the window and masturbated unashamedly until I drifted off. I woke up at about three in the morning and climbed under the sheets after finally switching off the lights so I could get a few hours of sound sleep before 7:00 am. I had to hurry to get in and out of the shower in time to get to the restaurant for our 8:00 breakfast. It was a busy day, and there was little time available for playtime pursuits until a larger group of us met for dinner. Brian sat next to me during our meal, and got me to remove my panties while sitting there at the table. The sexual banter and teasing continued throughout the evening and I found his fingers between my thighs often as he played with my pussy. I was turned on something fierce and wanted to cum badly, but he wouldn’t bring me all the way off. Before taking me back to my hotel, he wanted to show me what he could see from his room. As we went to his 12th floor room (I was on the 10th) we were alone in the elevator and he pulled up my skirt and fingered my pussy like he had all evening. I was panting hard when the bell rang and as we started walking down the hall, he started to undress me. I was so excited I let him and we left articles of my clothing all along the hallway to the room. I was naked before we got to his door and when we got inside, he moved me to the window and stood behind me as he pointed out my room. He had not turned on the lights, but we were still illuminated from the lights on the other building as we stood close to the glass. I leaned against the window and he fondled my nude body from behind as he brought me closer to orgasm. He lifted my left leg to rest it on the coffee table beneath the at our side and then he knelt behind me. He concentrated his lustful attention on my ass and pussy and had me tilt the angle of my pelvis to make my wet slit accessible to his mouth and tongue. Even though I was completely lost in arousal, I was shocked when he kissed and licked at my open pussy, then he drove his tongue deep into me and chewed on my sensitive flesh. When Jerry and I were married, he wouldn’t go down on me. In spite of the fact that our church didn’t come right out and declare oral sex a sin, they said things about it that made him feel uncomfortable. When I became curious and interested after watching a porn flick on hotel pay per view, I remembered that he had said years earlier, that it was dirty and un-natural, and that any respectable woman would refuse to have anything to do with it. He held the same view toward sucking on his penis, so the only one that had been in my mouth was Stewart’s that single time before I met Jerry. I was reluctant to suggest we experiment sexually in any other way after he had expressed his strong opinions, and because he never made an effort to be adventurous or original. God what Brian did felt good, I couldn’t believe how wonderful and wicked it felt as I almost raced to a shaking climax. Instead of letting me relax and mellow out in afterglow as I leaned against the glass, Brian continued to tease me lightly until I felt my need waking up again. While I was lost in the sensations of sexual foreplay, Brian had removed his clothes, but I didn’t sense his nakedness until he stood again and embraced me from behind. The feel of his naked skin on mine was electric as I finally sensed where this was likely to end up. As he leaned into me I felt his large member rising between my legs. I couldn’t see his penis, but from what I could remember and feel, it was much larger than Jerry’s. I moved my hand down to touch it and it was huge. In the few porn flicks I had seen while alone in my hotel room, I was amazed at how large some of the actor’s members were. I thought it had to be trick photography or that the guy was some kind of a freak of nature, but here was one in the flesh that would rival any I saw on the screen. I sucked in my breath and felt dizzy wondering when he was going to push it into me. I couldn’t let go of his tool as I stroked and fondled it to learn its detail. “That feels good.” Brian breathed into my ear. “Do you like it?” Silently I nodded my head yes. “Do you want it in you?” He asked and after a pause I nodded again. “Guide it in for me.” He said, and I lifted onto my tiptoes as I slid it up and down my gash, and then pushed the head into my wet opening. “Oh shit.” I said, as I pushed back against the organ to slide myself onto it. Completely lost in lust and so dizzy I could barely stand I tried to suck his monster into my hole. “Oh god, push it in, push it all in please. Shit, fuck me with that big beautiful cock, Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhh yeeeeeesss. That’s it.” I drawled out as I felt it slide all the way into me. Then he pulled back out and pushed in again until he built a rhythm for sex that drove me wild. I had never been fucked like this in my life, I never knew a cock could feel like this. We weren’t making love. He was fucking the shit out of me, and I was fucking him. I was in a dream and started to cum as soon as I felt him all the way inside me and it seemed like I came again and again every time he thrust his long fat prick into me. Brian had great stamina as he thrust that big beautiful shaft into me over and over for ten minutes at least before he increased his urgency and tempo as his balls boiled up to spew his sperm into me. By the time he was ready to cum he was lifting me off the floor each time he plunged in, and I screamed in ecstasy as he pumped stream after stream of hot potent cum deep inside my pussy. I stayed there with him in his room that night and we fucked over and over all night long. He showed me every position imaginable and he filled me with his cum at least four times. I have no idea how many times I came. Far more than I ever thought possible. At about 4:00am, he sent me to the ice machine naked while he went toward the elevator to see if my clothes were anywhere to be found. I got the ice, but my clothes were gone. After we showered that morning, I gave him my keycard that somehow I had hung onto and he went to my room to get some clothes for me to wear. When he got back he had brought a good selection of lingerie and not a lot else. I had to go back with a bra that looked a little like a bikini top and pair of shorts. He kept the other lingerie saying that I would need to come back and put each article on to model them one piece at a time for him before I could take them back to my room. Before I left he said, “By the way, your message light was blinking.” All the way back to my room I worried that Jerry might have tried to call me the previous night and I was in total anxiety before I finally called home and caught Jerry before he left for work. No, he hadn’t called, but he wondered why it was that I had not been in my room to respond to the message until morning. Shit, I had given him cause for concern needlessly. Well I guess ‘needlessly’ was up for question. I had cheated on my husband, all night long, and I was afraid I would end up doing it again. The next night was our last on the trip and Brian walked me to my room. This time he didn’t undress me in the corridor, but he did bring the lingerie I left with him that morning. He said the condition for getting it back was the same. For the next 40 minutes I paraded to and from the bathroom where I put on a lingerie fashion show for him one single item after another. Either my pussy or my tits were on display all the time and my lust rose and rose until I dripped juice as I walked around the room almost naked. As we got to the end of the modeling pieces, Brian started to undress and was wearing less and less each time I came out and paraded. When he was naked and I was wearing my last bra, he threw me on the bed and climbed over me. He knelt over my head as he fed his big dick to my mouth. I had sucked on it numerous times the night before and I knew my job was to make it bob with arousal. When he pulled out and moved down to kiss my pussy I was already writhing in ecstasy when the electricity of sex was shattered by the ringing of the phone. In panic, I picked up the receiver and heard Jerry’s voice. I think the suspicions from the morning call prompted him to call that evening. In desperation I tried to get Brian to back away, but he wouldn’t go even as I pounded desperately against his head. Brian finally looked up at me and just smiled wickedly. While I was trying to respond to Jerry’s questions, Brian was working his way up my body. He reached under me to find the bra strap closure I was laying on and un-hooked it. As I tried to resist he pulled it off so I was completely naked and then he sucked noisily on my nipples while I tried to hide the sounds from Jerry. I had to tell Jerry I had just showered and was struggling to get dried off, and that the TV was on in the background. While Brian was trying to dive me mad with sex Jerry tried to carry on a normal conversation with his wife. Brian was probing at the entrance of my pussy with his big rod and whispered not as quietly as he should that he was going to fuck me better than my husband ever had with his big fat cock. As he pushed his meaty shaft deep into me I had to bite my knuckles to keep from screaming out in lust and finally told Jerry I had to go put something on, that room service was knocking on the door. I would have to call him back. I tried several times to get the phone back into its cradle before it fell from my hand to the floor. I prayed that Jerry had already hung up but was too far gone to be able to stop what was happening. Brian plowed his thick penis in and out of me so fast the bed was banging into the wall and I was screaming as I came over and over. Again Brian and I stayed together for hours as we fucked and fucked long into the night. The next day we checked out and prepared to leave in the afternoon, and on the way home Brian and I were able to talk about what had happened. Neither of us had intended for things to go as far as they did, but we couldn’t undo what had happened. I was determined to make it up to Jerry and he was determined to stay with his wife. The thing I couldn’t escape was the monotony and preoccupations Jerry and I had let slip into our own sex life. Try as I may, I couldn’t loosen him up and this was now much more frustrating because I had discovered how remarkable sex could be. Maybe the illicit nature of our adultery made it seem more remarkable than it really was but the impressions and memories were real. At the same time the love that had been in my life with Jerry was still real and I didn’t really want to find sexual fulfillment outside my marriage with someone else, I wanted to find it with Jerry. In spite of the distractions we tolerated and the disappointments we felt in trying to get me pregnant I wanted our struggles to be resolved together. My god I thought; in all of our fight for pregnancy, there was no conclusive evidence that either Jerry or I had physical problems that would prevent pregnancy with other partners if we weren’t together. I had been screwed silly for two days, and Brian had pumped more potent seed more deeply into me than any man had ever been. We had long since decided that birth control was unnecessary. What if I was pregnant with a Brian baby? How the hell could we ever deal with that on top of everything else? I had felt the disappointment for so long, the idea that I could possibly be pregnant was both electrifying and terrifying at the same time. By the time our plane had landed and I was on my way home, I had only managed to get more confused about my life and what I had done, and more uncertain about how I was going to be able to resolve the many problems and complications that filled it. The biggest thing that bothered me was how much I had enjoyed being thoroughly fucked by Brian. I don’t think his large cock was the single source or cause of my excitement, but I think it became the symbol of it, so it also became my fixation, and I knew I would be vulnerable when he offered it to me again. Psychologists have argued for years that the constant pressure of guilt was actually a subordinate cause for repeated offense. When something occupies your mind for a longer period of time, you are more likely apt to repeat the thing that caused the guilt. Clinical professionals have argued against religionists for decades that the best way to change or modify inappropriate behavior was to remove the issue of guilt. We have become a much more permissive society as a result. Religion, on the other hand maintains the best way dispose of guilt is by or through the process of repentance, and then abstinence. I honestly questioned my own resolve to go through a humbling process of confession and repentance so I could be forgiven and forgive myself and move on. Especially since I couldn’t separate the mental preoccupation of my guilty conscience from the fantasy and memory of Brian’s wonderful fucking. Even as I drove home vowing to be a good and moral wife, I couldn’t get the symbol of Brian’s beautiful cock out of my mind. I pushed my pants and panties down and masturbated over the image of his thrusting prick all the way home to Jerry. I was happy to see Jerry’s car at home when I arrived and ashamed of the things foreign to our marriage that had dominated my attention on the drive from the airport. I pushed the guilt aside and rushed into the house to find Jerry. I surprised him while he was cooking up a light snack to take the edge of appetite since we had planned to go to dinner after I got back from Orlando. He gave me a sweet but brief kiss, and looked deeply into my eyes as he asked. “Do you realize how much I love you Lynn?” I was surprised and touched by the warmth in his voice as I responded that I thought I did, and that I loved him just as deeply. “Do you?” He asked, there seemed to be a look of, I don’t know, uncertainty, in his eyes for a brief moment, then he patted me on the behind and told me to get dressed so we could get an early jump on the Friday night dinner crowd. Jerry had asked me specific questions that related to details of the Orlando trip that made we wonder if he had any suspicions concerning it, but I thought that my guilty conscience might have been making me read things into his questions that weren’t really there and dismissed my worry. Over the next few days, he asked about earlier trips, and how I spent my free time on them. Did I usually go out to dinner with work mates or did we entertain customers. When I had time on my hands, did I sit around my hotel room and watch pay-per-view or did I go sight seeing? I couldn’t imagine what the source of his curiosity was, and it almost made me feel defensive as I tried to answer his questions. When he wanted to know why I didn’t call him back at the end of my trip to Orlando until the next morning, after I had cut off our phone call the night before. I couldn’t very well tell him it was because Brian was pushing his big prick into me and that he had fucked the shit out of me over and over until after 3:00 AM, so the morning call was the best I could do. What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 02 Some readers have already made up their minds that Lynette's husband Jerry is going to 'wimp out', and grovel to get her to come back so he can become a voyeur and watch her continue to cheat. The tendencies some of you believe I have to wimp out may not necessarily apply in this case though. Not everything turns out the way we think or even hope it should. This story will turn out the way it does because it's the way the real events happened. Sometimes the good guy loses, and the bad guy wins, but I don't think who's right and who's wrong is as important as what each person does with the hand of cards that's dealt to him or to her. This story is simply a recitation of life as it happened for good or bad. If you can't live with the possibility of a bad ending, don't take the chance by reading it. If we thought there was a good chance that something we considered doing would come out bad, we probably would choose to do something else, something safe and guaranteed to end happy. I confess that I try to shoot for the woman's point of view more than I do the man's, but that's only because I think we men are usually too judgmental, and still apply a double standard; maybe this is my way of applying a counterbalance through some sort of affirmative action, Good honest people don't always come out on top; even people who make mistakes can survive if they learn, should the world deny them the rigth to happiness because of their survival? I love character and the other things in life that come from overcoming adversity no matter what it is, or who it is. I'm not a moralist, or a hedonist. I believe we all have the capacity to resolve troubling issues in our lives with those around or close to us; issues that sometimes seem insurmountable when we live by a rigid standard that seems more important itself than the people who are subject to it. This doesn't mean I'm against rules and standards, it just means that the spirit of the law sometimes has to be considered, along with the letter of it. A lot of people believe there is only black and white to any issue or opinion, there is no grey. I disagree, I'm that guy who always comes up with the 'well...what if' to the question. That's because I believe we are almost always better off if we find a way to fix something, than we are by throwing it out and replacing it. The thing we lose with the cut and switch method is everything we learn from the process of problem solving. Cutting out the bad cuts out all the good we learn as well. I guess I'm just an incurable fixer, but then this story isn't about me. Maybe it's time to find out what Jerry thinks. -------------------------------------------------------- When I looked into the curio cabinet, just past the archway leading into the dining area and off the bottom of the stairway, and tried to focus on the reflected image in the cabinets mirrored back, I couldn't believe what I thought I was seeing. Brian Reynolds, a workmate of my wife's, who I had met only a minute before was almost kneeling down behind Lynn and either he or my wife had apparently pushed the skirt of the thin summer dress she was wearing all the way to her waist. I could clearly make out the length of her naked straining leg and hip as she stood with her legs obscenely spread while Brian fucked I presume several fingers in and out of her open pussy. Even though I found it hard to believe what I was seeing, I wouldn't say I the idea that something was going on between them was completely new to me. Suspicions had already given way to certainty, and I knew my wife was having an affair. I had been numb forever it seemed, at least since the final night she was in Orlando during her last business trip. The trip was to a trade show for the company she worked for, she had even invited me to go along, but my work load wouldn't permit it. I've wondered often during the time between that night and now how things might have taken a different course if I had gone along. We had been married for more than 6 years, and it seemed to me like our marriage was as strong as or stronger than anyone's we knew. Our relationship had been tested when we mutually agreed to start a family and discovered that was not going to be an easy process. Both of us had been medically tested, and nothing was discovered in either that would account for our failures in conception. Somehow the notion materialized in our fertility consultations that Lynn's womb was not a receptive environment for successful fertilization. We spent all we thought we could afford on everything imaginable for the better part of three years, but nothing worked. More complicated procedures would cost tens of thousands of dollars, and without guarantee, and without insurance to cover the majority of the expense; they seemed far beyond our capacity to handle or hope for. I thought the disappointment was equal for both of us, but Lynette seemed to show it more than I did. To escape, she buried herself in her career and continued to enjoy constant success. I felt almost mired down in mine career track. I was a software engineer, and it seemed that even though there was plenty of work, the business community I was in was highly competitive and the buy-outs and mergers were so rampant there was always an underlying note of insecurity and competitive pressure to survive. Pressures were always applied to meet objectives, and the idea of moving up the ladder to become a project manager seemed almost masochistic. Communication, and even caring between us seemed to be more strained and less genuine, and sex as a result became less frequent and exciting as well. When we were first married, we were naïve; both of us came from very conservative roots. Neither of us doubted that the other came to our wedding night virtuous so the awkward issues of experience, or lack thereof came into play, but we were both patient and tolerant as we grew together. Early on in the bedroom, due to my inexperience mostly, I think I may have appeared provincial in our effort to talk about the things we did or thought about doing to give each other pleasure. I recall that I was rather outspoken one time about how I thought oral sex was perverse and unacceptable in any loyal and loving marriage. Now I wonder how I could have come across so high and mighty, I have always tried to be tolerant of others at least, but more than that, I've learned how important it is to have open, honest expressive communication with those closest to you. Failure to honestly consider another's point of view fairly and without judgment closes the door on everything, not just the subject of a particular issue in question. I believe now that many of the things I was taught to condemn and avoid while I was growing up in a conservative home, like oral or even anal sex, can be acceptable and healthy in an exciting sexual relationship, if they are enjoyable to both and are shared between faithful loving partners. After having made a judgmental stand on the issue of oral sex, the right or wrong of it was obscured by the inflexibility of my initial firm position. Lynn had accepted and supported my leadership, but when I started to take a more liberal personal view of things I thought I couldn't show her without loosing her respect. I became curious and hen fascinated by the uninhibited expression of sexual desire that seems to be advocated as the norm in today's society by the media, and almost envied people who could do outlandish sexual things without fear of criticism or consequence. I honestly thought most of the 'wild' behavior we hear about was actually staged commercial enterprise, not real people acting out and giving way to lusty urges. I wished real people could be disarming, daring and throw caution to the wind, but knew realistically that was very likely. I wanted sex to be more exciting, and hotter between Lynn and me, but didn't know how to make it happen, also the issues over our failures at getting Lynn pregnant rose up between us. She became moody, morose and outright depressed, so it seemed like she started to resent sex. I took it personally and thought she was finding me less sexually attractive. When I felt less desired, I felt selfish if I always took the initiative in sex, and when, on increasingly rare occasions, Lynn would fight through her funk and try to start something, I wasn't responsive. I thought she wasn't really excited by me, and even accused her of offering pity sex to help me out. To say our sex life was suffering, wouldn't be an understatement, we were hurting, but neither of us would admit it. When she started to have more success in her career, and got more recognition and attention, it showed in the way she carried herself and dressed. Things really started to bother me when I interpreted all of that as evidence Lynette was starting to behave more sexually. I took notice of the way she dressed and the things she wore. She was starting to buy more sexy underwear from Victoria's Secret, and women to men that they never wear those things for themselves or for comfort, they wear them for men to see and appreciate or to turn men on; she wasn't doing much to show off to me at home, so I thought the worst of it rather than add my own whistles to her ego. Her skirt length moved up to a few inches above her knees, and I didn't think it was just due to the current fashion trend. She started getting up from bed, well after I had settled down and was supposedly asleep. I didn't think much of it until it happened several times in one week. When she didn't return to bed for quite a while one night, I slipped out of bed and quietly made my way down the stairs to see if she had fallen asleep somewhere. The living room was somewhat dark because the lights were off, but at the same time it seemed lit up by the lights from a street lamp and a full moon. I wouldn't have suspected her being in there until I heard a soft but alluring moan. At first I couldn't tell if it was the sound someone with a tummy ache, or something else; the sound was familiar and very personal. I peeked my head around the corner and was shocked to see Lynn stretched out along the couch, half reclining with both feet almost to the floor and legs spread wide. She was completely naked and masturbating with urgency; she was obviously very close to orgasm, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she pumped the fingers of one hand deeply into her wet sex and pinched her inflamed clit between her thumb and two fingers of the other. Her gorgeous firm breasts heaved with her labored breathing while she rushed to the climax she seemed to desperately need. I watched, spellbound while her body seemed to lock in a series of spasms while a tremendous orgasm rippled over her flesh. She seemed locked in the intensity of that cum for ever and whispered nasty sexy things to herself through tightly clenched teeth. It was one of the most beautiful sexy things I had ever seen. Complete natural lust with no commercial pretense. She obviously was learning to love sex and knew how to make all her feelings come alive with her own fingertips. I was captivated and mesmerized, and at the same time jealous, wondering who she was fantasizing about. I couldn't imagine myself as the object of her lusty imagination and was tortured with the need to find out whose face was painted on the canvas of her dreams. During the days that followed, I watched Lynette much closer and even started to inspect her soiled laundry for any tell-tell signs of sexual activity. I was amazed to discover so many different and very sexy pairs of panties she had that I had never taken notice of. Several times I was able to examine them shortly after she took them off and usually they were still damp. I couldn't tell if the juices came from her own excitement of if some had been provided by another man, and I became obsessed with the need to know for sure. I had made it a point to smell my own sperm so I could make sure I was familiar with any characteristic odor, and couldn't place that odor on any of her lingerie no matter how hard I exercised my own imagination. I hadn't found anything that would conclusively point to Lynn cheating on me, but somehow, deep down inside I was certain she had, and the thought of it hurt beyond description. One night she came home visibly distraught and on edge. I thought maybe there had been a blow-up at work or maybe she had a close call in the commute that had frightened her. She was still upset the next morning and although she left for work as normal, when I did, I think she came home early and spent most of the day at home inside. One of our neighbors had asked me if she was feeling well. When I seemed confused about the question the neighbor said she had seen her come back home still early in the morning, and then later that morning when the neighbor stopped in to check, Lynette answered the door looking like she had just gotten out of bed. Lynn seemed on edge for several days until she started getting up again at night, and I watched her masturbate wildly in front of the open window, daring anyone outside to watch her cum. This was definitely serious sex that didn't include me. Still I found no evidence of infidelity in her panties other than what seemed to be her own arousal. She had started to travel more frequently after promotions, and when I examined her clothes when she returned, I still found very little. Some of her lingerie seemed clean and fresh as though she had never even put it on, or if she had, she didn't keep it on for long. She had a new bikini that she bought for swimming, but it was skimpier than anything I had ever seen her in before, and in spite of the jealousy I felt at her being seen by other men in it, I was aroused at the thought of how sexy she must look in it as well. One night, just before she went to Orlando for the trade show, she got a call on her cell phone late at night. We were in bed, and the phone must have been set to vibrate because I didn't hear it ring. She slipped out of bed and went over to the patio door that opened onto the deck of our second story bedroom. We often opened the drapes after the lights were out at night, because in the winter time, if there was much snow, wild deer would come down from the hills near by and eat from the dormant bushes close to the ground around our home, and it was interesting to watch them while we were cuddled up in our bed. Lynette moved in front of the glass doors to talk in a whisper and I shifted silently beneath the covers so I could clearly see her. I could hear her mild protest, that didn't sound convincing and the hushed whispers of pretended shock in her quiet voice. She turned to look at me, and when she was convinced I was still fully asleep, she lifted her nighty up and slipped it over her head, then she dropped it silently to the floor. She was completely naked and her skin shown from outside lighting and the moon that night. My cock stiffened from looking at her, but I was upset and hurt that someone else, on the other end of that call was being involved in this act of intimacy, not me. She turned back to face the outside and got right next to the glass so she could be easily seen if anyone was there. I wondered if the caller himself, assuming it was a man, was right outside. She seemed to be following his instructions as she started to stroke and play with her body. Her breathing deepened as her arousal increased; she was standing so close to the glass and to me that she was almost daring me to speak and discover her. It seemed that the idea of being caught by me was almost part of her excitement. The caller must have given her directions because she left the room, and glided down the stairs into the front entry, and then she turned and went toward the kitchen instead of her customary frigging zone in the front room. I had gotten out of bed and was cautiously following behind her when I saw light from the refrigerator illuminate the dark room. After a moment, the door closed and the light disappeared, and soon after I watched the nude body of my wife move into the front room. She went to the couch and lay back on it like I had seen her do before and spread her legs widely. Then I saw what she had removed from the fridge, a large cucumber, probably 10 inches at least in length, and quite big around as well. Following more instructions, she held it between her legs and slid the tip of it up and down the gooey wetness between her fatly aroused pussy lips. I suppose like most men, I had fantasized about watching something like this before; always with some nameless vixen too aroused to wait any longer for a man to come and take her, or to care for her need, never had I imagined seeing my own wife in this scene. I had never thought until recently that I could watch openly, without being discovered, the live sexual performance of an excitable woman, but even after six years of marriage, I felt insecure about my abilities to seduce a woman and inspire this kind of sexual display. It was painful to wonder who it was that performed that role better than me, but my cock was rock hard even though I felt anger and jealousy directed at her partner in lust. I watched a she forced the large cold shaft of the cucumber into her sex. Deeper and deeper each succeeding stroke. As she fucked herself with the fat green monster I felt as though her fingers were wrapped around my own shaft pumping it towards climax, and I imagined the feeling of her warm wet sucking womb on my erect organ, drawing my sperm all the way from deep within my balls. I couldn't resist the impulse to slide my hand inside my pajama bottoms to feel my pulsing cock and I shot load after load of cum into the cloth while I watched her body tense and shake in violent orgasm. I was ashamed at my own arousal at a time when I was immersed in jealousy and righteous indignation over my wife's obvious emotional adultery, and knew I had to find out for sure exactly what was going on behind my back. If she was having an affair or being unfaithful, I felt I needed to have the damming evidence in my hand when I finally confronted her. It almost surprises me as I look back now, that I hadn't considered or even thought of divorce before then, even though I felt betrayed. I should have felt justified, but divorce was such a foreign consideration in any of the conversations we had had in our marriage and in direct conflict with the commitments we made and renewed along the way, that it just simply didn't occur to me then, that it could be an option. I went back to bed that night, and the next day life went on for us in the uncomfortable way it had come to be. I continued to search for evidence of faith or disloyalty everywhere I could. I searched computer files, personal planners, the laundry hamper and credit card transactions, and came up with nothing. It was right after the cell phone cucumber incident that Lynette was scheduled to go to Orlando for several days to help with a trade show. She seemed unusually excited by the trip as she made her preparations, and because she was in good spirits, life had been more pleasant all around. She was more sexually excited as well and we made love passionately several times during the days and nights before her departure. One morning she called me from Orlando near the end of her trip, and asked what I had called about the previous night. She apologized for not returning my call until the next morning before she gave me the opportunity to tell her that I hadn't called. It all made me wonder why she would have had to wait until the next morning to return a call anyway. Did she ignore the red message notification light on her phone all night, or had she been somewhere other than in her room? When I pressed her, she had a hard time finding a reasonable explanation. What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 02 All day long I was suspicious and my mind raced with possible scenarios of what might be happening. That night I called her room at about 9:00pm. There was a two hour delay in time zones so it would be 11:00 on her end; certainly the time she should be snuggled into her bed for a full night's rest. She answered after several rings, but seemed a little out of breath, as though she had to race to the phone. When she explained she was drying her hair off, that seemed reasonable, but then I could also hear other noise in the background, noises that made it sound like she wasn't alone. She explained that the TV was on, and that's what I could hear. The sounds included music so she could have been telling the truth, but when I asked her to turn it down, she ignored me. I could hear a male voice, and her ability to concentrate on our conversation was certainly being effected by something, or by someone. The rhythm of her speaking was broken like she was still drying her hair vigorously after too many minutes, then almost in desperation she said someone from room service of all people at that hour was at her door and that she would have to call me back later. I didn't want her to hang up, I thought something was going on and I wanted to find out more. I heard loud clatter of plastic objects colliding and then a thud...but the phone was not hung up. I could still hear sounds, voices, even wailing or possibly impassioned moaning. If the TV was on, then she was watching an adult pay per view porn movie. The sounds of sex were unmistakable, and my heart sank in a heap when I heard a distinct male voice announce that he was going to fuck her like she had never been fucked before. I had purchased a recording device to listen in on phone calls on our home phone several weeks earlier, when my suspicions had started driving me crazy, and I had prepared ahead of time that night by connecting it to the phone, just in case. I could hear a woman scream out in lust as she begged her man to put it all the way in. "God it feels so good, oh shit yes, fuck me you son of a bitch." She screamed in lust. "Does your husband's cock make you feel like this?" He asked. "Can he fill up your tight pussy with his cock, like I do Lynn?" There! He said her name, there's no way she could slough this off to a TV movie; coincidence was unacceptable. "No," she said too quickly, and too emphatically. "He doesn't come close, god I love your beautiful cock Brian. Please fuck me, fuck me to death with it you horny bastard." I don't know where my heart was, Lynette's words had ripped it out of me and I wasn't sure right then if I could ever get it back. I laid the handset of the phone onto our bed, and slowly stood, and walked out of our room numbly. Somehow, I ended up down the stairs and out the door without ever having moved my feet I thought. I stood outside in the brisk night air trying to come to grips with what I had witnessed by phone and for the first time the word divorce crossed my mind. It's funny, after spending so much time worrying over how we were going to get a family; I finally felt relief over all the things in our struggles that had been counted as failures only moments before. Sometime later I went back in and eventually ended up in the bedroom again. I noticed the phone still lying on the bed. About 45 minutes had passed since I laid it down, and I wondered if they had realized it had not been hung up on their end yet. I picked it up again and brought it to my ear "...at's it push it in my ass. Oh your sooooo big Brian, I didn't think I could take it that way." I heard Lynn say. "Your ass is even more gorgeous with my cock shoved up it baby." Brian's voice boomed. Then there was frenzied pounding as I listened to the frame of the bed beating against the hotel room wall. Along with the noise of inanimate objects colliding, there were the sounds of sexual gluttony from my wife and Brian. The rhythm of the noise increased in intensity and I heard both of them cursing loudly as they approached orgasm together. Lynn sounded desperate as she screamed at Brian to stop. "Don't cum in my ass." She said. "Don't cum yet! Put it back in my pussy and cum in me there. I feel so dirty when you do and I might finally get pregnant." I actually heard the sound of his slick cock popping out of her tight brown hole and then she squealed in glee as he fed it back into her ready cunt. "God Brian, how did you ever get such a beautiful cock? It fills me up so much, and you fuck me so good with it. Your wife must die for it." The frenzy increased again and soon Brian was grunting as he pumped my wife full of his adulterous cum. I could tell he was cumming because he was grunting in a strained voice every time he shot another stream. Finally emptied, he pulled out and ordered Lynn to turn around and get her mouth on his slimy shaft to clean it up. She didn't sound reluctant as she moaned in lust while she quickly gobbled him up. Here I had witnessed by telephone her enthusiasm at things I used to consider perverse. It didn't matter that I had had become curious about oral sex myself and had even tried to imagine what it would feel like. In this context, it repulsed me and only added to my anger and the sense of betrayal. I resolved right then and there to make sure the ugliness I felt inside somehow went away. I set the handset back on its base, and removed the taping device. I wasn't curious about all I had missed, I was sure it was just more of the same, and wasn't sure if I wanted to learn any more about Lynette's elevated opinion of Brian's assets, or her disparaging opinion about my own. Lynn called back the next morning and I was cold and terse enough in my conversation to make her ask if I was alright. "As good as possible, under the circumstances," I said, and when she asked what I meant, I told her that I was lonely and looking forward to her return. She said she missed me too, and that she would make it up to me when she got back that night. We hung up without a lot of warmth, and I spent the day talking to a few friends and trying to find a good divorce attorney. When she got home, she acted sweet and affectionate and I tried to pretend to be anxious to see her again. At bed time, we had plain sex for the first time in our marriage; before then we had made love. I felt angry pushing my cock into a cunt that had been occupied by someone else not that many hours before, and I got myself off without care or concern for her in any way. It was angry sex, and it frightened and confused Lynette, but it gave me partial release of the pent up emotion and rage that had built up and that I had stored inside. For the next several days things were icy again between us, until the end of the week and the day that had been marked on our calendar for her company picnic. I didn't want to go, and at fist Lynette seemed willing to not push the issue, then the night before the picnic she really put on a campaign to talk me into it. Picnic day was Saturday and I exaggerated how important it was for me to use the time to catch up on yard work that had built up. Lynn didn't let up all day, and I was getting more and more stubborn against going. Early in the day, her work associate Brian Reynolds had called to help convince me to go, and the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that this had to be the same Brian she had been with in Orlando. He insisted on picking us up so we could ride with him and his wife, and by the time he arrived I was terse, impatient and plain upset at the conspiracy to get me to go. Lynette insisted that I come in to get ready at about the same time Brian rang the front door bell. I got inside as she was showing him the front room and met the two of them in the entry. She introduced him again, I think I had met him before but really couldn't recall. The greeting I gave him was cool as I regarded him with suspicion and then Lynette urged me toward the bedroom upstairs as they moved into the dining area off the bottom of the stairs. I was trying to drag things along slowly and asked Lynn a question from the upstairs hallway. That's when I witnessed the sex play Brian had started as soon as I started up the stairs. When I saw the reflection of him in the curio mirror, fingering her pussy daringly to flaunt his sexual power over her I flipped. Operating on pure rage, I raced down the stairs and grabbed his shirt beneath his neck with one hand and his full head of hair with the other. I pulled him up and threw him back with such force he ended up in a heap on the other side of the room. I picked him up again and even though he was larger than me, he hardly touched the ground as I forced him back through the dining room, through the entry and threw them into the door frame so hard the wood splintered as it gave way and his body passed though the opening, off the porch and into the yard. His body lay motionless on the ground and I didn't care if he was alive or dead. I went to his van, found his registration an took it with me. By the time I got to my car in the garage, after I had assaulted and almost killed him, I had to sit for a moment to gather control before I went out and killed myself or someone else on the road. Even though my ego was wounded and I should have been feeling incredible pain, the anger that had built up from knowing too much and still not enough about my wife's infidelity dominated all of my emotion. When I felt I had at least minimal control over myself, I backed out and slowly drove down the road trying to twist the padded covering off of the steering wheel with my angry grip. I checked to see if the extra copy I made of the phone tape was still in the glove box; with the tape in hand I drove straight to the Reynolds home. Mrs. Reynolds name was Elizabeth and I wondered only briefly if I was doing the right thing as I waited at the door for her to answer. Liz was a nice looking woman about my age and only a little heavier than Lynette. She had a puzzled look on her face when I introduced myself and I apologized for having to deliver disturbing news. She gasped, thinking I was here to tell her that Brian had been in an accident, and then standing there on the porch I simply explained that her husband and my wife were having an affair. She stood silently, maybe in shock, and said nothing; then I placed the copy of the tape and one of my business cards in her hand and told her to call me if she had any questions. After I made my delivery, I drove into the foothills close by and parked as I listened to soft moody music from the car stereo. The music was romantic and melancholy and soon I was slipping into depression as I reviewed all of the good that I thought was coming to an end, things that had been important to me, and that were being thrown away carelessly by Lynette. I was still angry, but also hungry and tired by the time the sun set. I had never cleaned up from my work in the yard earlier, and I didn't like the idea of going somewhere to eat alone. Even at a fast food joint, I would feel conspicuous under the circumstances. I became angry as I realized Lynn's choices had taken away even the simplest pleasures from my own life, and eventually I grabbed a hamburger at a drive through and forced it unpleasantly down. When I got back to the house, it was dark, and I hoped Lynette had left. Her car was gone from the garage, and I breathed a sigh of relief that hid the regret and profound loneliness I felt. The phone rang and I answered without thinking. It was Lynette at the Fairfield Inn; as soon as she heard my voice she begged me to hear her out and give her a chance to explain Brian's reckless advance, as though this were the first time he had become aggressive like this. I didn't giver her a chance and hung up the phone, then I picked up the receiver again, listened for the dial tone, and disconnected the handset so I wouldn't be disturbed by the loud wailing tone of a phone off hook. On Sunday, I went to church alone and then found a shopping mall with a theater and went to a matinee. I stayed in the movie theater until 10:30 that night and sat through I don't know how many movies that I didn't watch, just to be alone in the dark. On Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday I went to work as usual and refused to take any calls from Lynette. On Thursday I talked to her only long enough to let her know that we would talk eventually, when I felt ready, and that was all. I had changed the locks on all the doors and wouldn't open up for anyone at all. I also put in a call to our joint credit cards and reported them all stolen and transferred funds from joint bank accounts to ones opened only in my name. Saturday morning at about 10:00 am, I was considering the yard work that needed to done even more when Lynette rang the front doorbell. I had already decided it was time to talk, and knew it was her. After making her wait for several minutes, so I knew she would be self conscious about being observed by neighbors I unlocked the door and went into the formal living room to wait. Lynn opened the door cautiously and slipped almost like a thief into the entry. She came into the room silently and sat quietly in a chair opposite form me. I looked past her into the yard until she found her voice and spoke. "What's going to happen Jerry," Is all she asked. "I'm not sure Lynette." I said. "It seems you're the only one who really knows all you've got going on, so it might be better to ask what you thought was going to happen." "I don't know how to explain what you saw Brian doing." Lynn said. She seemed to still be trying to make me believe that this was all that had ever happened. "Are you saying that this was the only time your work buddy got into your panties Lynette, or got you out of them?" Her flesh became pale as she twisted her fingers anxiously and averted her eyes from mine. "Jerry, I don't know what you know or believe I've done, and I don't know how to explain the mistakes I've made. The only thing I can tell you is that I'm sorry, I didn't mean for anything to happen. I got trapped by my own carelessness, but the last thing I ever wanted to happen was to hurt you." "Why don't you tell me what mistakes you made, and what has happened Lynn?" I said, actually trying to make sure I sounded calm, and honestly concerned. "Jerry," she said, trying to collect words to express the things she held deep inside. "Over the past several months, I have reacted poorly to the depression and discouragement I felt over not getting pregnant. I became selfish and slipped back into some old habits I had in college before we started dating. I don't know how to tell you this...I used to act badly in school, letting boys see me...well I tried to let boys see me partly undressed or naked. I used to take my clothes off in front of my open dorm window and let guys look at me naked. Lately I've been undressing in front of windows when I traveled or even in my car so people could see me. Brian saw me one day when I was on my way home, and things have gotten out of control as a result." "You're telling me that you're an exhibitionist Lynette. And that's all?" "I'm sorry Jerry." She said. "When you say it so...well so clinically, it almost seems less threatening, but more sick, like it's a mental illness. Maybe it is to a degree, but that's not the point. I've made some terrible mistakes but I didn't mean to hurt you and I'll never do anything to hurt you again if you only forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you." "Are you saying that it never went any further than having Brian's fingers in your pussy Lynette?" I said looking deep into her eyes for her version of the 'whole truth' and wondering why she wouldn't realize how critical it was to be completely truthful. "Oh Jerry, please, you must know how hard this is for me to admit this." Tears and been falling from her eyes and leaving wet track marks on her cheeks. "I would never do anything to betray the trust you have in me. I only want this terrible nightmare to end so I can come back home and we can put this all behind us." I reached over and pushed the play button on the tape recorder. I had plugged audio jacks into the surround sound and the familiar sounds and voices from the hotel phone filled the room. I watched as all the color drained from her skin and she trembled at the sounds and words that shattered the illusions she had tried to paint. I stood and left the room as her shaking sobs built to full fledged crying. Not long after, I heard the front door open and close, and she was gone. I felt anything but victorious, the only feeling that flooded over me was sorrow and pain for what was still being torn stubbornly from deep inside me. On Sunday, I was approached by one of the clergy of our church and asked to visit with representatives of the membership committee. The committee asked me point blank what was happening between me and my wife. I was elusive and suggested that the problems were known only by Lynn, and they would have to ask her. I understand that later that night, Lynette was summoned before a council and had apparently confessed all her transgressions. She still had not admitted to me all that she had done but apparently she had said enough that night to those in the council, that she was excommunicated from our church. A punishment handed out only for the most egregious transgressions. Excommunication in our church wasn't a form of vindictive authoritarian punishment, it was supposed to be part of a healing process that brought a person back to ground zero so to speak, and gave them a chance to start over from scratch, but in a close knit community like ours, where most of the neighbors belonged to the same church it also placed a bright spotlight on the guilty person, and anyone closely related to them that made all involved in any way feel self conscious of every whispered comment around them. It was hardest on Lynn, and I couldn't help being proud of the way she seemed to face up to her responsibility for what had happened even if she still hadn't admitted everything to me. I was actually concerned about her spirit and attitude, and in spite of the pain I had felt, I wanted to help and support her in this process. The next time she came to the house, she was somber and subdued like she was on Saturday, but humble and repentant as well. After we had exchanged formal pleasantries, she looked at me and said. "Jerry, I'm sorry you had to listen to the terrible things I said and did in that hotel room, and I can't justify it in any way. I don't expect you to forget or even let me make it up to you, but I would do anything to make things right again, and show you how much I still love you, even if you cant believe me." The flood of tears prevented her from saying more, and I was filled with compassion in spite of everything that had happened. After a long emotion filled pause I said, "Lynette, I think you should move back into the house...but it's not time for us to be together again, you can stay in the guest bedroom, or I will for that matter, then we'll see how things go on a day to day basis. I knew that when anyone was excommunicated from our church, the first real challenge didn't usually for several few days. Some people actually felt instant resentment and turned cold to everyone around immediately, but mostly a person felt humbled and contrite and easily made promises to themselves and everyone else involved; several days later when depression or embarrassment took over, a period followed when either the person found the strength to rise above the errors and their former self and became strong, or they surrendered to doubt and self abuse and became even more immersed in the quagmire of behavior and self abuse that led them to that point in the first place. Time would tell over the next few weeks what course Lynn would take. What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 02 --------------------------------------------------- Jerry had come to grips with his own needs, and with his willingness to make the hard decisions he knew he might have to make in order to go on with his life in a positive productive direction. He wasn't at all sure if he and Lynette would resolve the problems he felt she had brought into their lives, and at the same time, he had not firmly set his mind on going through with the divorce process he had already laid the ground work for. It all depended on Lynette initially. What she had done, and essentially who she had become was no longer acceptable to Jerry for his lifelong companion. She would have to change, change so deeply and fundamentally that she could never jeopardize their mutual happiness again. How on earth could she do that, furthermore if she did change, how on earth could she ever rebuild the trust she broke with Jerry? That might be just too much to ask for either of them. --------------------------------------------------- After Jerry told me I should move back in I felt hope for the first time since I had to face the terrible truth about what I had done to both our lives. When church leaders contacted me and told me to meet with them that Sunday evening, I was sure they already knew what I had done. Nothing could be any worse than what I had felt when I listened to my own voice and the sounds of sex on the recording Jerry had made of my lust crazed adultery with Brian Reynolds. I already felt lower, and more worthless than I had ever thought possible. As I sat in the presence of church leaders that were genuinely concerned about my well being as well as Jerry's, I tearfully confessed all that I had done. When they considered everything, the person I was, the commitments I had made and then violated, and everything that was needed to help me get beyond the negative self punishment I had already imposed on myself; it was understandable that they would see the need to excommunicate me from the church. Part of their objective in this formal separation was to help free me of the burden of starting a journey with dirty laundry and broken luggage. I would have to get beyond the negative influence of overwhelming guilt that I had already embraced. Ultimately I couldn't do that without forgiving my self and starting from 'ground zero'; I thought that would even be harder than getting Jerry to forgive me, but I was wrong. I didn't expect things to get back to anything normal at home for some time. Jerry offered me the master bedroom, but I declined and said I would be fine in the guest room instead. We ate evening meals, and occasionally watched a sitcom together. I felt incredibly uncomfortable when a situation came up in an episode that was sexually suggestive. That's not uncommon in today's sitcoms, and the discomfort brought the intensity of guilt roaring back to the surface. It was easier to just slip away and read by myself. The longer our relationship was strained, the more frustrating everything else in both our lives became as well. I'm afraid the incredible effort that was needed to rebuild communications was too hard for both of us, maybe that was because communications between us before all this happened wasn't really good anyway. Without constructive dialogue, neither of us got or gave the supportive encouragement that was needed to grow together. Eventually we seemed to slip into a dullness that masked the uncomfortable issues we couldn't resolve. In spite of the repulsion I had felt for a long time to sexual feelings and needs, the incredible impressions that are inseparable with sexual activity were still imbedded deeply in both of us, and they were being smothered and pressurized because we closed down the outlet. I confess that this was probably more a problem with me than Jerry. Not only was I at my natural peak for sexual interest, according to age, my most recent impressions had been blown out of proportion through the supercharger of infidelity. Face it, illicit sex seems much more powerful and consuming than romantic chaste copulation. The memories of intense forbidden lust were creeping into my head through the locks I had tried to set in place. Jerry's remote emotional self only added to frustration, guilt and unfulfilled need that had become a vicious self perpetuating circle. Somehow romance needed to come back into our life if we were to have any chance at all. The only positive benefit to all the travel that had been part of our problem in the first place was the frequent flyer mileage and connections I had made in the different cities I traveled to. Disney World had become an attractive venue for couples to celebrate anniversaries and spend romantic time together. In one of the hotels I had stayed, I met people who appreciated the business our company provided, and they offered me a free suite for four nights if I wanted. With miles to cover tickets and the warmth of a friendly invitation for the suite, it seemed like it might be a good idea to get away from everything for a few days where we could spend some quality time face to face. Jerry agreed and we made arrangements for the earliest opening. I was excited and even nervous, because I hoped intimacy might finally come back into the equation and change the direction of our drifting lives. Everything seemed to be going perfect until we arrived at the hotel. We both knew what was supposed to happen, and forced the issue of intimacy unnaturally. Feeling Jerry's cock in me again should have been the greatest thing in my life, but it was not. Jerry was distracted, edgy and uncomfortable, mostly he just wasn't there. I dismissed it to nerves and was happy at least for the effort. I tried again to get us back to romance, and the bedroom, and the more I did, the worse it made things. When I dressed in my sexiest lingerie to get him excited, he stiffened up in the wrong ways. The worst thing that went wrong was when I got bold. We had been playing around a little, petting on the bed when I made the mistake of trying to really turn him on. We were already naked, but his cock was still not fully responding. I was stroking his semi firm penis while we French kissed passionately. Then I started to nibble my way down his body, nipping at his skin and kissing it as I worked toward his cock. When I saw it jump a little, I thought I was on the right track and continued. I teased his pubic growth with my hot breath and ran my tongue along the length of his shaft. I kissed the purple head allowing it partly into my mouth as I made love to his beautiful organ. I had never thought Brian's cock was superior or that Jerry's was not. Brian was simply interested, he showed his need and passion and he demonstrated his enthusiasm for sex and interest in my body. It was the attitude that had captured my lusty imagination. All I wanted to do now was show the same kind of interest and enthusiasm for Jerry's beautiful and very equal cock. When I took his member into my mouth, I wanted to possess it and him with me, my whole heart and all of my lusty emotion, and there was nothing on this earth I wanted any more. As I loved him I felt him come alive in my mouth and as he did, I came more alive as well. My passion quickly soared and I was seriously overcome with the need to give everything I could to this man who was still the love of my life in spite of the walls of hurt that were marshaled between us. I wasn't an expert at oral sex, but I thought I felt in sync with his need and capable of bringing us both to orgasm. I was driven to anticipate every dream and expectation he could possess and thought his climax would coincide with my own. All of a sudden the hands that had held the sides of my head gently as he urged me on grabbed my hair and pulled me off of his inflamed rod with such ferocity I thought he would tear out two large handfuls of hair in his hands. He literally threw me off of him and I crashed to the floor off the edge of the coffee table and ended up against the couch. I was stunned and hurt, more than that, I was confused. What in the hell was happening. My back and hip would be bruised, and blood was on my fingertips as I rubbed the sore roots to soothe the pain. I struggled to my feet, feeling pain in several areas already and looked at Jerry as I begged for some explanation of what terrible mistake I had made. Jerry said nothing; he went into the bathroom and stayed there for fifteen minutes; I thought it best to get back into my clothes. When he finally came back, he quickly dressed and quietly told me that we needed to go to dinner. I was afraid to ask what happened again, until later on, and when I did he apologized and simply said he didn't know what came over him. He promised me it would never happen again; I wasn't sure that response offered much help. It was obvious that something had happened in that intimacy that disturbed him allot. I remembered his reaction to my questions about oral sex early in our marriage and wondered if this incident was an indication that my promiscuity had brought us to a point of sexual incompatibility. I was disturbed over a new feeling of inadequacy and hopelessness. I felt totally insecure about my ability to sexually inspire and excite Jerry. If sexual intimacy was no longer a possible key to our emotional closeness, I had serious doubts about our ability to understand and respond to one another in any way. I realized we might not be able to become an understanding and caring couple again, let alone build a relationship that would provide intimacy and sexual excitement. After having felt such intensity in sex while cheating on my husband I faced the terrible possibility that I would never experience sexual excitement again. Throughout the remainder of that night and most of the next day the tension between us built to painful, almost unbearable levels. Just before dinner, Jerry admitted that it was a mistake to go to Orlando. Everywhere we had gone, everything I had done caused him to imagine me doing those things with Brian. This was the city we were in during the infamous recorded call. Jerry couldn't stop himself from seeing Brian's hand in everything that we were doing together. He became upset during my efforts in oral sex, because he couldn't get the image of me sucking on Brian's cock out of his head. The more I tried to reason with him the more unreasonable he and everything else became. We were both hurt and angry and I was completely without a clue about how to deal with us. We both became even angrier early that evening, and I finally left to get away and clear my head so I could think. I went to the lobby and found it hard to keep from breaking into tears at any thought or feeling that took me back to the problems upstairs. As I walked around not anxious to go back to the room I think I drew attention to myself. A nice looking man, maybe a little younger than me, approached and introduced himself. At first I thought he was just being nice and thoughtful, and I needed a friendly ear to listen, or an arm to lean on. He offered to buy me a drink and when I realized he was just hitting on me, the water works started up and he quickly apologized for his insincerity, and helped me find an inconspicuous seat. He was nicer than I realized after all and apologized again for being rude and assuming the worst in me. His name was Russell Marcum and he was from Memphis on business for a few days; he thought I was trying to get picked up from the way I was hanging around lobby. When he asked why I was so upset, I sniffed back emotions and told him briefly about the misunderstanding between me and Jerry. I don't know why, but all of a sudden I was telling him about all our troubles and even went into some of the details of our unsuccessful sex during the trip. It felt good to expose myself emotionally to this stranger, and I even found myself strangely excited when I told him about the rebuffed oral sex. Russ said he was amazed that any man could refuse someone as sexy as me anything. It had been so long since anyone had suggested I was sexy that the words made me tingle. I felt my pussy getting wet and leaking into the tiny crotch of the sexy panties I had worn for Jerry. When he asked me in whispered tones if my panties were wet, I just looked at him with eyes glassed over and slowly nodded. Russell placed his warm hand on my thigh, just above my knee and pushed gently outward, asking me to open my legs for him. I relaxed my muscle and let him ease my thighs apart. He continued to push until I was sure he could plainly see the red lace panties that barely covered me. As he looked hypnotically into my eyes he started to slide his hand ever so slow and sensually under my skirt and up my trembling thigh. I wanted his fingers to move my panties aside and fuck me right there in the hotel lobby so much I almost cried with pent up lust and desire. He was only a fraction of an inch away from my tender arousal, when I blinked to consciousness and grabbed his arm to stop his ready fingers. He held firm and wouldn't let me push him away at first, and then he proceed against my resistance. When his finger brushed along my oozing slit I lost my breath and my nipples felt as though they would explode. He could feel how totally wet I was and knew that my pussy wanted him badly, but I mustered all my strength and the determination I showed made him back finally away. I felt relieved, but it was a frustrating and painful victory. "I have to go." I said. "I need to find my husband." "The only thing you need is this Lynette." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled it to his aroused penis. I could feel its firm length and girth through his slacks and he forced my fingers around it so I would know how large, capable and excited it was to be buried in me. I was still fighting my own need and subconsciously moved my thighs open and closed in lust. I forced myself to release my hold on his wonderful organ and said again that I had to go. Just as he started to protest, a hand appeared firmly on his shoulder and gripped tightly on the thick cord that runs from shoulder to neck. As the hand pinched the cord Russell let go and moved in defense. "I believe she said she had to go." Jerry said to Russ as he looked coldly into my eyes. Jerry took my hand, stood me up and marched me out of the hotel to the courtyard. "What the hell is going on Lynette?" He asked. You were almost ready to fuck that guy right there in the lobby." "I was trying to get away." I said truthfully. "I told him I had to find my husband Jerry." I was trying to get back to you." "Eventually," he said with sarcasm. "Shit Lynn, he almost had your panties off before you chickened out. I guess I was right all along about all of the things I've felt since coming here. You're a slut Lynette." He hissed. "And nothing's ever going to change that. I should have known things would never work out between us after you sucked Brian's slimy prick. I'll see you back home, and we'll settle up." Then he was gone. I watched Jerry walk back into the lobby and approach the concierge. Together they walked out the entrance and the Bell Boy loaded Jerry's bags into a taxi's trunk while my husband got in the cab and left me. Jerry had already made up his mind and packed before he came downstairs and found me with Russell. Our marriage was over, and I was left on my own. I wasn't in the mood to be fucked by anyone anymore, I just wanted to leave this city as well, but I couldn't bear the thought of feeling humiliated on the same flight as Jerry, so I asked the hotel to arrange my departure on the earliest flight possible the next day and went back to 'our' room to try and sleep. Jerry and I met at the house and he had already prepared an asset sheet so we could divide our lives. I ended up with the house, and furnishings, but I had the mortgage as well. We didn't have a lot of capital assets to fight over, but then neither of us was in a fighting mood anyway. Jerry had the divorce papers with him, I smiled a little when I noticed they were dated a month before. I wasn't really surprised. When Jerry left, I had given him everything he wanted in the divorce, including the last shreds of my self esteem. As more time passed, I became deeply depressed again. Jerry had called me a slut, and I knew that I was. I was also becoming more cynical and suspicious of everything around me. It's almost amusing as I look back now, because it ended up that the only real regret of the failed Orlando reconciliation was the fact that I didn't let Russell fuck the shit out of there in the hotel lobby for everyone to see. On the day the final divorce decree was served, I went off the deep end. I went to a trendy hotel, near the international airport, that had a popular lounge, and although I didn't drink, I went in and took a conspicuous seat at the bar. When the bartender asked what I wanted, I tried to act cool, and said, "Surprise me." I have no idea what drink he brought, and I only sipped at it cautiously to acquaint myself with the taste. My real objective had nothing to do with liquor, I was going to get fucked silly, and consequences be damned. I already had a full helping of consequence; now I was ready for a giant helping of cause. I scanned the lounge for possibilities and then when it became obvious I was still a little early, I decided to sit at a remote table and wait for the meat to show. Not long after, men started to arrive in small groups with occasional singles thrown in for spice. There was a small dance floor, and a few people were already using it. I had dressed sexy so it didn't take long before interested men started to ask me to dance. On the dance floor I threw my self at the men like I was a slut and several thought I was already drunk on alcohol. Two younger men in their early to mid 20s came in together, and started to pay attention. We started to dance and seemed to forget all the others as we played sexy games on and off the floor. Andy was a fresh looking blond with a tapered lean and chiseled body; he looked like the typical California surfer, and was full of mischievous energy. Marc or Marcus was about 6'-4" and looked like a professional basketball player. His body was firm, well muscled, and forbidden, he was black as coal. Both of them reminded me of everything girls were afraid to touch but dying to intimately feel. Both of them were sexually dangerous, and just what I wanted. It didn't take long before they started working on me to get me to go with them to one of their rooms. I teased and played along as we rubbed against each other suggestively; dry fucking on the dance floor. "C'mon Lynn," Andy said. 'You know you're ready to ride this pole." He had brought my hand to his package and I had already been fondling it to a full hard-on for five minutes. They both had played with my full firm ass cheeks and had slipped their fingers beneath my panties to feel my wetness. I pulled his upper body down as I stood on my tiptoes and brought my mouth to his ear. "Before we go to your room, I want you to take my panties off while we're dancing so you can give them to Marcus." When I moved back, he held me at arms length for a moment as he studied my face to see if I was pulling his leg. I looked at him lustily and ran my tongue over my full painted lips to let him know I was absolutely serious. Andy pulled me into a passionate embrace and immediately slipped his hands under the short hem of my sexy skirt and slid them up to maul my ass. Then he took hold of my lace panties by the waist and pushed them down until they fell loosely to my feet. I reached up with both arms and wrapped them tightly around his neck so my skirt was pulled up almost high enough to show my naked rear, and continued to dance with my lace panties dangling around my feet. When the music stopped, he knelt down and acted like the prince with the glass slipper as he picked up one foot and then the other so he could finish slipping my panties all the way off.