23 comments/ 24649 views/ 17 favorites A Moral Dilemma By: amischiefmaker Ashley and I, Brett Pierson, first met in third grade. For some reason we were always friends, even though we were quite different and usually hung out with different crowds. I was more of an introvert – although I consider myself an ambivert – while she definitely is an extrovert. Both of us are decent looking although we'd never make it as one of the "beautiful people," and we have average builds. Although Ashley and I went to the same elementary school, same High School, same college, and same graduate school, and are the same age, and got jobs less than a mile apart in the same city after we completed our graduate studies, we only went out on two real dates – once in High School, and once in college. We only kissed romantically three times (yes I counted). Although we always enjoyed each other's company and had good times on our two dates, either because we didn't want to ruin our friendship, or because there just didn't appear to be any real flair or chemistry, neither of us pursued a true romantic relationship. It seemed that we enjoyed it more when we were in groups, or doing non-romantic things together. Since we've known each other since we were eight years old, we know a lot about each other, and have confided things over the years that we would never tell anyone else. We often were sounding boards for each other, especially when it came to issues with the opposite sex. Also, we really did have each other's backs. There were literally dozens of times that she helped me out when I needed it, and I reciprocated, including, but not limited to, advising what others were saying about us, and pitching in on yardwork or house work when overwhelmed. Each of us also did one thing that "wasn't entirely legal" for the other person. It became natural to help each other and when we had a problem we turned to each other first, before our parents, siblings, or other friends. Whenever Ashley and I met in person or talked on the phone it was like a beam of sunshine hit on a cloudy day. I used that analogy once to her, and she wholeheartedly agreed. We often called each other "sunshine." I was probably the only person on earth who actually knew Ashley's biggest secret (although others suspected). When she was a senior in college she had an affair with a young (only two years older than us) married visiting assistant professor from France by the name of Jacque. I think that she would have married him if he was willing to divorce his wife, but he wasn't. Anyway, at the start of graduate school she met Martin and they quickly became serious. Since I was Ashley's best male friend, I was one of the groomsmen at the Ashley-Martin nuptials shortly after we finished graduate school. Not too long after that, I met my wife Janet, and we got married two years after Ashley and Martin did, and it was Ashley who threw me my bachelor party and was the only female participant. Ashley normally didn't drink much, but the night of my bachelor party made an exception, likely in an attempt to get me drunk and to "loosen up," the only consistent complaint Ashley had about me in all of the years that I knew her. The few times that I did drink I had an extraordinarily high tolerance for booze, and never got drunk. Therefore Ashley got herself three sheets to the wind while I was still sober. When Martin – who was also there – was playing pool at one of the bars we bar-hopped to she pulled me aside and confided something to me that I don't think that she ever would have if she were sober. She was still periodically fucking Jacque. Removing her slurred and sometimes unintelligible words, our conversation went something like this: "How's that?" I asked. "Well he quit academia and now is an international businessman. The first time he came to the U. S. on business he looked me up. I didn't want to fuck him, but he does it so well I couldn't help myself. He's come to the U S on business three times since then, and each time I've visited the city he has business in and we fucked for two or three nights." "Does Martin know?" "Hell no! He wouldn't take kindly to that." "How are you able to get away?" "I lie – I don't want to do it, but I want to fuck Jacque more than I don't want to lie to Martin." "You're living dangerously, aren't you Ashley?" "Maybe, Brett – but we only live once." "Why are you telling me this?" She got a big grin on her face – in fact she was grinning the entire time she was talking to me, obviously excited about her affair, but the grin got bigger. "I needed someone to confide in because no one else knows, and it's more fun to have someone know your secret than to keep it to yourself, and you're my longest standing friend so..." At that point, the booze really caught up with her. She rolled her eyes, and I caught her as she collapsed. Martin and I carried her to their car and he took her home. Fortunately, the bachelor party was two days before the wedding, not just the day before, otherwise I doubt that Ashley would have made it. At the wedding she looked great, though, was her normal happy extroverted self, and didn't touch an ounce of booze at the reception. While Ashely had apparently shrugged off not just her affair, but that she told me, it had a profound effect on me. It really bothered me. While I had always accepted Ashley as who she was and never judged her, and while she had done dozens of between nice and wonderful things for me over the previous almost twenty years that I had known her, I was definitely not a fan of cheaters. ***************** Over the next two years I was busy with my profession and establishing and persevering in a loving relationship with my wife Janet, so that even though I saw Ashley at least once a month, and more often three or four times, and we talked on the phone weekly, her affair drifted into the back of my mind and I never confronted my feelings about it. She had never brought it up again after the time she was drunk, although I was certain that she was seeing Jacque when at the last minute she canceled on a party Janet and I were hosting to take a "business" trip – on the weekend – out of town. Perhaps one reason why I never confronted myself – let alone Ashley – about her affair was because I never warmed up to Martin. He was too arrogant for me, and in my humble opinion – I hope that I wasn't being too judgmental just because Ashley was my friend – he didn't treat Ashley well. Even though Martin was not someone I liked, he was a smart detail-oriented guy; he had some sort of financial job. Inevitably, I'm sure that he found out about Jacque – or at least became suspicious enough to confront Ashley about it. It was a shock to some of our friends when Martin and Ashley filed for divorce. She just cited "irreconcilable differences" in her comments to everyone else – though not to me. One Saturday when Janet was visiting her mother, Ashley invited me to a baseball game, and afterward we went to a park and she bared her soul. "Martin confronted me with suspicions that I was having an affair. He suspected that it was with the same guy as in college – I guess one of my so-called college friends told him about her suspicions. I denied it, but when I did I realized that the love I had had for Martin had almost evaporated, and that fucking Jacque six or seven days a year was more important to me than staying married to Martin. Divorce looked good to me. Does that make me fucked-up, Brett?" "Ashley, you know that I've never judged you. What I do know is that regardless of whether anyone thinks that you're fucked up, you have to do what you have to do. I consider your relationship with Jacque something that is likely to cause you great pain in the future, and I certainly don't approve of it, but it's not for me to say whether or not it means that you're fucked-up." "But what you're saying, sunshine, is that you'd never have an affair?" Ashley asked with uncharacteristic meekness. "That's one thing that I'm saying. However, like I said, I'm not judging you. I don't like it, but I love you as a friend and – like always – will stick by you." We talked a little more, she eventually got a rueful smile on her face, and we concluded our serious talk with "You always will stick by me – you have since third grade – won't you?" "You bet sunshine!" I replied with a happy smile. She gave me a friendly peck on the lips then we went to a country-western restaurant that had dancing. Even though we both had no country-western rhythm, we ended up having a good time doing the Texas two-step and the schottische, the latter a dance that I had never heard of before let alone done. By the end of the evening we were both perspiring and laughing our asses off. Ashley needed a little propping up during her divorce proceedings and afterward, but fortunately things had not been too acrimonious so – with the help of yours truly, Janet, and some of her other female friends – she came out of it just fine. ***************** Ashley's personality did not allow her to be without male companionship for too long, however. It was only six months after her divorce was final that she started seriously dating Peter – a guy that she met at a singles event. Peter was much different than Martin. Peter was a humble yet confident, gregarious guy. He was a runner, like I was, and shared with me a keen interest in tennis and volleyball, sports that neither of us were particularly good in, but really enjoyed playing and watching. I hosted Peter's bachelor party after Ashley accepted his marriage proposal. Since it was the second for each (Peter's first wife had died in a car crash) they got married within two weeks of when Peter popped the question in a small simple civil ceremony, although at the reception there were at least seventy five people. I was Ashley's witness at the wedding, Peter's sister his. There was – to me – one disturbing aspect of the Peter-Ashley nuptials. Ashley made an impromptu out-of-town two night trip in the two weeks between the proposal and the ceremony. By the fact that she didn't look me in the eye when she told me about the trip I knew what it was for – Jacque was back in the country. That upset me a great deal. Peter and Ashley seemed to be happily married so I put her affair with Jacque in the back of my mind. However, over the ensuing three years some things started happening that occasionally brought it to the forefront, even though my very friendly relationship with Ashley never changed. –I became pretty friends with Peter. We had some enjoyable outings together sans wives. –Ashley and I started seeing more of each other, and talking more often on the phone, than we had at almost any time in our lives after we had completed our schooling. It was rare when I didn't get a half dozen texts and a phone call from Ashley every day, and we met for lunch, or for an outing, with or without spouses, at least once a week. Also we both joined the same health club – Peter and Janet were members of another club closer to where they worked – and we worked out at the same time two or three times a week. Ashley beamed even more than previously whenever we met and constantly solicited my good-will although that certainly wasn't necessary in view of our "best friend" status. We called each other "sunshine" at least once per meeting. –Both Janet and Peter, individually and many months apart, asked me – almost out of the blue – whether if I knew that someone I knew was cheating on their spouse if I would say anything about it. After the initial shock in both cases – which I hopefully hid, although I'm not sure that I'm that good of an actor – I asked a lot of questions in return and concluded it by saying "Wow; that's a tough question. It would really depend greatly on the particulars. Who the parties were, what relationship I had with them, whether the affair was serious or a one night stand, whether the cheater had any remorse, lots of things. Why do you ask? Are you in that situation now?" Both Peter and Janet replied that it was a hypothetical that another friend had asked them, and not an actual situation; I didn't know whether or not to believe that. –Ashley made comments at one dinner with just she, me, Peter, and Janet, that either required me to cover for her – make believe that she was somewhere else when I was virtually positive that she was with Jacque – or expose her. I covered for her, but did not like being put in that situation one bit. –After the situation in the previous paragraph, and after I had helped Ashley out with a personal problem not involving cheating, I took her to lunch and made it clear that I did not like having to cover for her, especially since I was fond of Peter and had never liked Jacque. In the lunch meeting mentioned in the previous paragraph, Ashley started crying. In all the years that I had known her I only saw her cry once before. She calmed down enough for us to exit the restaurant without a scene, but then started sobbing on the sidewalk. I hustled her to a public park about a block and a half away and sat her down on a bench. While she was hard to understand, I got the gist of what she was saying, which went something like this (sobs and inaudible words removed for clarity): "I'm sorry that I put you in an uncomfortable position, Brett. Right now I'm going through the most difficult period of my life. I'm all fucked up." "What's the matter, Ashley?" "My outlooks on many things are changing. Things that I always thought I'm questioning; relationships that I have are changing; I have a couple of secrets preying on my mind; work that I used to enjoy I no longer do, and things I didn't enjoy I now do. In general, I feel completely fucked up." "Is there something that I can do to help?" "Yes, but it's too much to ask even of you, my best friend for the last twenty two years." "Not quite," I smiled trying to lighten the mood somewhat. "It will be twenty two just about the time that you turn thirty three months from today. Now what could possibly be too much for you to ask me to help with?" "Brett – I'm not going to fuck up your life like mine is being fucked up just because my brain is changing. I promise that I won't put you in any situation where you have to cover for me again." With that – and before I could stop her or question her further – she wiped away her tears, gave me a quick peck on the lips, and took off like a bat out of hell. Talk about confused? So that left me to struggle with my moral dilemma. Should I tell Peter about Jacque? If I did should I warn Ashley first? Would Peter and Ashley be able to overcome it and ultimately have an even stronger marriage? Would they immediately divorce, such as happened with Martin and Ashley even though Martin didn't have actual knowledge of her affair, just suspicion? Would it destroy my relationship with my closest friend of almost twenty two years? I had no one to talk with about this issue. While Janet and I shared a lot, this was something way too personal and transcended my relationship with Janet. So in the modern world, what does one do? What I did was – anonymously – get on the Internet in chat rooms, web sites, even Twitter, and propounded my question after giving bare bones information so that none of the real parties could ever be identified. What I got was either unhelpful, insulting, or garbage. Those responses that were at least somewhat thoughtful were split almost evenly between a) tell Peter immediately, b) tell Peter after warning Ashley and urging her to confess, c) say nothing, and d) break up my friendship with Ashley. The latter, option d), was NOT going to happen because she was an important part of my life, but there was no help about which of the other three was the best course of action. I was more confused than ever. Inertia meant that I let things shuffle along until just before Ashley's birthday. Peter had been planning a surprise party for Ashley and several months earlier had asked if I would mind if he could get Janet's perspective on things. Why he bothered to ask me, I don't know, and of course I said yes. He and Janet got together often to make plans. But then guilt started to eat at me; he was planning this party for Ashley totally clueless about Jacque. I decided that I had to act, and I chose option b). On a beautiful day Ashley and I went for a walk in the park and had a simple picnic lunch. She was warm and fuzzy, more so than I'd ever seen her, truly the epitome of "sunshine." After eating I swallowed hard then started my painful talk. "Ashley; there's something I need to do, that I need to warn you about." "What, Brett?" she asked with an expectant look. "Well, you know that I've kept your secret about Jacque, and haven't told Peter; but I'm having pangs of guilt about that. I...I've come to be friendly with Peter, much more so than with Martin, and I need to tell him. I...I hope that you will first, so that I can avoid it...and I hope that it doesn't break up your marriage, but the guilt is eating away at me." To my surprise Ashley didn't have a hissy fit, start crying, get angry, try to change my mind, or react in any other way that I thought that she might. She smiled. "Wh...wh...why are you smiling?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Because you've just given me the opening for straightening out my fucked-up life." "How's that?" "Remember that day that I started crying in the restaurant and we came to this same park – the bench just over there," she said, pointing to a secluded bench about thirty meters away. "Yeah..." I hesitantly responded. "Remember that I told you that my outlooks on many things had changed, and particularly relationships that I had, and that I felt completely fucked up?" "Yeah – I do. How is that relevant?" "Well...I see no option but to hit you with it. You have many, many good qualities, but you are about the least perceptive guy I've ever met." Her smile faded and she took a deep breath, and then blurted out "Peter and Janet are having an affair, I broke it off with Jacque for good months ago, and my friendship with you has morphed into a powerful, romantic, love." Any one of those three things, especially the first and the last, could have shell-shocked me. Being hit with all three at once was like being bombed by a squadron of B-52s. After a pause that had to have lasted five minutes, with Ashley making intense eye contact with me the entire time, I had a brilliant reply. "What?" "I know that you heard me, Brett, because you almost fried your circuits. Which of the three do you want to discuss first?" "Uh...OK...let's do the easiest one? You broke it off with Jacque?" "Yeah; I realized a good four or five months ago that I was starting to look at things differently. I realized that I was, in fact, NOT in love with Jacque, but had always just been fascinated by him. I realized that he wasn't my soul mate like I had deluded myself – that someone else was. The last time I saw him I wouldn't have sex with him even though he said – for the first time – that he'd divorce his wife to be with me. I told him 'no thanks' and haven't returned one communication from him since, and won't." "OK..." was my brilliant reply. "Let's talk about number three, now, shall we?" Ashley said. She scooted over from where she was kneeling and sat right next to me on the blanket that we had spread out on the lawn. She stroked the side of my face and then gave me the fourth romantic kiss that we'd ever shared in our life. "Over the course of the last six months I've come to realize that I love you, Brett. Not just like a friend like we've maintained over the last twenty two years, but real, true, romantic love. Maybe I always had it under the surface. I do know that without exception I always felt great when I was around you, and that has not been the case with anyone else including Jacque, Martin and Peter. You are the sunshine of my life." A Moral Dilemma Staring into my eyes she initiated the fifth romantic kiss of our lives. Then she conspicuously looked down at my crotch and smiled. "Why Brett Pierson I do believe that at least part of you feels the same away about me as I do about you." I could not deny that my cock was almost bursting my zipper. I was still dumbfounded, but Ashley was on a roll. "As for number one, Peter and Janet having an affair, they haven't been planning a birthday party for me; they may pull a poor one off just to cover their tracks; but they've been fucking. I've wanted to tell you since I found out more than three months ago, but I never could work up the courage to do that, or tell you that I'm in love with you, because I didn't want to take the chance of destroying my relationship with you. Now that I've laid it all out, there's no turning back, and I'm 'going for the gold!'" My circuits were still fried. There was so much more that I had to know, however, and so much more than I needed to do – not the least of which was to completely re-examine my relationship with Ashley. I was, at that time, however, a rudderless boat. Fortunately, Ashley was not. She took charge. "Tell you what, Brett," she said snuggling up to me even more and stroking her hand over my erection while nibbling at my neck and cheek. "You re-examine your feelings for me. If you feel even half of what I do, then we confront Peter and Janet when they have their next meeting 'about the surprise party,' and then jettison them." With that she planted the sixth romantic kiss of our lives on my lips, one that touched my soul, while stroking my cock through my pants. I instinctively started squeezing one of her tits. When she broke our kiss she smiled and rhetorically asked "Does that sound like a plan?" "Uh...yeah...I can't think of a better one," I stammered. She hopped up, pulled me up, gave me a quick kiss and said "Don't take too long to decide what your feelings toward me are – go with instinct! Janet and Peter are meeting on Friday, two days from now, and I hope that you can decide by then." With that she scurried off, although I don't think that I was imagining that she was shaking her ass as she did, leaving me to cleanup from our picnic. It was unfortunate that I had to get a considerable amount of work done that afternoon. I wanted to go home and spank the monkey thinking about Ashley – but there simply was too much to do. I exercised the best self-control of my life when I was able to put Ashley, Janet, Peter, and Jacque, out of my mind until I was finished with the project that I was working on at five after six p. m. I called Janet to see if she wanted me to pick up something for dinner on my way home. "Sure, Brett – that would be great. How about some Chinese?" she eagerly responded. On the way home I tried to sort out the Janet-Peter situation. I didn't yet believe it despite how certain Ashley sounded. I would need some sort of proof. I also examined my relationship with Janet – and after thinking about it for about fifteen minutes came to a horrible conclusion. Our relationship was "comfortable." That was damning by faint praise if I ever heard it. How did I not realize that "comfort" snuck up on us? Maybe some people strive for "comfort," but in my self-image I was definitely not one of them. I wanted passion, not comfort. While we had a comfortable chat, sitting at our comfortable kitchen table while eating comfort food, I looked for any "tells" of the affair on Janet's part. I didn't see any. Then again, as Ashley had correctly noted, I was one of the least perceptive people in the world. I'm a terrible poker player; I've mis-bet two straight flushes, and can never figure out if someone is bluffing. By the time that Janet and I had – comfortably snuggling – watched almost an hour of T V after dinner I decided that if she was cheating with Peter, this may be the last chance for some real sexual fireworks, because I would not stay with her if she was an adulteress. Therefore I "ruined" her comfortable evening by first gently, and then aggressively, caressing, then stroking, then fondling, and then pawing at her right in the living room. She kept on giggling "What's gotten into you?" and putting up token resistance. When I had taken off her outer clothes and then literally ripped her panties off with my teeth I could tell that "shocked" would be a totally understated word to describe her. Janet removed her own bra – I think that she was afraid that I'd rip that off too. I ate her with a passion bordering on ferocity until she had a screaming orgasm right on the living room rug and almost pulled my hair she was holding onto it so tightly, and almost popped my head like a pimple squeezing it between her thighs. While she was still in the throes of her orgasm I turned her on her hands and knees and buried my impossibly hard cock into her pussy with one thrust, evincing a low guttural sound from her, and a loud grunt from me. Novel to our love-making, I reamed her asshole with two fingers on one hand, pinched a butt cheek with the other hand, and thrashed her with a savagery I'd never exhibited before. Our orgasms were quick to overwhelm us, and afterword we lay on our sides on the rug like a couple of limp socks, my dick still in her cunt, At some point we recovered. Instead of heading to the shower I carried her to our bedroom. However, we didn't get into bed. I bent her over a padded chair in our bedroom and fucked the shit out of her for the second time that night. This time she actually shuddered when she orgasmed. By then we were too wiped out to do anything else and just collapsed in bed, lucky to have enough energy to pull the covers over us. I went to sleep quickly spooning Janet, but woke up in the middle of the night with a start – something that I almost never do. I was thinking only about Ashley. "Have I really loved her since we were kids and never even realized it?" "How could she have such a strong metamorphosis when almost thirty?" "How is it possible that Janet and Peter are fucking – I've had zero clues?" In general I wondered "Will anything ever be the same after my talk with Ashley last afternoon?" As I lay awake a vision flew into my brain of Ashley kissing me at the park so deeply that it touched my soul. My cock instantly got hard again; when I turned to look at Janet and realized that I didn't want to fuck her again – that I wanted to fuck Ashley – I knew what to do. I fell back to sleep. I met Ashley for lunch again the next day. "I've made a decision, Ashley." She looked at me expectantly with her hands folded, but didn't say anything. "If you can demonstrate to me that Peter and Janet are having a sexual affair then I'm leaving her; and if you're willing I'd like to try to turn our present loving relationship into a romantic loving one." For only the third time in the twenty two years that I had known her, Ashley started crying. She buried her head in my chest. I stroked her hair. After about a minute or so she raised her head and smiled. "You won't be sorry," was her resolute statement. She wiped her tears, opened up her purse, and took out a five by seven inch brown envelope with metal clasp. She opened the clasp, looked around to see that there was no one nearby, and then pulled out five four by six inch color photos. I just looked at the first three. My reaction was very strange – it was a combination of sadness, melancholy, disgust, anger, and – joy! I put the photos back in the envelope, closed the clasp, and handed it back to Ashley. "Keep it," she said, gently pushing the envelope back toward me. "In case you need them; I have other copies." "What's the plan now?" I asked. "They're meeting again tomorrow afternoon since I'm supposedly out of town. We'll confront them in the act and then tell them what we want." "What do we want?" I inquired with a sly chuckle. With a diabolical grin she replied "We want quick divorces – and then to try each other out. We already know that we're compatible in life – now we need to see if we are for sex, which I have every expectation that we will be." Then her demeanor changed and she looked back and forth between her shoes and my eyes. "Then, you need to decide if we can have a long standing relationship with me since – since – since I've been a cheater in the past. What I want is a chance to demonstrate that I'll never cheat on you." I smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "When and where do we meet tomorrow afternoon?" I asked. "The convenience store at the corner of Pine and Sixth a block from my condo at 3:00 p. m." ***************** At 3:05 while I was waiting at the convenience story, Ashley hurried up to me. "They just went into the condo. Let's go." "Exactly what are we going to do?" I asked as she held my hand, tugging me along. "Just leave it to me; just frown, smile, or cry, where appropriate," she replied, starting to move faster. Since I had no fucking clue exactly what to do, that was fine by me. We quietly entered the condo, went up to the guestroom, and found Peter and Janet naked and starting foreplay. Janet was giggling, Peter chuckling. Ashley gave me a director's chair and picked up one of her own, obviously placed there for just this occasion, and we entered the master bedroom with the chairs, opened them up, and sat down right near the mattress. To say that Peter and Janet were shocked would be the understatement of the year. "Don't mind us," Ashley sarcastically smirked with her arms folded. "We'll wait until you're done to have a little chat." Peter's dick had completely deflated and he put a pillow over it, and Janet pulled a sheet over her naked torso and started whimpering. "Uh...well..." Peter started to say as his face turned red with embarrassment. "Don't insult us with any bullshit excuses," Ashley barked, throwing copies of the color photos that she had shown me onto the mattress. "I know that you two have been fucking for three months. I only told Brett yesterday for many reasons which are now in the past." Ashley got on a roll. "Now Peter, even though you're a complete asshole for fucking Brett's wife, I can't be entirely disgusted with you because until six months ago I had a periodic affair with a guy I knew from college over the entire course of our marriage. You never met him, or knew him, or his wife, so I consider my sin less than yours – but still it means I can't be entirely disgusted with you." Then a pale of evil fell over Ashley's face. "You, Janet, on the other hand, have been unfaithful to the most faithful person I've ever known. You fucked one of his friends behind his back just because you could. How in the hell could you do that to a wonderful guy like Brett you fucking slut?" It seemed that Janet was whimpering "I'm sorry," but she was hard to understand. I don't know what I looked like while Ashley was on her roll; I probably looked sad and ashen, and there was a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. Janet and Peter would not make eye contact with me, although they did with Ashley. "Here's how it's going to play out, assholes," Ashley decreed. "You two will not fight the divorces. We'll get papers filed at the beginning of next week. If you want to move in together, you take one condo that the four of us own, and Brett and I will take the other. If you fight the divorces in any way I will make sure that all of your family members and co-workers know what slime you two are, especially with your lying that you were planning a surprise party for me as your cover story for your fuck liaisons." "But I don't want..." Janet started to say. "Shut the fuck up, slut!" Ashley screamed, jumping out of her chair. "Neither Brett nor I give a rat's ass about what the fuck you want!" For the first time in this encounter Janet looked at me and mumbled "Brett, honey..." but that is as far as she got. Ashley grabbed Janet by the throat. "I told you to shut the fuck up, bitch!" she screamed. When Peter touched her arm to pull it off of Janet's throat Ashley did let go – and then promptly swung her fist sideways crunching Peter's nose." "Don't you ever touch me again, fucktard," she snarled. Once Peter and Janet assumed subservient positions Ashley continued. "You two decide what you want to do about living accommodations. Brett and I consider both marriages over as of this second. I'm taking Brett away for the weekend and will do my best to give my cheating ass a chance to establish a romantic relationship with him. If you haven't decided what you want to do by Monday Brett and I will both include protective order requests in our divorce petitions." With that Ashley got up, grabbed my hand, and exited the room with me in toe. I hadn't said one word the entire time. Sobbing provided the background sound as we stormed down the hall and out of the condo. As soon as we got outside with a single tear in her eye Ashley snuggled up to me. "Brett; please come away with me this weekend. I have reservations for tonight through Sunday night at a four star resort only sixty miles from here. I want to show you how much I love you and make a start on getting you to trust my cheating ass – that I've learned my lesson and will never cheat on my ray of sunshine." Since I felt my cock straining at my crotch, and since in my mind it was completely over with Janet, what else could I say but "Great!" and what else could I do but plant the seventh romantic kiss of our lives on Ashley. As we smooched I resolved that there was no longer any reason to count our romantic kisses. Ashley's car was already packed. She drove us to my condo, and I packed what I needed. On our way out of town we took a few more minutes to pay for and stash all of the valuables I had in a new safe deposit box, and to set up a new account and transfer half of the money in Janet and my main account into my new one. When we got to the resort I found out that Ashley had booked the Honeymoon Suite. It was really nice, with its own whirlpool bath, mirrors on the ceiling above the California King sized bed, a steam shower, and a beautiful view. More beautiful than the view outside the window, however, was the view of Ashley's naked body. Ashley had me sit on the edge of the mattress while she did a slow strip to "Cherry Pie" by Warrant, playing on her iPhone. It was obvious that she had practiced her routine. Her strip was the most erotic thing that I had ever seen in my life, especially when she started separating her labia as she rocked her hips and spread her knees as Warrant blasted out "Taste so good, Make a grown man cry." Just as the song was ending I think that she had her own plan as she shimmied over to me, but by that time I had gone over the edge and instinct took over. I leapt off the mattress, grabbed her by the arms, passionately kissed her, threw her on the bed, and then buried my nose in her pussy while stimulating her clit with one hand and rolling a nipple with the other. I never saw a woman climax so quickly. Once Ashley's scream had subsided and her quivering had abated, I yanked off my shirt, pants, and boxers, buried my rock hard hog in one thrust, and proceeded to fuck the shit out of her. I grunted with every powerful thrust while she meekly moaned "Yes, yes, yes," while digging her fingers into my back. The most powerful orgasm of my life overcame me as I jettisoned what felt like a liter of cum into her animated expectant pussy. When we finally separated, each with a film of perspiration on our chests, Ashley gazed into my eyes with the most loving look that I have ever seen in my life. "Brett – I love you," she quietly said, running her forefinger over my lip. "I can't believe that it took more than twenty years for me to realize it but I truly, really love you." She planted a soft quick kiss on my nose. I chuckled. "It took me just three kisses in the park on our picnic blanket to know that I love you too, sunshine." The rest of the weekend we never fucked again. We simply made love. ***************** Things did not go smoothly when we got back on Monday. It didn't really matter. The result was inevitable. We filed and served our divorce petitions on Monday, and ignored the attempts by Janet and Peter to get counseling. Since they hadn't moved in with each other and it wasn't possible to force them out of the condos we co-owned with them(the protective order threat by Ashley was bullshit and she knew it), after just two nights in our old condos Ashley and I got a small apartment together. The next weekend we moved anything that couldn't fit into our apartment into a storage facility despite constant harping by Peter and sobbing by Janet. I did talk to Janet on occasion trying to get her to agree to make things simple. She had all of the normal bullshit platitudes you would expect during our discussions, but they either went in one ear and out the other or I had a pat response – one that was truthful in addition to "pat." "Janet, I simply don't love you anymore; all my love left the second I laid eyes on those photos of you and Peter fucking. Now I love Ashley more than any other person or thing in my life. It's over; the quicker you accept it the easier it will be on you. There is only one way that this ultimately turns out, and there is nothing you can do to change that." The divorces were final nine months after the petitions were filed; it had cost the four of us much more in attorney fees than it should have, but that's life. Both condos were sold and the proceeds split, then Ashley and I bought one of our own. Why Peter and Janet never permanently moved in together I don't know – maybe Ashley does, but we never, ever talk about our exes; we only talk about the present and future. When Ashley got pregnant with our first child a year after our divorces were final we decided to get married. While I never believed in the old adage "Once a cheater, always a cheater," Ashley seemed on a mission to prove to me it had no relevance to our situation. She constantly advised me of her whereabouts until I finally told her to stop – I trusted her. I knew that I was the sunshine of her life because she was the sunshine of mine. Our second child was born six months ago. There are now four beams of sunshine in our house, and I've never been happier. My life is filled with passion – not just comfort!