30 comments/ 36859 views/ 26 favorites Money Can't Buy Happiness? By: imhapless As I drove to the Leukemia Ball - by myself - that fateful Saturday night, I wondered how my life could be so rich in some ways, and in the crapper in others. For about the 10,000th time in the last two years I mused about how the old saying "Money can't buy happiness" was - at least in my case - not just a cliché but an axiom. The rich parts of my life? Money, not just family money but from my position as COO of a Fortune 1000 company. Much more important than the money, two kids who I adored and were the lights of my life. The major crapper - a wife who after the birth of our second child, our daughter Carolyn, almost five years ago had absolutely no interest whatsoever in sex. I think that we had sex ten times in the first three years after Carolyn was born. Two years ago Emily moved into a separate bedroom and we never had sex again; while she was usually pleasant we had more like a brother-sister relationship than husband-wife; actually, probably even more like two cousins than brother-sister. I tried almost everything possible to get her to see a professional psychologist about what I considered her "problem," She didn't consider her having no interest whatsoever in sex a problem. "We had regular sex for twelve years, Braxton; that's enough." Since she was really horny and loved to fuck when she was pregnant with our Carolyn, I tried to find a way to get her pregnant again - but that's not possible when she won't fuck at all, and in any event she finally informed me a year after our last baby was born that she had had her tubes tied after the birth, something that she never even discussed with me at the time! I tried talking to Emily's younger sister Madeline and her mother Colette. Madeline - who was going through a non-contentious divorce (if there is such a thing), without kids - said "That's your problem and I'd never get involved in an issue so highly personal." Actually her dismissive attitude pissed me off a little. I thought that we always had a good relationship - in fact I might have married her if I met her before I met Emily - and I had done a number of things to help her and her deadbeat husband out in the past. However, she was right that this was "highly personal" so I cut her some slack. Colette was incensed that I'd even bring it up. "My God, Braxton, she gave you two kids - what more do you want?" Now I know why Emily's father always had a dour look on his face - he wasn't getting any either! Colette was as frigid as Emily. I tried to get our minister involved since Emily claimed to be religious. Minister Jack had had two divorces, which I finally concluded disqualified him from giving worthwhile advice. He did talk to Emily - I have no idea what he actually said to her - but all that did was anger Emily for involving him in "my" (not "her") problem. His only advice to me - get a divorce. In other words effectively give up my biggest joy in life - daily interaction with my kids. I considered the possibility that Emily was having an affair - in fact I was suspicious enough that I spent $25,000 on private detectives. They came up with zip. "She's the most boring subject we've ever had under surveillance," the head of the P.I. firm told me after monitoring her electronically and following her for three months. "While there are no such things as guarantees related to human behavior, this case is the closest we've ever come to giving a guarantee. I'd say that there is a 99.999% probability that she is not having an affair -not even an emotional one let alone a physical one." Actually, on some level I might actually have preferred that she was having an affair rather than being "the most boring subject" ever. At least then I'd have an explanation. I harkened back to my thinking when I married Emily almost seventeen years ago. She didn't have the physical beauty that would cause me to fall for her instantly, although she was nice looking and well put together; however she was intelligent and personable, and after I got to know her I found her incredibly sexy in a way that I couldn't quite figure out, and she seemed to be madly in love with me and was always affectionate. Plus, I was in for the long haul - I wanted kids and a stable home. My reasoning was that beauty fades over time, but love, affection, and personality don't. That shows you how much I knew - she didn't look any different now than seventeen years ago but any manifestation of love, and all affection, had seemingly vanished faster than a crack whore's looks! * * * * * Emily would normally go with me to a charity event like the Leukemia Ball that Saturday night, but she was legitimately ill and begged off. The festivities progressed just like had happened at the dozens of other "cause balls" that I had attended in the past - that is until all the speeches were over and the band started playing. I was getting ready to leave when a woman who though probably not drunk, but feeling no pain, bumped into me. The drink in her hand spilled on her. I am confident that her alcohol-induced clumsiness was what caused the spill - but being a gentleman I didn't push that point. "I'm so sorry," I said, touching her arm. "I hope that I haven't ruined your lovely blouse - and can I get you another drink?" It was impossible not to notice that she had a beautiful face and on first glance seemed to be well put together. She just chuckled as she moved her non-glass holding hand over the wet spot on her blouse - atop her left tit. I had no choice but to look at what she was doing. The wetness made her blouse see-through and she didn't have a bra on. "Holy shit, that's a nice tit," flashed through my brain, but I was in control enough not to say anything. "It's just vodka, it'll come out," she chirped, with a smile. "However considering what the wetness has done to my blouse" - she apparently had been clued in by my staring that her left tit was on display - "if you're as gentlemanly as you seem to be, you'll dance me over to my table so that I can put on my wrap." With that she put her glass down on the nearest table and held out her arms in a waltz position - a slow song was playing. "Of course...sure," I mumbled in reply as I took her in my arms, although I was anything but "sure." I hadn't had close contact with an attractive adult female for two years and unfortunately the first part of what happened next was entirely predictable. I almost instantly got a boner when are bodies moved together. What happened after that wasn't predictable. "Why that's the nicest compliment anyone has ever paid to me," she grinned as our bodies remained in contact despite the fact that she had to have felt my boner on her thigh. "What...what?" I stuttered, hoping that she wasn't saying what I thought that she was. "The fact that your cock would salute instantly on contact with my body is an enormous compliment, especially from a handsome man like you," she replied, staring me in the eye with a diabolical grin on her face. "Uh...sorry...you are a beautiful woman but unfortunately there is a more complicated explanation for that," I mumbled trying to divert my gaze from her, but finding it impossible. "Once we get to my table and I put on my wrap I insist that you tell me about why I shouldn't be unambiguously complimented." With that she put her head on my shoulder, pulled me tighter, and whispered "Follow my lead." It seemed that my dick got harder and harder. It didn't help that with her heels on she was the perfect height for comfortable dancing, or that her light amount of perfume was intoxicating, or that through our clothes her thigh never left contact with my cock. I robotically followed her lead, barely noticing that one song had ended and another slow song had begun. Had I been "with it" I might have realized that she was taking her sweet time maneuvering us to her table. It was long enough that I was fearful that I'd have a spontaneous ejaculation. Finally we got near her table, and she broke close contact and led me by the hand over to where she had been sitting, and her wrap and purse were. As is common at "cause balls" most of the people sitting at her table had either left or were on the dance floor, so after she put her pashmina on she sat down and patted the adjacent seat. I sat down next to her and was instantly hit with a totally inappropriate question for someone I had met five minutes ago. "So why shouldn't I be unequivocally flattered that your cock got instantly stiff when you contacted me?" I know that I was sweating as I stared into her eyes. From our dance and my view of her as she led me to the table I knew that not only was her face beautiful but that she had a consummate ass and legs - and then, of course, there was that really nice and large left tit (which I assumed had a matching right one). She seemed to be about five - ten years younger than I was - either that or she was very, very well preserved. "Uh...I'm not sure that I'm comfortable talking about it with a stranger," I mumbled as sweat did pour from my forehead into my right eye. "Then let's not be strangers," she chimed. "I'm Alicia," she announced with a smile while holding out her right hand. My first crush in grade school was the only other Alicia I had ever known; I had wanted to name my daughter Carolyn that, but my wife had other ideas. It's funny how something that is a coincidence like that can break down barriers. I extended my hand and with a smile replied "I'm Braxton." "Fancy name," she chuckled. "There is a Braxton Winston that is one of the underwriters of this soiree; is that you?" "Guilty," I replied, noticing that she had not yet released my hand. "Well so nice to meet you, Braxton, and thank you for the lovely party - and the free drinks," she giggled, still holding onto my hand. "Now that we're no longer strangers, scoot your chair closer to mine and tell me about that instant boner." Either this woman was drunker than she appeared to be, or she was the freest spirit that I had ever met; maybe both at the same time! "I really wouldn't want this repeated," I mumbled. "I'm an armchair shrink," she chuckled, "I'm sworn to secrecy." Even though more sweat was rolling into my eyes I actually told her my problem. "I haven't had sex with my wife but ten times in the last five years, and none in the last two, because she cut me off. She refuses to acknowledge that she has a problem and won't see anyone about it; and I haven't cheated, so I haven't gotten laid in 719 days - approximately! When I started dancing with you it was the first close contact that I've had with a beautiful woman in almost that long!" She laughed when I said "approximately." "Are you sure that it wasn't 716 days?" she chuckled, and then got serious. She first wiped the sweat off of my brow with a napkin from the table then continued. "Is your wife having an affair?" "No, I had her thoroughly checked out over a three month period and she definitely is not. In fact the P.I. told me that she was their most boring subject ever." "So why haven't you cheated?" "I have two wonderful kids and am not the best actor or most discrete guy in the world, and I'm afraid that if I was exposed that I'd lose the great relationship I presently have with them." "So is her attitude even if I don't want you no one else can have you either?" "Unfortunately - yes. I've hinted around that subject in many conversations we've had where I tried to get her to see a professional, and the vibes I got were bad; really bad." Even though Alicia had been serious a big smile suddenly came across her face. "You know what, Braxton; this may be your lucky night?" "How so?" I asked, puzzled. "I may have the answer to your problem." "Are you a real shrink, not just an armchair one?" "No, I'm a married, horny, completely discrete, sex-machine, modern day Courtesan. I just happen to be in the market for a new lover - since I never have more than one at a time." I was floored. I started looking around. "Are you here with your husband?" "Hell no; she's off on business." "Are you poor?" "Actually, I don't have as much disposable income as I really need or want, but my husband is filthy rich. Unfortunately he is an ass, control freak, legendary cheapskate, and impotent, otherwise I wouldn't be a Courtesan." Undoubtedly slack-jawed, I gawked at her for the longest time. She stared back, unblinking, with a devilish grin on her face. Finally I said "You're not kidding, are you?" "I've never been more serious," she said, her grin gone. "I can tell that there is some interest on your part - let me peak it," she said, her wicked grin returning. With that she stood up, grabbed my hand, and led me out of the hotel ball room to a nearby empty small conference room with no windows. She turned on the light, moved me in front of her with her back to the door, dropped her pashmina, quickly unbuttoned her blouse, and wiggled out of her skirt. Since she had no underwear on she was then completely naked (except for her four inch heels) and - without question - the sexiest looking woman that I'd ever seen in my life. She did a slow pirouette, first to the left, then to the right, so that I got a good look. My eyes were popping out of my head, my sweating started up again, my brain was overloaded - and then she approached me. While gazing into my eyes like a cobra would its prey she quickly fished my dick out, gave it a dozen quick strokes, and my cum jetted out seemingly at a hundred miles per hour, splashing against her stomach, hips and pussy. When I was drained she flipped my cock back into my pants, zipped me up (difficult to do since I was still hard), made a production of with a finger swishing up some of my cum from her body, and then cleaning the cum off her finger as she pursed her ruby lips around it. If I hadn't just cum I would have spontaneously ejaculated! Then she undid my tie, wiped the rest of the cum that I had shot on her body off of her, and tucked the tie in the side pocket of my suit jacket. "A souvenir," she chuckled. She turned, bent over to be sure that I got a good look at her ass and pussy peeking out from between her legs, picked up her clothes and then deliberately got dressed while staring and me and talking at the same time. "I can tell by your reaction that you're hooked. When we get back to the table I'll give you my burner cellphone number; give me a call on Monday at 10:00 a. m. and I'll make arrangements to meet you and explain how it will work," she said, securing the last button on her blouse as she finished. She took me by the hand, turned off the light, led me in my zombie-like state back to the table, wrote her cellphone number and "Alicia" on a piece of paper, and tucked it into my interior suit jacket pocket. Another slow song had just started so she led me back onto the dance floor - I was powerless to do anything but follow her lead - and shoved her right thigh between my legs as she melted into my arms. "The fact that your cock is still hard means that we'll have lots of fun in the future," she giggled into my ear. After another slow dance she looked at her watch, and smiled as she said "My husband's limo is picking me up in five minutes. Don't forget to call at 10:00 a. m. sharp on Monday - I'll be waiting - naked!" After a quick kiss on my lips, she retrieved her pashmina and purse from the table, and with a couple of provocative ass wiggles for my benefit was gone. You better believe that I spanked the monkey that night - not as nice as when Alicia did it, but still rewarding as I fantasied about stroking my cock between her marvelous massive honkers as she moaned and groaned. * * * * * Sunday I was unable to concentrate on anything except Alicia's tits and pussy. Emily was still ill so I took that opportunity to do something completely mindless, and that would help get my mind out from between Alicia's legs. I took the kids to the zoo, then for ice cream, then to the park, and then to their favorite restaurant for dinner. They were completely wiped out by the time that we got home - in fact I had to carry my sleeping four and a half year old daughter Carolyn from the car into the house and her seven year old brother Bradley was almost asleep on his feet. I stuck my head into Emily's room to tell her that we were home, had had fun, and to see how she was. "I'll be better by tomorrow morning," she told me. Then I went into my room and spanked the monkey again, thinking about fucking Alicia doggy while I mauled her oversized mammary glands! Of course I called promptly at ten Monday morning. She answered on the first ring. "Hi Braxton; I like a prompt man." "Oh, did I call exactly at ten?" I laughed. "If you hadn't after Saturday night I would have concluded that you were either dead or gay - and most probably not gay," she laughed. We made arrangements to meet at 1:00 p. m. at an out-of-the way hole in the wall restaurant about ten miles from my office. When I got there, Alicia already had a booth. She was dressed conservatively - for a Courtesan. She knew that she had an overabundance of sex appeal, and she apparently loved putting it on display! She gave me a quick kiss on the lips as she stood to greet me, then as we sat down said "I hope you don't mind, but I've ordered you Today's Special; you'll like it!" I'm not a picky eater, but I'd enjoy it even if it tasted like dog shit to be sure that I pleased her. That entire morning I had rarely thought of anything else except sex with her. Alicia was friendly, but very professional, at the same time as she handed me a burner phone. "Here's how it's going to work Braxton. We don't communicate except with these burner phones - I've already pre-programmed my burner phone's number into yours; it is speed dial #4. I've also had your phone programmed that when you call my number another number is displayed on your screen and reported to the carrier - a neat little trick that cost me $400. When I call you, on your display will be the words 'Chinese Restaurant.'" I nodded my head as I turned the phone over in my hand. "For any voice communications use the "distort" app on the phone and never, ever use either of our names. Also, all communications regarding time and place are in code. This document," she said as she handed me a two page printout, "has all of the codes on it. I suggest that you memorize them and then shred the document. Any codes hard to memorize you can input into your phone." "Should I password protect it?" I asked. "I've already done that; your password is 'GradeAPussy,' all one word, with the "G," "A," and "P" capitalized; that will be really easy for you to remember once you've fucked me," she replied with a smile. I had no doubt of that as I again nodded my head affirmatively. "The price per session is $1,000 payable in cash. During a session we can do almost anything that your little heart desires - unless you are a pain freak, or a total pervert, there is nothing that I won't do for you. A session will last between two and three hours - I'm not a clock-watcher when it comes to sex. If you're too busy to get two hours in you still pay $1,000, but after our first fuck I guarantee you that won't be a problem." I smiled widely. "Speaking of guarantees, if any sex session with me isn't better than any sex session you've ever had with any other woman in your life, then you owe nothing; but if you're an honest man you won't ever be invoking that guarantee. If we ever travel together you cover all of my expenses plus $1,000 per night." After a pause during which we both were smiling she asked "Agreed?" "Hell yes," I said holding out my hand for her to shake. "I'd prefer to agree with a reciprocal genitals squeeze," she snickered as she reached her hand under the table and grabbed and shock my rock hard cock. I located her pussy and pinched it. Money Can't Buy Happiness? "Agreed," we said in unison. Over the food we talked about other details, what places we would normally meet, how she could easily accommodate three sessions a week but that more would be problematic although possible, and the tried-and-true cover stories that I could use with my office and Emily. Between bites of the surprisingly good lunch special she muttered "One thing that you should do, considering your situation, is to tell Emily that you are going to a 'sex-substitute therapist.'" "Is there really such a thing?" I inquired. "Actually, it's total bullshit but like tarot card readers and psychics I know of an organization that has a very convincing website and a totally believable story, including an office. Their office has a back room with a bed and toys in it so that we can also use it as an occasional meeting place. For $200 a week - an extra $200 if we use their facilities - they will make up a total fake but very convincing treatment program, notes on non-existent sessions, and will even send someone to your office to pretend to meet with you. They have both males and females on staff, all of whom are specifically homely so that no one would think that you were having an affair with one of their staff members." "Let me have their card," I said with a smile. After she handed me the card for "Auspicious Sex-Substitute Therapy, Inc." she said "If you're on board when can we meet to get tested for STDs? Obviously there will be no condoms." "Where would we go?" "There's a lab three blocks north of here." "Let's go right now," I said with a big shit-eating grin. We didn't quite finish the Special, but our stomached were sated. I paid and over-tipped (but not so much that I'd be clearly remembered), and we took Alicia's car to the lab. "By the way," Alicia said as we were driving over there, "there's one thing that I forgot to tell you that I need to. My last name is Cavanaugh." I thought for a second; she had a devilish smile; I was wracking my brain trying to think why. When I combined "ass, control freak, and legendary cheapskate," which is how she had characterized her husband on Saturday night, with "Cavanaugh" I almost choked. "Is your husband John Cavanaugh, CEO of ZYK Corporation?" I sputtered. "Yep; the same," she chortled. ZYK was my company's chief competitor in one of our major product lines, and every interaction that I had had with John convinced me that he was a complete asshole. Although I didn't need any extra motivation to fuck Alicia the fact that I'd be fucking the wife of my biggest asshole business competitor hardened my cock even more. I smiled. "Given that fact, you should probably charge more," I chuckled. "Not a very good businessman are you, Braxton?" she chuckled back. When we left the STD lab I was on cloud nine. The money was no object since I had a trust that my grandfather left me when he died shortly after my 18th birthday that I never touched, and Emily didn't even know about. It had well over a million dollars in it on which the tax had already been paid. Also, everything that Alicia had explained to me seemed very logical and professional; I was highly optimistic that we could pull things off without consequences! * * * * * The STD tests came back negative, "99% probability." We scheduled the first session for that Friday at noon at Auspicious Sex-Substitute Therapy, Inc. so that I could do the paperwork that they needed for me to employ them, and to check out their facilities at the same time. Alicia arrived through an inconspicuous side entrance from the parking garage next door while I went in the front entrance. When we went into the room together, Alicia wasted no time. She planted as passionate a kiss as I could ever remember on my lips - like she was kissing my soul - and then proceeded to slowly and methodically remove one piece of her clothing, then one piece of mine. When not kissing me she was smiling and talking softly, then often dirty. "I've really been looking forward to this stud," "Can't wait until your big cock is pumping in my tight little cunt," and "You won't be able to walk right for a week after today," were some of the many enticing little things she alternately said, snarled, or whispered. She took initial control; when I was on my back on the bed with her on top she quickly switched around and stuck her pussy just above my mouth while she started sucking my cock and massaging my balls. I really got into her pussy. It was so delectable with puffy labia and a massive clit, but a tiny slit. She was actually doing what I later found out that she called "therapy" on my genitals, arousing me but not getting me so excited that I came. I wasn't doing "therapy" on her. I was fingering, licking, and sucking up a storm trying to get her to cum as quickly and intensely as possible. Alicia didn't disappoint. She came violently within a few minutes of my tongue first touching her clit, unable to suck while she screamed and swore as she climaxed, though still fondling my balls. Once she stopped shaking, she did a one-eighty degree turn on top of me so that her pussy was above my cock. Without allowing penetration she slid her pelvis back-and-forth on me with her labia stroking my rock-hard dick, which both lubricated my cock and drove me nuts at the same time. I swear that her labia had controllable muscles and that they were squeezing my cock as she slid back and forth over me. Alicia suddenly emitted a long low "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." as her labia spasmed. As soon as that happened she moved her pelvis up, grabbed my cock with one hand, held my cock straight up, and then slowly lowered her incredibly snug pussy onto my cock. We both moaned with each centimeter of penetration. Once I was fully buried she rose into cowgirl position, clamped her powerful sculptured thighs onto the sides of my hips, and started bucking while making eye contact and swearing a blue streak. Her large mammaries were bouncing rapidly as she fucked and I instinctively latched onto them and squeezed and released her nipples. She seemed to really like that. I was having a hard time not blowing like a stick of dynamite because I wanted it to last as long as possible. Once she started squeezing my cock with her pc muscles while she continued her bronco-riding simulation, however, I could hold back no longer. As I loudly grunted I came with the force of a tidal wave. Her herky-jerky movements and yelps left no doubt that she had cum almost as intensely as I had. My cock stayed ensconced in what was now its favorite place in the world and I occasionally lifted my hips and she occasionally contracted her pc muscles. We both were hit by aftershocks, one of them simultaneous and almost enjoyable as our fuck itself. Once she rolled off me we kissed, ran our hands all over each other, and engaged in very sensuous pillow talk. After I recovered we fucked again, with her riding me reverse cowgirl and encouraging me to stick a small lubricated butt plug lying next to the bed into her ass. I couldn't believe it when she got me up a third time - I'm not sure that in my entire life that I ever before got it up three times in such a short period of time - and we fucked missionary, with her flipping around like a landed salmon. After our third fuck, leaning on an elbow while I massaged one of her tits, she chuckled "it's been about two and one half hours, and I don't think that I can get you up again. Is it time for a shower and to arrange our next meeting?" "As long as I can maul your tits in the shower, sounds good to me," I snickered. "Let's go!" she exclaimed as she bounded out of bed and ran into the connected bathroom. We kissed and washed each other off in the shower. Once we got dressed I handed her ten one hundred dollar bills. "Don't need to take advantage of my satisfaction guarantee?" she giggled. "Hell no," I shot back. "My best sex session ever; with number two not even in the same zip code!" We made arrangements for Tuesday of the next week, she exited the side of the building directly into the parking garage, and I exited the front, carrying a copy of my executed contract with Auspicious along with a couple of brochures. * * * * * After a month of fucking Alicia, two or three sessions a week, I was more sexually satisfied than at any other time in my life. Sex with Alicia was everything that I hoped that it could be - and more! The woman really was a sex machine and made me feel like I was the most important person in the world each time that we were together. Emily noticed a change in me. After we put the kids to bed one night, about five weeks after I had met Alicia, Emily actually sat next to me while we watched a DVD. "You seem really chipper recently, Braxton," she said in a pleasant, non-threatening voice. "There's a good reason for that," I replied. "What - are you having an affair?" she asked, with a tone more playful than accusatory. "No - if I was I'd probably be in an even better mood," I responded, looking her directly in the eye. "I have some good news and bad news related to that - would you like to hear it?" "Sure!" "Hold on one second," I said as I got up from the couch, walked into the den, and returned with a brochure from Auspicious. I handed it to her. "I've been in therapy with this organization for the last month - maybe a little bit more," I said, pointing to the Auspicious brochure. "While certainly their therapy is not as good as sex, it is surprisingly successful in taking the edge off. I think that if I continue with it I can make it until the kids go to college without filing for divorce or having an affair." She had been intently studying the brochure until that comment. Then her head snapped up and she looked me in the eye, unsure whether I was serious or teasing. "Uh...what was that, Braxton; I'm not sure that I heard you properly." "I do believe that you did hear me properly Emily. Do you really think that I could go the rest of my life without sex or a substitute for it? If the Auspicious program continues to help me, I won't be filing for divorce until both kids are in college. If I can't make it that long and need to have real sex, I'll tell you before I start an affair. You can decide then whether you want to file for divorce or can stomach it as long as I keep it discrete." I wasn't actually lying to Emily. I was not having an affair; I was fucking a high priced call girl, or - as Alicia liked to call herself - a modern day Courtesan. I could tell that Emily was stunned. I was sure that tears started forming in her eyes before she quickly looked back down at the brochure. She continued to read the brochure - only wiping away her tears once - while she finished her perusal. "This really does help you?" she asked, turning toward me with red eyes, devoid of fresh tears. "So far." "You know this is the first time that you actually mentioned divorce," she replied. "Probably because I love the kids so much and couldn't stand the thought of not being with them every day; but this no sex thing is hard to take. And if things don't change - even if Auspicious allows me to make it the next fourteen years until Carolyn enrolls in college - I will be fucking up a storm soon after that!" Emily was quiet for a long time, pretending to look at the TV, but clearly deep in thought. After a delay of about ten minutes she turned to me, kissed me on the cheek, and said "Thank you for being honest with me. I've got some thinking to do." Then she actually put her head on my shoulder and kept it there until the movie ended. I didn't know what her "thinking" was going to be; but for sure I would not be giving up Alicia. Once you've had rollercoaster/fireworks sex - which is what I described sex with Alicia - you don't go back to vanilla. I thought that it would be ironic if all that I had to do was to mention "divorce" to get her back in the saddle - if, in fact, that is what was going to happen. For the next two months Emily was more affectionate toward me than she had been since Carolyn was born. There still didn't appear to be a reasonable probability of sex, although I considered it still a possibility. No matter what happened, however, I'd still be fucking Alicia twice a week. Speaking of Alicia, things could not possibly have gone better with her. Not only was the sex universally over-the-top, but she was fun to be with and interact with. We actually met for lunch - without sex - several times, and one day when the power went out in my building we went to a movie matinee together. The best time was when we were both at a cause ball with our spouses and I surreptitiously lasciviously ogled Alicia while she was dancing with her asshole husband John and licking her lips while looking at me. I actually went over to talk to John - pretending that I didn't think that he was the biggest asshole in the world - and asked to be introduced to his lovely wife. As I shook Alicia's hand I complimented her on her dress and shoes - both purchased with money that I had paid Alicia, and items that she had modelled for me just two days before the cause ball as she provocatively stripped before we fucked. I was myself surprised how satisfying it was to chat with John with his wife by his side, wearing a dress that I paid for, when she and I knew that we were fucking up a storm and he had no clue! * * * * * It was four days, I believe, after the cause ball when Emily shocked the shit out of me. The kids were in bed and I was about to watch a ball game on TV when she walked up to me, tenderly held my hands, and said "Darling, can we talk. I have finally worked through what we talked about a couple of months ago when you told me that you'd divorce me once Carolyn was in college." "Sure Emily; I'd love to talk. Where should we?" "How about in the den?" she inquired. "Sure," I said. She led me into the den by the hand. That room was the furthest from the stairs leading up to the kids' rooms, and the only one on the first floor of our mini-mansion that had a bed in it, albeit a pull-out one. I was surprised that the bed was pulled out, but we sat on chairs near the desk in the room, not the bed. "I...I...this is really difficult, so stay with me, will you Braxton," she stuttered, while having a hard time making eye contact. "The reason that I've never gone to a psychologist or doctor about my low - actually non-existent - libido is because it is the same thing that my mother has, and despite the fact that she is still going to various practitioners today without success. My father has learned to live with it and he says that he's happy - and I mistakenly thought that you might be able to eventually be content too. After our talk a couple of months ago I realize now that that is not possible." She was starting to tear up a little; but I was not about to intervene. I sat there fairly impassively, with what I hoped was at least a little bit of compassion showing on my face. Emily hesitantly continued. "I...I...I think that I have a solution. Let me ask you this. If I could find a surrogate for you that you were happy with sexually, do you think that you could avoid having an affair and stay with me when I'll need you most - after the children leave?" That was about the last thing that I expected. "Uh...I'm not sure that I heard you right," I muttered. "Can you repeat that?" She did - this time without any hesitation in her voice and making eye contact with me the entire time. "WOW!" I exclaimed. "Maybe...I don't know; of course I've never thought about it. Do you really think that you could find someone who would go along with that, someone who both you and I would be comfortable with?" "I already have found someone who will go along - quite enthusiastically I might add - and who I'm comfortable with. I think that you'll agree too." "I don't know, Emily; this is a lot to digest." "Why don't you see who it is and give it a practice run, and then we'll talk more about it later?" she asked. When I didn't respond she continued "Please be willing to do that." "OK," I replied shrugging my shoulders. I expected that she was talking about something in the future so that I'd have a few days to contemplate it. Not so! She was talking about now! Emily pulled her phone out of her housecoat pocket and mumbled what I thought was "Come on in now," into it, then turned it off and placed it back into her pocket. Two minutes later her younger sister Madeline walked into the room, wearing Daisy Duke shorts, a halter top with a bare midriff, and five inch heels - a look that I had never seen for any member of Emily's family before, and one that I never expected to see. It was a good look, however; a REALLY good look. "Madeline?" I unconsciously blurted out. "Hi Braxton," she replied with a wane smile. "Yes, dear, Madeline," Emily said. "You've always liked her, her divorce was final earlier this week, she has no interest in marriage again, and she has not inherited the same problem that I did from our mother." I didn't really respond - verbally, that is. My cock got rock hard, and they must have seen that because they both smiled as soon as my crotch was at "maximum tent." Emily walked out the door, closing it behind her. "This is really awkward, Braxton; do you want me to leave?" Madeline demurely inquired. "Uh...no...uh...no, Madeline, I don't want you to leave. I just want to know that you and Emily are sure about this." "I'm very sure. It probably is no surprise to you that I've always had the hots for you. And since I have no interest in marrying again, or playing the field - I'd just like some steady cock - I do believe that this is an arrangement that not only will work, but was made in heaven. Let's give it a try to make sure that we're compatible and then go on from there," she seductively replied, while biting a thumb. She slowly took off her halter top, then Daisy Dukes, exposing truly top notch perky little tits and a glistening little slit with a prominent clitoris. I disrobed, almost ripping my boxers trying to get them over my stiffy, then sauntered over to her. "You've been working out," I marveled, looking over her flat stomach and shapely thighs. "So have you," she said, stroking my chest with one finger. Actually, I had been working out, but just with Alicia. However, I had lost five pounds and felt better and more fit than I had in a decade, so I was sure that Madeline was not being facetious. We kissed as I manipulated one nipple, then the other. Once she grabbed my balls I stuck a finger in her soaking wet pussy, causing her to groan into my mouth. I laid her on the pull-out bed and attacked her snatch with my tongue, lips, and all ten fingers. After her second screaming orgasm I buried my cock in her tight little cunt in one thrust. We fucked wildly, both moving body parts vigorously and in all different directions, until with another scream she clamped her pussy on my cock and I exploded into her. We slept together in the den that night, with body contact the entire night. We fucked two more times, once doggy, once spooning when she was darn near comatose. "I could get used to this," I thought with a mouthful of tit the next morning before an alarm on Madeline's smartphone snapped us to attention. We got dressed and went into the kitchen before the kids got there. Madeline put a robe over her Daisy Dukes and halter top since the kids would have been shocked by her appearance. They were thrilled that Auntie M had spent the night - because they liked her, and she spoiled them rotten - of course clueless as to what Auntie M had been doing with Daddy during the night. * * * * * Given Madeline's work and travel schedule, and her desire to keep her own apartment (which I readily understood), she, Emily, and I worked out a routine where she would usually spend Saturday night, and one other night, per week with me. The three of us would go to cultural events and parties together whenever possible, and sometimes I might go out alone with Madeline, or with her and the kids, if Emily couldn't make it. Money Can't Buy Happiness? That fit in perfectly with my two sessions a week with Alicia. I made sure never, ever, to schedule Madeline a night where I had been with Alicia during the day because I would have been wiped out and would not have been able to service Madeline properly. Madeline was the second best - second only to Alicia and not that far behind her - sex partner that I ever had in my life. My sex life went from near-perfect to beyond perfect! So far I've been enthusiastically fucking Madeline and Alicia for going on two years, and life could not be better! I guess that Money can - along with some other things - buy happiness after all!