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It's Not As Simple As "I Do"

By: amyyum



Anyone who's been married knows that the institution of marriage provides a complicated situation for the man and woman involved. It starts out with the participants proclaiming love "until death do us part," whether "in sickness or health," and "forsaking all others." Those are powerful words and concepts that I speculate most of the people entering into matrimony don't fully understand, especially in view of the curves life throws at us all. I sure didn't fully understand them when I got married at the obscenely young age of eighteen.

I'm Amy Walton, nee Allison. I have always considered myself a decent looking and somewhat intelligent girl/woman, but nothing special. My self-image may have been adversely affected because I had a shitty home life growing up, complicated greatly by my parents' divorce. I always felt that it was my fault, and my parents weren't astute enough, or didn't care enough, to convince me that it wasn't. My brother grew up completely fucked up, and my Mom taking in "overnight" boarders after my father left didn't help anything.

I probably married Brian Walton to get away from control by, contact with, whatever you want to call it, my mother. He was the ripe old age of twenty when we wed and as clueless as I was about life. We had a small – very small – wedding and moved into a small apartment.

I wasn't very experienced sexually when I married Brian. I had expected married sex to be much better than it was – and maybe with a more caring and responsive partner it would have been. Sometimes it was decent, other times it was just Brian getting his rocks off. There was never any oral, little experimentation, and I orgasmed about one third of the time.

One problem that I always had with Brian, but never addressed before I said "I do" to the "till death do us part, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others," mumbo-jumbo was that he was a male chauvinist, especially around other guys. That didn't mean that he wasn't nice to me or other women – he was. He simply had strong, unrealistic, outdated ideas about women.

Married life wasn't all bad, just not exciting or intellectually stimulating. Brian is a decent, mild mannered guy, and even when we first got married he was an excellent machinist so that he made decent money. I worked as a waitress for a while – something I really hated since I got hit on constantly; I got the feeling that many guys found me much hotter than I considered myself. I never could figure out why just because guys buy some food and drink at a restaurant that they feel that that entitles them to harass the waitress. I didn't play the game so my tips were never stellar.

After we had been married for three years we had our first child, a boy we named Tom. Brian insisted that I quit work. I could have looked at it two ways – his chauvinism coming out, or real concern for raising our kids properly. Since I hated being a waitress I didn't really care which was the case – I quit working.

We had normal marriage ups and downs, but all downs when it came to baby care. I doubt that Brian changed more than five diapers the entire time that Tom was in them.

After a miscarriage two years after I delivered Tom I was really down in the dumps, i. e. depressed. Brian didn't know how to deal with it. I finally went to see a psychologist and she got me back on track more despite Brian than because of him

Fortunately, we were blessed with fraternal twin girls, Jamie and Brittany, about eighteen months after I miscarried. Brian was no more help with them than he was with Tom until one day I went ballistic and made him take over what I normally did during a day, caring for two babies and a five year old at the same time. That gave him "religion," at least for a while, and he started helping out some.

Don't get me wrong. Although Brian almost never helped with the work of childcare he loved playing with and being with the kids. It was obvious that they were the light of his life.

About the time that the twins turned six months old our monetary situation changed dramatically for the better. First Brian got a promotion to master machinist because he was the only one at his shop that could properly machine to exacting specifications some of the very expensive and exotic materials, such as beryllium copper tubing, that they dealt with. That meant that he made more money than almost any other blue collar worker in our entire metropolitan area of Raleigh, North Carolina. That, combined with what we had saved from handling money carefully, allowed us to buy a nice house.

The second thing that happened was that I invented a type of baby carrier that was sturdier, simpler, and more aesthetic than anything on the market. Despite Brian initially pooh-poohing it I went to see a patent attorney, filed a patent application, and had a friend of mine who is really handy with both a sewing machine and "guy tools," make about a dozen units. I took them to a tradeshow one weekend, while Brian – with his mother's help – watched the kids. My baby carriers were an instant success. I sold the rights to a big company within ten days of the tradeshow, and within three months royalty checks started rolling in.

Shortly thereafter I came up with another invention that I had patented. It was a new type of high-end crib, easily convertible to other pieces of furniture once the child outgrew it. While the royalty money from my first invention was good, I figured that I could make ten times as much if I went into production of the crib myself. I found a high quality local manufacturer whose business was down, and someone with contacts with department and baby stores. Using my royalty money I started a business that became successful quite quickly. I found out that I had a knack for business.

To lose the weight that I had gained during my second pregnancy I started a regular exercise regime, and since I need to look presentable at business meetings I went to a makeup consultant and hair dresser to get a makeover. Within several months I actually started to think of myself as significantly above average in the body and face attractiveness departments – something that was often confirmed by the looks and comments I received from guys when I was in public, although I never solicited any attention.

While my success sure made things easy for us financially, including being able to send our kids to private school since the local public ones were deficient and didn't provide any day care, it had an adverse effect on the relationship between Brian and me. I don't know exactly what it was – maybe Brian felt threatened by my success since he had always been the primary bread winner in the family, maybe because he felt that I was giving too much attention to my appearance, I don't know what – but he started getting delusions about me having one or more affairs. 

"Complete delusions" were what they were. I had never cheated during our marriage and I don't know where his accusations were coming from. It seemed that any time that I had a business meeting with a man – whether in town or the few times I met business contacts out of town – I was met by increasingly more angry and fanciful accusations.

In all honesty, the constant accusations, the lack of any marital romance, and increasingly infrequent as well as unsatisfying sex, was making me question whether I did love Brian.

After the kids had gone to bed as Brian was bellyaching and accusing the night before I had my most important business trip since I came up with my crib concept, one where I would be gone overnight two nights and had arranged for a very competent sitter, I finally had had enough. "Why do you keep accusing me of infidelity when I've never been unfaithful to you? What possible reason or proof could you have?" 

"You're always meeting with guys most of whom are better looking than I am," was his startled response, "and you seem to be paying a lot more attention to your appearance than when we got married."

"You do fucking know that most of my business contacts for my cribs are guys; don't you?" I screamed even louder, "and that appearance is important in making presentations in the business world?" He remained silent with an uncomfortable look.

"You seem to like the money that my business brings in, so how am I supposed to continue to make money it if I stop doing business?" I asked, this time trying to lower my voice.

"Well, uh, you – well you could license the cribs just like you did the baby carrier and just stay at home with the kids. A woman's place is in the home, not out trying to compete with men. The only reason I can think of why you would do that is to hook up with them," he replied with a defiant tone and his arms crossed.

"You fucking moron," I spat out. "Either you're stuck in the 19th century or you're the most insecure person on earth; we make ten times as much money by me running the crib business as we would if I licensed it!" He had no response to that, just an insolent glare. "In any event I'm not putting up with your shit anymore!"

With that I went into our bedroom and finished packing for my trip to Chicago, called a cab, and left to stay at the hotel at the airport for the night so that I could just roll out of bed to get my flight early the next morning.

"Where are you going?" Brian barked as I was headed out the door with my suitcase and laptop.

"I can't stand the sight of your moronic face anymore. I'll spend the night in a hotel. I'll call the kids tomorrow night at 6:00 as planned, and I'll be back Thursday night around 8:00, also as planned. You can move my stuff into the guest room while I'm gone," I snarled. It appeared that he was trying to say "Oh, wait..." but the door slamming cut him off and I was in the cab before he got outside with a bemused look on his face.

My cellphone rang while I was about halfway to the hotel. It was Brian. I turned it off. 

I had a fitful night's sleep. I was so angry, disappointed in Brian, and distraught about what the rest of my life looked like that I knew that I had to resolve some issues before I got back home. Exactly how I was going to do that with the heavy schedule I had, meeting with my supplier, a testing agency, a large existing customer, and an even larger potential customer, I didn't know. I finally did get a little shuteye but the ring of the 6:30 a. m. alarm found me physically tired and emotionally drained.

My adrenaline started flowing on the flight and by the time that I got to my first meeting I was almost completely "on." The next two days were a whirlwind of activity, including long business dinners both nights after all-day meetings, or traveling from one meeting place to the other. 

The first night in Chicago I called the kids just before dinner. They were happy to talk with me and I stayed on the phone for more than half an hour hearing about their days and upcoming events. When Brian got on he was terse. "Why didn't you answer my cell phone call or return it?" he snapped.

"Because I said what I wanted to say, and nothing else was going to convince you that your ideas are ridiculous. Unless you want to apologize to me and retract your asshole accusations I have nothing to say to you now. I need to think about our future," I replied. Despite the harshness of my words I tried to moderate my tone.

"You are fucking someone else, aren't you..." was all that he got out before I hung up on him.

That night I got little sleep, preoccupied not only with what I was going to do about Brian but also with the upcoming day's activities.

The second night in Chicago I again called the kids and talked to them for a half hour. Brian didn't bother to come to the phone – fine with me. In fact, I'm not sure that he was even there since the sitter answered the phone. 

After my business dinner that night I was completely exhausted but not the least bit relaxed. I thought that a soak in the hotel's hot tub was in order. I put on the skimpy two piece swimsuit that I had bought myself as a present when I toned my body to the point that I was happy with it after I delivered the twins. I also donned a hotel robe and slippers and went downstairs. It was late enough that there was only one other person in the swimming pool – hot tub area; a man about my age in the hot tub.

"I hope that I won't be disturbing you by soaking for a while," I said to the guy as I approached the tub.

He looked up with a forlorn expression, forced a smile, and said "No problem – please."

I did notice that his eyes get wide when I took off my robe and stepped into the tub, opposite him.

"I hope I won't be insulting you," he said after I was submerged up to my neck, "but you look as despondent as I feel."

I was a little surprised by that statement from a stranger. I didn't doubt that I looked despondent, however, so I replied "I'm not the least bit insulted. Embarrassed that my emotion is so obvious; and of course I can't know how you feel, but I can't dispute your assessment of my condition."

"Sorry," he responded with a sheepish look. "I really had no business saying that."

"Please don't be sorry; I just pity you if really do feel as dejected as I look." He forced another smile. "I don't suppose you'd like to talk about it?" He got a quizzical look on his face, but I pushed it. "I'm Amy, by the way."

"Are you a priest, Amy?" he laughed. I shook my head "no" and smiled. He leaned forward and extended his hand. "I'm Rob, Amy," he said. As we shook hands he continued "I wasn't always a lost soul; that happened just recently."

"Hey, maybe your situation is worse than mine and I'll feel better by comparison," I joked, hoping to introduce some levity into a foreboding encounter.

"Well let me ask you this before opening up my soul to you. Where are you from and how often do you get to Chicago?"

"I'm from Raleigh, North Carolina, I've never been to Chicago before, and it is unlikely that I'll come back again, certainly not in the near future. How about you?"

"Well I'm from Dallas, and this is also my first, and likely last, time in Chicago. I guess that means that we're unlikely to ever meet again, doesn't it, Amy?"

"I believe that you're right, Rob; does that make you feel like unburdening your problems?"

Rob and I exchanged some verbal parries and thrusts for a few more minutes. Then it appeared that he was willing to open up. I looked at him expectantly as he was obviously rolling around in his mind what he wanted to say. Finally it came out, hesitantly at first and then in a gusher.

"I've been married to Melinda for five years. We were discussing having kids, something that we always wanted before marriage. She was getting a little hard to pin down about it and the way that she was acting got me concerned – and," he sighed, "suspicious. To make a long story short I found out that she has been having an affair and hasn't made her lover use a condom."

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed. After a delay I asked "Have you confronted her?"

"Yes. I also confronted the guy that Melinda was having an affair with just before I left on this trip. I beat the shit out of him, and I'm wondering whether the cops will be waiting when I get back home."

"More importantly than the cops, what did Melinda say when you confronted her?"

"She lied about it. When I showed her a first photo she continued to lie. After a second she cursed me and lied some more. After a third photo that left nothing to the imagination she said that I had no business spying on her. I told her that we were done and stormed out of the apartment, stayed at a hotel that night, and beat the shit out of her paramour just before I went to the airport; that was three days ago."

"Have you heard from her since?"

"She's left something like ten messages on my cellphone. I listened to them all but haven't responded to any. In the first one she called me childish; in the second one she chastised me for beating up her friend; in the third one she said that we needed to talk; the last seven have gotten progressively more conciliatory including the one tonight where she begged my forgiveness, promised it was over, couldn't explain why she had done it, and cried hysterically," Rob replied. With each word he seemed to get more and more choked up. Finally he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Sorry, it was a bad idea for me to burden you," he continued after he regained his composure.

"I don't know what to say," I stammered. "Do you want it to work out?"

After a long delay he tilted his head, wiped off another tear, and said "I'm not sure. My main fear is that I'll never again find someone who could make me feel as great as I did when Melinda and I were first married. Maybe the odds are better trying to re-kindle that feeling than finding someone else; I don't know."

After another long pause Rob seemed to buck up and asked "So what's your story? Is your husband cheating on you?"

"What makes you think that I'm married?" I replied with a smile.

"I saw the rings at the same time that I saw your sleek body." I laughed, Rob blushed and said "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out. Uh, well...so is that your problem?"

"No. My problem is that my husband has become more of a male chauvinist pig every day, it seems; and he keeps accusing me of having affairs without any reason aside from the fact that I deal with men in business. He wasn't available when I needed him when I was depressed after a miscarriage and when I needed help tending to three little kids; and I don't know if I love him."

"Have you – had affairs?" he asked with trepidation.

"Wow – are you bold; I've only known you a half hour and you asked me a question like that?" I said, with a loud laugh.

"Has it been a half hour? We need to get out before we cook," he laughed in return.

"No; absolutely not," I replied with a grin.

"You don't want to get out?" Rob asked, puzzled.

"No, I've never had an affair; but I soon may," I laughed.

With that we both got out of the hot tub. I noticed what a nice body that Rob had; I also noticed that he noticed mine. There was a lot of "noticing" going on.

It probably was a combination of things, but primarily my fatigue from several days in a row of burning the candle at both ends and not sleeping well combined with the heat from the hot tub, but I suddenly felt very faint. Rob noticed – again more "noticing" – and caught me before I fell. He sat me down on a lounge chair, put my robe over my shoulders, and got me a cup of water from the pool drinking fountain.

I recovered in three or four minutes and thanked Rob. "Would you mind making sure that I don't pass out before I get to my room?" I asked. "It's 1415."

"No problem," Rob replied, putting on his robe and helping me up.

We had light banter as we walked the meandering path to the elevator and then took it up to the fourteenth floor. Rob stood on the opposite side of the elevator as we rode up and chatted. When we got to my room I looked into his eyes as I said "Thank you." Then my body suddenly involuntarily shivered – especially my crotch – which caused me to get bold. "Rob would you like to come in?"

He stared at me. "We both have very complicated situations right now. Do you think my coming into your room would help either of them?"

"I don't know if it will help your situation, but I do believe – yes I'm certain – that it will help my situation. Please?" I continued, reaching out and touching his arm.

Less than two minutes later we were both naked and in a tight embrace with Rob's rock hard cock poking my stomach. After another two minutes I was on my back in my bed with Rob's lips, tongue and fingers furiously working over my pussy. I never had someone go down on me before. At first I didn't know how to react, but that was only a very temporary problem. After a few minutes I just let myself succumb to the phenomenal pleasure he bestowed upon me.


It's Not As Simple As "I Do"



I had two earth shattering orgasms before he stopped. He then turned me over, lifted up my waist, and buried his cock in me in one stroke. As he pummeled me I tried to bang back the best that I could. Given my almost comatose condition – a result of my two orgasms as much as my fatigue – I'm not sure that I did a very good job, but it wasn't for lack of trying. When Rob ejaculated into me I let out a loud, low, groan, matched in intensity only by his, and a feeling of euphoria enveloped me. That is the last thing that I remember until morning.

While I have vague recollections of drifting in and out of consciousness during the night the only constant was feeling a warm hard body next to me. When I awoke the first thing that I saw was Rob's face. He was still asleep, but his eyes were fluttering. I was totally devoid of guilt as I gently kissed him on the lips. Apparently not gently enough since he opened up his eyes, smiled, and said "What a nice way to wake up, gorgeous."

"I'm sorry that I seduced you last night – sorry for you, not for me. That was by far the best sexual experience of my life. Thank you."

"Wait a second," he laughed, "a beautiful sexy woman lets me worship her body and so stimulates me that I pass out after sex for the first time in my life and she thanks me? Is this real?"

"Pinch me and see," I chuckled. "Not there, you animal," I giggled as he pinched a nipple.

"Why not? I didn't get to worship that part of you last night," he chortled.

"Back to reality for a while," I cajoled. "What time is it?

Rob turned and looked at the clock next to the bed. "8:22," he laughed. "I was supposed to get up at 7:30."

"I need to make a call changing my 9:30 appointment to 10:30 – I'm hoping that we can have another session if I do," I said, biting my thumb.

"You make your call, I'll make mine," he snickered.

I got up, made two calls, went to pee and wash my face – and wash off the cum caked on my thighs and still leaking out of my pussy. Then I went back to the bedroom. Rob had just clicked off his cell phone. He pinched my ass as he sprinted past me to the bathroom.

I was standing up, drinking from a water bottle, when Rob returned from the john with a diabolical look on his face. He immediately embraced me, planted a passionate kiss on my lips, then started sucking a nipple, fondling a tit with one hand, and stroking my pussy with the other. I fondled his balls with one of my hands and stroked his already rock hard dick with the other one, while trying to bite his neck.

I was very hot, very fast. When I started moaning he grabbed my ass cheeks, lifted me up off the floor and pushed my back against my hotel room wall. Then – with guidance from my hand – he buried his cock in my soaking wet pussy. He pummeled the shit out of me as I held onto his neck and back for dear life. I had two colossal orgasms before I heard him grunt and felt his cum detonating in my pussy. I almost passed out. He apparently almost did too because it was all that he could do to sit back down on the bed before collapsing.

When we separated we did nothing but breathe heavily for a while. When we regained our composures we smiled, giggled, and manipulated each other's parts while lightly chatting. When it was 9:15 we knew that we needed to get a move on since we couldn't postpone our meetings any longer.

We had a nice shower together with significant playing in addition to washing, but no sex. After he dressed he went to his room and packed, and I furiously applied makeup and packed myself, all while eating two power bars. We arranged to meet in the lobby to check-out and take a cab together since his meeting place was only about half a mile from mine.

When the cab got to the building my meeting was in Rob kissed me on the lips and asked "What time do you have to leave for the airport today?"

"Around 3:30," I replied, squeezing his hand. "Why?"

"That's about the time that I have to leave too. Tell you what; be in front of this building at 3:30 and I'll come by in a cab and pick you up and we can ride to the airport together."

"Sounds great," I responded, gave him a quick kiss, got my bag and laptop out of the trunk, and waved as I entered the building.

I was on such a natural high, having gotten the best night's sleep in a year, and having had the two best sexual experiences of my life, that I absolutely killed my presentation. I had the potential customer eating out of my hand. I ended up with the largest purchase order ever for my cribs with a premium unit price. I also got them to sign a non-disclosure agreement then discussed with them several other ideas that I had for the future, which they were excited about.

I declined several offers to take me to the airport. I finished by 2:30 and used to good advantage the time between then and when I went outside at 3:20 to wait for Rob. I had an inspiration about how I was going to handle my situation with Brian. After my night with Rob I knew that there was no chance that I could ever again be happy married to Brian, but I also couldn't be so cruel as to try and take the kids away from him since they were his life, and despite my problems with him, he was a good guy. Plus, there was no way that I would allow my kids to grow up without two parents. 

Rob's cab was there promptly at 3:30. He got out, put my bag and laptop in the trunk, and gave me a big hug.

We exchanged information about how our meetings had gone. His was almost as successful as mine, so we were two happy campers.

"So, have you decided what to do about Brian?" he asked.

"Yes. I had an inspirational moment as great as when I invented my baby carrier and crib," I replied with a big smile. "It is ingenious and solves all of my problems and deals with all of my concerns; and I think that I can get Brian to go along with it. After my night of over-the-top sex there is no way that I'm settling for anything else but fantastic sex for the rest of my life." Then I gave him a passionate kiss.

"What about you?" I asked him.

"You did the same thing for me that I did for you – you made my future path clear," he chuckled. He gave me a quick kiss then continued. "I will start proceedings to divorce Melinda as soon as I get home. My major fear of wondering whether I will ever find someone else that turns me on like she did disappeared almost the instant that I met you. Thanks, sex goddess." That was followed by another passionate kiss.

The rest of the ride he surreptitiously fingered my pussy after sticking his hand under my skirt and moving my panties aside, while I stroked his cock through his pants. That is I stroked his cock until I had to bite down on my hand to keep from screaming when he made me cum once again.

Our flights were leaving from different terminals in O'Hare so we had one more passionate kiss before parting. He handed me a piece of paper with an email address on it. "In case you ever need to chat," he smiled.

I walked to check-inn for my flight with a big grin on my face and wet panties, never having found out Rob's last name or given him mine.

I got home at 8:00 p.m. just as planned. I got an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, and a lukewarm one from Brian. I talked to and played with the kids until bedtime, then read Jasmine and Brittany a bedtime story – Tom considered himself too big for that anymore. When I went back downstairs about to tell Brian "We need to talk" he beat me to it.

"We need to talk, Amy," he matter-of-factly said.

"Yes, we do, Brian," I replied with a smile.

We sat down in the den and closed the door to be sure that we were not overheard by the kids. After we sat down he started right in. "I decided that there was no way to get you to stop your sleeping around unless you felt the pain that I did. So I fucked one of your friends while you were gone," he said with his arms crossed. I didn't expect that comment; he expected my reply even less.

"Good for you Brian," I said, without sarcasm. "That makes what I'm going to tell you much easier. We're getting divorced."

"What?" he choked out.

"I'm sick and tired of your baseless accusations. I NEVER had sex with anyone else since we've been married except for this weekend. You finally drove me to it because your ridiculous assaults on my character drained away all of my love for you. Now there is no going back."

"Huh?" was his intelligent response.

"There are several options. Listen to me carefully – are you listening?"

"Uh, yeah," he responded almost like an automaton. 

"The first option is that we can go through the normal contentious divorce thing. We'll waste a lot of money, poison our relationship forever, make the kids miserable, and fight over custody with one of us – probably you – losing the right to be a full time parent and only getting to see the kids occasionally. I don't like that option."

I now had his attention. He was staring at me intently.

"The second option is that we can get divorced with complete agreement and conciliation. We can buy a duplex, knock out the wall between the units, your bedroom can be in one wing and mine in the other. We can divide up our property in a rational manner and agree to split all future costs of the house and raising the kids 50-50. We can continue to live with the kids as we do now so that we are both their full time parents. The only difference is that we won't be sleeping together, and we can have sex with anyone else that we want."

He was still staring intently but hadn't said anything.

"The third option is the same as the second except that we won't tell anyone that we're divorced. We'll still wear our rings and pretend with our families that we're together. The third option is the one that I want, but I'll go along with the second option. I hope that you don't choose the first because if you do we both will regret it."

"But, Amy... I don't want a divorce, I just want you to stop seeing other guys."

"I will never be able to convince you that until this weekend I never had sex with anyone else, and you're too proud to go to a shrink to deal with what is a severe problem that you have. Plus, I simply don't love you anymore. I like you – except for the brainless accusations – and you're a good father. But I have no interest in sex with you."

The conversation had not gone as he expected. He sat dejected with his head in his hands. "On Monday I'm seeing the divorce attorney I lined up on my trip back home. I'll give you until Tuesday night to decide which option you want. If you don't by then – or convince me that you really do need more time to decide – I'll assume that you want the first option and start contested proceedings immediately. In the meantime I'll sleep in the guest bedroom."

With that I got up, walked to the second bathroom, showered, and went to bed in the guest bedroom. There was no indication that Brian had come upstairs yet.

I slept soundly with dreams of Rob sucking my clit and fingering my G-spot dancing in my head.

The next day, a Friday, Brian was sullen during breakfast. Because of the normal pre-school excitement I don't think that the kids noticed. As usual Brian left for work before I took the kids to school, and he gave them each an unusually long hug. He said good-bye to me, but we didn't kiss or hug.

When I came back from dropping the kids off at school the first thing that I did was to forward to my manufacturer the purchase orders, and concessions from a supplier, that I had gotten on my trip to Chicago. I talked to the production manager and told him exactly how I wanted things prioritized, and got his pledge that he would assist the testing agency in any way reasonable. Then – in case Brian chose options two or three – I went looking for a duplex.

Susan, the top real estate agent in town, wasn't aware of anything on the market that fit my needs exactly. However, she said that a local high quality builder she knew and trusted, named Jack, had just finished a big project and was about to start work on a spec house on a very desirable lot that he owned. She called him and we went to see him that same Friday morning.

When I sketched out my ideas of what I wanted to Jack he was intrigued. He showed me the plans for the spec house that he was going to build. All of Susan, Jack and I, plus Jack's construction supervisor, thought that we could fairly easily revise his plans to accommodate my needs.

"I had planned on this being a solar house. Using passive solar, a solar hot water heater, and photovoltaic cells I hope to provide eighty percent of the energy needs for the house with solar," Jack said.

"Works for me," I smiled. I gave him a check for $1,000 to rework the plans and he promised that he'd have them for me by the next Friday.

Both Brian and I busied ourselves with kid-related activities Friday night and all weekend. When the kids were in bed we didn't really talk until Sunday night, but were pleasant toward each other. Sunday night Brian wanted to discuss things.

"Amy; isn't there some way we can work this out without a divorce?" he meekly started the conversation.

"Why would you want to, Brian. You don't trust me, you resent it that I'm successful as a businesswoman, and you haven't given me any indication for a long time that you actually do love me. What exactly do you want to save?"

"I...I dooo love you, Amy. I can't help what I feel even if you think that I'm crazy, but I can really try to believe you, and I won't make any further effort to get you to give up your business," he moaned on the verge of tears.

As gently as possible I said "I'm sorry, Brian. It's too late. You drained my love away, and it's not coming back, and I'm not becoming celibate at thirty years old, and I'm not going to make your cheating accusations come true." I got up, squeezed his hands, and then went to my office to get ready for a production meeting next week.

As planned on Monday I saw Melanie, a divorce attorney. She told me that what I wanted was unique in her experience, but it intrigued her and she had no problem either being a bulldog if the first option was necessary, or calling upon her creative juices if the second or third options were possible. Melanie needed to know which option before she could realistically prepare the papers, however, because things would be vastly different depending upon which was selected.

As Brian left for work Tuesday morning I told him "I need your answer about which option you want to pursue by tonight, Brian. Please let it be the second or third option."

He just nodded and left.

After the kids went to bed Tuesday night we walked into the den together.

"I've come to grips with the reality of our situation. I'm sad, but resigned. The third option is the one I want – at least initially. Maybe we'll tell people we're divorced after a year or two," he said with a tear in his eye.

"Thanks, Brian," I said, giving him a hug. "Friday night I'll show you the plans for the house I propose." I strangely felt not even one iota of grief, sadness, guilt, or any other emotion except for relief and happiness.

Wednesday I called Melanie and told her my good news. She promised to have the papers ready Friday and said that Brian and I should come in Friday afternoon, if he could get off work, to go over them so that we both were agreeable to what she was working out.

I got the revised house plans from Jack on Friday morning. They were perfect, and I was pleased that he was excited about building it. He told me what he needed from me to get his construction loan. That afternoon Brian and I went to see Melanie. She was very straightforward in her approach and revised her proposal for the divorce details to accommodate what both Brian and I needed, then wanted, and then hoped for. I bent over backwards to be conciliatory, and it was clear that Brian was making an effort too. I gave in on two points I would have preferred not to, but everything else fit in nicely with both of our desires.

Melanie had worked hard to find a way to make our divorce fly under the radar. While she couldn't make the entire thing confidential, most of it was and she filed in a remote county of North Carolina so that almost anyone we knew would never find those papers that could not be made confidential.

Given the equity we had in our present house, Brian's high earnings, and the net worth and sales figures of my business, we had no difficulties whatsoever in arranging the financing for our new house.

Jack, a trim, nice looking, guy about thirty five years old, was a pleasure to work with. He obviously was excited about building our house because it was unique and included all of the ideas relating to energy efficiency and energy production that he had wanted to try since he got into the construction business. One thing that we could not get him to commit to, however, was an exact completion date, something that we needed to make a smooth transition in selling our house and occupying the new one.

Jack was easy to talk to, so easy that I actually felt comfortable in telling him why I wanted the house with two master bedrooms on opposite sides, two garages on opposite sides, and two side entrances into the master bedrooms and garages in addition to a central entrance.

About six weeks after construction started Jack was over at my house on a Wednesday morning when the kids were in school and Brian at work. We were going over some details about the house, and I was teasing him again about him not giving us a completion date commitment. To be honest, I probably was flirting with him. Ever since my night and morning with Rob my libido had soared, and I was horny as hell since that was the last sex that I had and it was nine weeks ago. A dildo just wasn't doing it for me.

During our discussion Jack told me, for the first time, that his wife was pregnant.

"Is this your first, Jack?"

"Yes; but it might be our last too because things are not going smoothly," he replied.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said with concern. "What's the problem?"

"My wife, Teresa, is having a very difficult pregnancy. She is just finishing her second trimester and the doctor put her on bed rest. Fortunately her parents live nearby and are retired, and are happy to be with her so we haven't had to hire anyone to help her. I probably shouldn't complain – especially to a customer," he laughed, "but it sure is hard on me going without adult contact."

"You mean fucking," I laughed.

He turned red. When I continued to laugh he lightened up and said, "Yeah, without fucking."

I replied, "Yeah, tell me, the soon to be divorcee, about it," and we both laughed.

As he was collecting up his papers and getting ready to leave suddenly a strange look swept over his face.

"Say, Amy," he said.

"Yes..." I hesitantly replied.

"I want to ask you something. However, I want you to pretend that I never did if what I ask you about isn't appealing. Can you agree to that?" he inquired with a very serious while still strange look.

My curiosity was up. I paused to reflect on his question, and then said, "Sure. Even though you're my contractor I consider you a friend too, and friends can forget if they need to."

"Thanks," he sighed. After another pause he said "You want a guaranteed completion date and I want to survive my wife's bed rest pregnancy without hiring a hooker. I know from the way that you're handling your divorce that you're a very practical woman. Well, uh...is there some way that we can both get what we're after?"

My pussy tingled. In my increasingly horny condition I had of course fantasized about fucking Jack, but hadn't really pursued it since I didn't need the complications. For the longest time I looked at him sternly with my arms crossed. Just as he started to blush some more and say "OK, please forget..." I cut him off.




It's Not As Simple As "I Do"



"Yes, Jack. I think that we can work something out. Why don't you give me a guaranteed completion date four months from today and we'll arrange to meet every Wednesday at noon for a 'status update.'"

He smiled broadly. "How about I give you a guaranteed completion date ninety days from today, and we have 'status' meetings at lunch every Tuesday and Friday?"

"Sounds like a plan," I replied with a big smile. I walked over to him, gave him a hug while making sure to stroke my hand over the flagpole tenting his pants, then said "Why don't you bring me the contract revision with the guaranteed date when we have our first status meeting noon on Friday?"

"Sounds like a plan," he sheepishly replied, then gathered his stuff and said "See you Friday" over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

It's funny, but I never even once considered backing out of my deal with Jack. When he punctually arrived on Friday, obviously having just showered, I greeted him in a robe and high heels. That made his eyes as big as saucers.

I read over the contract revision, signed two originals, he signed them, I put one in the safe in my office, then dropped my robe as I walked toward him, naked underneath.

He was speechless as I approached him, rubbed my hand on his chest and whispered "There's something in my bedroom I want to show you," then held him by the hand and led him upstairs, being sure to exaggerate the wiggle of my ass as I did so.

Jack was obviously nervous when I got him into my bedroom, the former guestroom. I slowly started to undress him without his assistance. Once his shirt was off and his pants and boxers around his ankles I said "This is going to be recreational sex, Jack. We're going to satisfy each other's animalistic needs. Step out of your pants and let's get to it."

He didn't need any further encouragement. We started out in a sixty nine with him on top, but he was way too excited. He almost came in my mouth before spinning himself around, burying his cock in my pussy in one thrust, and then pumping like an oil derrick. He came quickly, before I was ready, as Brian often had. There was a major difference between him and Brian, however. He knew that I hadn't cum, and once he started deflating he pulled out, shinnied down the mattress, and started sucking on my clit and pinching my labia. I came quickly, but he didn't stop until I came a second time. They weren't massive orgasms, but nice – for sure better than with a dildo.

While not nearly as good as my session with Rob it was much better than my average session with Brian. We were both grateful. We showered together with a lot of kissy face and parts manipulation. As he was leaving he started to say "I'm sorry that I was so excited..." but I cut him off.

"After the third or fourth time we'll be experts at pleasing each other," I said with a smile and a kiss. "See you Tuesday."

He had a shit-eating grin on his face as he exited.

My prediction was true. By the third time together the sex was awesome. Not quite on the level that it had been with Rob, but very satisfying. Every Tuesday and Friday at noon we would discuss the house for fifteen minutes or so, then vigorously fuck for forty five minutes to an hour. Thrice we both had multiple orgasms, and I never failed to have at least two.

Jack's wife Teresa delivered a healthy baby boy two weeks early. As baby presents I gave them one of my baby carriers, one of my top of the line cribs, and two other baby products my company had started making. Jack delivered the house, occupancy permit in hand, two days before his guaranteed completion date.

After Brian, Tom, the girls and I went through the new house with Jack and the construction supervisor our punch list of things that needed to be fixed was unbelievably small – only one significant and two minor items. The construction supervisor promised to have them fixed by the next day. As we were getting ready to leave I took Jack aside and said "You really outdid yourself, Jack. I'm in awe of how the house turned out; it's exactly what I wanted."

"I'm in awe of you," he said. "Say, Amy. I know that our deal is over now – but I wonder if it is possible that I could get a bonus for a job well done? Teresa is still out of commission."

I grinned. "Tell you what. We'll move in this weekend and I'm sure that you'll have to come by every day next week at noon just to see that everything is to my satisfaction. Come in the East side door – that's where my bedroom will be."

His grin was bigger than mine.

The house was perfect. By the time that we moved in our divorce was final – and to my knowledge, no one, except Jack and he wasn't talking, knew about it. The kids especially had no clue and were as well adjusted and happy as we could have hoped for. Brian and I had remained civil – even pleasant – throughout and now we both had our separate financial situation and obligations. We split everything having to do with the house (including meals at home) and kids 50-50 and for everything else we were on our own. We did exchange presents on birthdays and holidays, though not on our anniversary.

After the bonus week Jack and I parted, both of us extremely satisfied with our relationship. I knew that Jack wanted to continue but I pretended not to catch on and let him down gently, but firmly. There is no way that I wanted to break up his marriage with Teresa, and now he really didn't have any reason to come by our house.

The sex with Jack had kept my libido at my post-Rob high and I needed to find someone else to satisfy me, especially since now I had the perfect situation for it – divorced and my own wing of the house. I was kind of surprised at how many guys, single or married, wanted to hook up with me since to the entire world it still appeared that I was married. I had had a few flings, but nothing that really got my mojo going, when one day I came across the piece of paper with Rob's email address on it.

"I should see how he's doing," I said to myself, embarrassed at the tinge in my groin when I looked at the address. I sent him a simple email.

"Hi Rob. I've been busy. My divorce is final, I'm in a new duplex home with my ex and I on opposite sides of the house and the three kids none the wiser. How are things going with you? You're not in jail, are you? Cheers, Amy from Chicago/Raleigh."

I got a reply within five minutes.

"Hi sexy. I had just about given up hope that you'd ever contact me, Amy. My divorce became final last week. I never got charged, Melinda's buddy didn't want the publicity, and it turns out that he was married too. My divorce proceedings were bitter for several months, but in the end worked out. Unfortunately I haven't found someone to take Melinda's place. I think that you spoiled me. Do you have any interest in meeting? Love/lust, Rob."

"That is pretty direct," I laughed to myself. I was about to dismiss the concept when I noticed that I had soaked my panties with pussy juice. "He was special," I said to myself. "What can it hurt?

That was two years ago. A lot has changed since then. Everyone now knows that Brian and I are divorced because Rob and I are married, and Brian is married again too.

Rob and I saw each other for three days in Dallas and for three days in Raleigh before he decided to get a job in North Carolina. My kids instantly took to Rob, and he and Brian have gotten along better than could be expected, perhaps in part because I get along very well with Brian's new wife.

Rob found a job in Durham, only nine miles from my house, just as good as the one he had in Texas. We had a combined love/fuck fest in my house for a month before we got married – and it has continued for the eighteen months since then. Just touching each other gets me wet and him hard.

When at age thirty one I said "I do" to Rob I knew what every word of my wedding vows meant, and there is no doubt in my mind that I'll not only keep, but cherish, them.

Brian met Coretta, a formerly abused wife with a daughter the same age as our twin girls, who was dirt poor most of her life. Brian talked her into getting divorced, paid her legal expenses, talked the D. A. into prosecuting her ex, and then married her. She loves being a stay-at-home mom, Brian's ideal, and is fantastic with kids. Brian and my kids not only get along with her daughter, but really, really like Coretta too. Without the kids' or Brian's knowledge, I pay Coretta for child care when I have to be out and they're around, so that she has some money to spend on herself, something that she never had before in her life.

Coretta is almost as excited as Rob and I are that I'm three months pregnant with Rob's child, and has promised to help out with the baby all that she can. Jack is in the process of putting an addition on Rob's and my side of the house for a nursery and playroom (for all of the kids) and Brian has even volunteered to contribute toward it. Of course I don't have a "guaranteed completion date" agreement with Jack, much to his disappointment, because once Rob came into the picture there never was anyone else I had or have even the slightest interest in.

Rob says that the addition should also include our talisman – a hot tub!