55 comments/  39820 views/  23 favorites

Swingin' on a Star

By: StangStar06



 Hey Folks, this one is kind of twisty. It's more of a character study than a fable. There are no sterling examples of humanity here, only several very flawed people who make the best of a bad situation. The only thing about this story that is a Sterling example of anything would be the job that Barney-R did in editing it. But I think it's a good story for a cold winter afternoon. SS06

* * * * * *

Life really is funny. Right now, everything is just perfect. I never imagined it would be this way. I mean technically, I should be miserable. 

I should be depressed and living in a dark, musty basement apartment, eating tuna and drinking store brand or no-name beer. 

I should be spending my non-working hours surfing for more and more outrageous Internet porn. My liver should be just about cooked, and I should be contemplating different methods of suicide to end my misery.

However, I'm not. I'm not heartbroken. I'm not miserable. I'm not depressed ... shit I'm not even sad. 

In fact, I'm so happy I feel like I'm swinging on a star. You know like the old Sinatra chestnut. I feel like I'm doing it all. I'm swinging on a star. Carrying moonbeams home in a jar and all of that crap. 

I'm driving a car, a Mustang Shelby GT 350R, that I shouldn't own. At least, I wouldn't if things hadn't gone my way. One of the things I had to do was to lose a hundred and forty pounds of useless fat. 

Even as I begin the thought, my right foot lifts and the beast growls in protest as less fuel is delivered to its hungry motor. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the cruiser. I laugh as I realize what it is. I've never really seen one of these turds ... I mean cars. 

What galls me is that some local police department has actually wasted its money on one. Without flashing its lights the car takes off after me. I slow down even further while trying to see if the lumbering elephant-like vehicle is coming after me. 

So what happens when you take one of the heaviest, least aerodynamic muscle cars on earth and add an even heavier and bigger motor with almost twice the horsepower?

Almost nothing. There are videos all over the Internet of all kinds of cars smoking the aptly named Challenger Hellcats. And someone had the balls to make one into a police cruiser. It pulls up next to me. I pull over to the side of the road to see what he wants; he did not catch me speeding. 

As he exits the car, I notice that he ... is a she. I see long inky black hair, tied up in a bun. The mirrored sunglasses come down revealing crystal blue eyes. She saunters over to my car without any sign of a ticket book. I lower the window.

"Why'd ya stop?" she asked. The honey-like voice makes me think of magnolias and tall, cool glasses of iced tea. 

"That's what you do when you're pulled over by a cop," I said, lowering my own sunglasses. 

"I didn't pull you over," she smirked. "I wuz jest checkin' ya out. Whut is that?" 

"It's a Mustang," I said, proudly. 

"Where's the back seat?" she asked. "Where's the radio?"

"It doesn't have any of those things," I said. "No air conditioning either. There is no extra weigh on it. The only things on the car are the required safety features. Other than that everything that doesn't make the car go faster is gone." 

"How much horsepower," she gushed. 

"Six hundred and sixty," I said. 

"Wanna race," she asked. I laughed. 

"One ... You're a cop," I said. "Two ... I don't do street racing. It's illegal and unsafe." Okay I was lying about that part because she was a friggin' cop. "And three ... that turd you're driving wouldn't stand a chance." 

She laughed herself. "They have to pay me to drive this thing," she said. "It's like driving a bus with racing strips. My car, on the other hand, is a beautiful, sleek Camaro SS." The smile on her face and the accompanying smirk told me everything I needed to know. 

If I wasn't so busy, I would have loved the ensuing chaos. Unfortunately, I had other things on my mind. 

"Rain check," I said? She looked at me, and the smirk faded. It was replaced with a look of concern that touched me. 

"You look like you're driving to your own execution," she said. 

"Something like that," I said. "On the other hand, this might be the best day of my life. Ninety minutes from now I'll either be totally miserable or elated beyond my wildest dreams. Tell you what ... when we race, if you win, I'll tell you the whole story." 

"What happens if you win," she asked. 

"Then we have dinner at a nice restaurant of my choosing," I said. 

"How nice a restaurant," she asked. 

"The dress up type," I said. 

"Shit, that sounds awesome," she smiled. "I might have to let you win." 

I laughed then. "Won't happen and we both know it," I said. "Neither one of us is that type of person." 

She nodded. "See ya later," she said. "And I'll be in a real car, so expect ta get your ass kicked." 

I just laughed. And thought about how much I loved being single and free. It really didn't start out that way. Barely a year ago, the beginning of 2015, I was trying to figure out how to tell my wife, that I wanted to pull the money out of my 401k for the down payment on a Shelby GT 350 R. It went even further. I also wanted to keep the 2012 Mustang GT that I was driving then instead of using it as a trade in. And finally I wanted to take out a home-equity loan to add onto or rebuild our garage. 

It all made perfect sense to me, but I was sure she was going to tell me that I was out of my fucking mind. I could hear her already. "Your 401k money is for OUR retirement," she would say. "We live in fucking Michigan, Ted. Why do we need TWO cars that you can only drive for half of the year? What are you going to do, drive one from May until the middle of July and the other from mid July until October? Or will you drive both of them for the entire summer? One on weekdays and the other will be your weekend car. 

Yep, Elaine was going to think I was nuts; especially when she found out that I would probably be paying for the GT 350R for the next six years. She would really flip out when she found out that it didn't have a radio or air conditioning or a back seat. I had decided to wait until after the party to tell her. 

The party was a big event for our circle of friends. It was, of course, the way we all got together to watch the super bowl. The game featured the New England Patriots, fresh from "deflate gate," and another team of cheaters, the team whose over use of ADHD drugs had earned them the nickname, "the Sea-Aderol Sea Hawks." 

We all had heavy bets on the game as usual. Every year at the end of the party, we threw everyone's name into a bucket and the person who hosted the party pulled one out. The lucky person, whose name was pulled, hosted the party the next year. 

This year the party was being held by my next-door neighbor Mickey and his wife Samantha. Most of the couples in our circle were bringing some sort of food item or other party need. We all looked forward to the party each year. We all got together frequently through the year, but our Super Bowl parties were legendary and open only to a small group of about six couples. 

Most of us grew up in our small Michigan city, or married someone who did. This was a big event for Mickey. Let's just say that Mickey was kind of the low man on the totem pole of our group. 

Most of the guys made fun of Mickey because he was the least athletic and least successful one of us. Okay, I may as well admit it. Mickey is, first of all, a really big nerd. And secondly he's a REALLY BIG nerd. Mickey is a fat guy. 

He was kind of like the mascot of our group, so a lot of the guys made fun of him and played jokes on him. I never did. I neither made fun of Mickey nor played any kind of mean jokes on him. I guess it was mostly because I saw how badly some of those jokes hurt him. 

Mickey and his wife Samantha lived next door to me. We traded off favors and helped each other with projects at each other's condos. 

Hosting the party was a big thing for Mickey. He saw it as a chance to gain a degree of respect from the guys we hung around with. He was tired of always being the butt of their jokes. Mickey had asked me to borrow some of the small tables I had on my deck; that way people who didn't want to watch the game and just wanted to be at the party to eat and share some camaraderie could hang out in his sun room. It was too cold in Michigan in February to be outside, but his sunroom was nice all year round. 

As usual, on a day that I didn't have to go to work, I stayed in bed long after Elaine was up and about. I vaguely remember Elaine saying something about going over to help Samantha get ready for the party. 

My first thought after eating, was the fact that it was a Sunday. For me, Sunday meant one thing above everything else; washing my car. Since I would be at the party for most of the day and evening, I decided to do it while Elaine was out so I didn't have to hear her bitching about it. 

Elaine thought that it was a waste of time for me to wash my Mustang when it was the middle of winter and the car never left my heated garage until late spring or early summer. She thought that it was even stupider, since the car had a car cover to prevent dust from getting on it. For me, it was a habit. 

I got all of my car wash products and my orbital polisher out and ready. I tuned my iPod to my favorite car washing playlist and started. 

Since no one had been inside of the car since I washed it the previous week I decided to forgo the interior. 

It always amazed me that the car could pick up dust while under the cover. While washing the car, I always let my mind wander and was usually amazed at what I came up with. 

It was that morning that I came up with the perfect way to get Elaine in the mood for me buying another Mustang. 

Elaine had been telling me for months that it was time for us to start having kids. We needed to start looking for a house and move out of our condo because with a child or children, we'd need more space and a big back yard for them to play in. I knew that she envisioned a future with a big house, and me trapped behind the wheel of a lawn mower, as big as a fucking tractor. I'd spend all of my free time when I wasn't plowing that massive lawn, taking care of a swimming pool or doing other stupid projects around the house. 

I had no idea how to tell her that I was not Tim the tool man Taylor. I don't know shit about plumbing and had no interest in learning. I would much rather spend a Saturday polishing my car, than polishing or refinishing a wood floor. 

Whenever we went to the mall, Elaine was always telling me that if I got bored, I could always go look around Home Depot, and she would call me or come and find me. She always looked at me like I was crazy when I told her that I had no interest in going inside of a Home Depot. 

"My father loves Home Depot, Teddy," she always said. "It's a guy's store. They have tools and stuff." 

"Your father drives a Honda," I told her. 

"And he gets all of his tools for the car at Home Depot," she said proudly totally missing my point. 

"So, Home Depot sells teeny-tiny little plastic wrenches?" I ask with a serious look on my face. "Do they only sell them in pink or do they have the baby blue ones too?" Of course, it went totally over her head. To Elaine, anything she isn't interested in is just irrelevant. 

But that morning I realized that if I told Elaine, that I needed to go ahead and buy my last Mustang, because we needed to start putting away money towards the house and the kids, she'd look at it as a last gasp of my childhood type of thing. She would see it as me becoming more mature and leaning on her side of things. I could even tell her that I needed to buy a good one and not drive it very often, for the sake of practicability. I was pretty sure that making it sound like I was beginning to think about things the way she saw it, would probably work. 

After I finished polishing my car, and figuring out the way, I was going to deliver my proposition to Elaine, I was feeling good. I was looking forward to a great game and also to someday soon driving the car that many magazines were calling the ultimate Mustang of all times. And come on, I wasn't an idiot. I knew that next year or the year after that there'd be a new ultimate Mustang of all time. However, I just wanted this one. After that, Elaine could become the baby factory she wanted to be and hell, we could even buy a house. I was going to need a bigger garage anyway. 

I went into the house to order a few pizzas for the party. On super bowl Sunday, it was important to get your orders in early. After I had arranged for the delivery, I started moving the tables. 

We had a gate in the fence between the two yards that made things easier. I carried two of the small tables onto Mickey's porch. I was as quiet as I could be. I wanted to load and arrange all the tables there without him knowing it. 

As I turned to leave, a movement from inside of the condo caught my eye. There was a small space between the drawn drapes where I could look inside. Human curiosity being what it was; I peeked. 

I saw a slim but well rounded ass moving from side to side as the woman the ass belonged to crawled across the floor of Mickey's Den. The pre-game shows were already playing on the giant TV on the opposite side of the room. 

It definitely wasn't Samantha's ass. Samantha is a much bigger woman. I've always thought that Mickey was blessed to have Samantha. She was much better than he deserved. Samantha is a bigger woman, but she's so pretty her size doesn't matter. She has that perfect hourglass shape that all men love. It makes your dick hard as soon as you see her no matter what she's wearing. 

Her boobs are huge and her butt is round but it's actually her face that you can't look away from. She has wild unrestrained jet-black hair, and her tanned skin comes from her Hispanic heritage. Every time I see her, I wonder what the hell she's doing with a clown like Mickey. 

At the last barbecue we had last summer, I must've spent at least an hour staring at her ass as she bent over the grill, tending to the meat. Samantha's ass is a work of art. 

But the ass I watched crawling across that floor wasn't hers. It was some skinny chick that was much lighter than Samantha. I couldn't believe that asshole was cheating on Sam. I always knew that Mickey was a loser, but cheating on the best thing in his life was just stupid. 

I had glimpsed Mickey through the drapes before I was distracted by thoughts of Samantha. However, now looking at him, I went into shock. Fat ass Mickey, the neighborhood joke was standing in front of the closed door to the room. Fat assed Mickey's dick had to be a foot long. It was as thick around as my forearm, and he was waving it around in front of the woman crawling towards him. 

I couldn't make out the words he was saying, but his gestures were really clear. He pointed at the floor ordering the woman crawling towards him onto her belly. It was even more humiliating as she went down onto her stomach, yet continued to crawl towards that huge dick as if she was a drug addict, and it was her fix. 

As I watched she reached him and grabbed for it. She tried to take it into her mouth, but it was simply too big. Suddenly, everything in my stomach came up. I vomited all over Samantha's rose bushes.

I looked back inside, just in time to hear a scream as Mickey tried to force his huge organ into the slit between the legs of the no longer crawling woman. I couldn't tell if her scream was from pain or pleasure but after a few moments, it became clear. She pushed Mickey onto his back and lowered herself faster and faster until their bodies were slapping together so quickly and so hard that the ripples across Mickey's fat belly moved like ocean waves across a beach. 

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car pulling up in Mickey's driveway. I looked around the edge of the porch in time to see Samantha grabbing bags out of the car. Maybe that was when my mind snapped. 

Right then I thought back to those corny old movies I used to see when was a kid. Whenever I was sick and stayed home from school, I ended up watching a lot of old movies from the forties. I wasn't really into them at first, but even though I had a TV in my room, it wasn't hooked up to the cable, so I had very few channels to choose from. 

Whether or not I want to admit it those old movies affected me a lot. They were always about people and the way they dealt with their problems. The heroes in those movies didn't have always to resort to violence like they do in the movies now. Sometimes the guys in those movies just made the best of a really shitty situation. When life gave them lemons, they made lemonade. And they always seemed to realize that as bad as things were, they could always be worse. They seemed to be able to find the bright side of almost anything. 

And that was when I started whistling that song. 

"So would you like to swing on a star? Carry moonbeams home in a jar. 

And be better off than you are. You could be swinging on a star." 

I went back through the gate into my yard. I forgot all about the game. It no longer mattered. I made a couple of phone calls and gathered as many trash bags as I could find. I heard a lot of people arriving at Mickey and Sam's house and a couple of times; people knocked on my door. 

I never answered it. I guess the game was probably on when I went back into the garage. My garage was heated so I wasn't suffering or anything like that. But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'd have noticed anything in the state I was in. 

"I thought I'd find you out here," she said. Somehow I knew it would be her. As I looked towards her, I saw her push back a long errant lock of hair. 

"You're missing a great game," she said. "The half-time show is about to start. And your wife is upset with you. She told us you were probably out here playing with your car and adding some kind of super turbo thingy on it and just lost track of time." 

"Samantha, have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" I asked her. She just smiled and looked away shyly. 

"Hurry up and do whatever it is you're doing," she gushed. "I saved you some of your pizza." 

* * * * * *

Elaine

I don't understand football. I mean I know the basics. I know about the touchdown and the field goal, but the rest is just a blur. I only go to the party each year to socialize. I don't really understand why the men get so excited about it. A couple of the women do too. But I guess it's better than watching NASCAR with Ted. Anything beats NASCAR. I don't understand how my hubby can get excited about watching guys driving in a circle for three hours. 

By the end of the first twenty minutes, I no longer care whether it's Billy Bob, Cole Trickle, or Luke Duke in the lead. For a while I just watched to make sure, Danica didn't win. I hate that bitch. I have no idea why NASCAR tries to force that woman down our throats. She is clearly just a marketing ploy. They need to realize that women are smart enough to recognize how transparent they are. 

In two years of racing NASCAR, she has never come close to winning. Her greatest moments in the sun are usually when all the leaders decide to make a pit stop, and she suddenly finds herself in first place, by accident. While that's going on they make all kinds of announcements about it. It's like the zoo letting everyone know that a trained monkey has learned to recognize a word. Usually, the word has something to do with food. 

The announcers are so happy they're giddy."Lookie heah y'all," they proclaim. "Danica is leading the race." We all know that she isn't going to win. As soon as the good drivers come back from the pits, they pass her one by one until she's back in the rear of the pack. It's as inevitable as winter following fall. 


Swingin' on a Star



I guess more women would like her, if she hadn't dumped her husband for another driver as soon as she got into NASCAR. I guess more men would like her if she wasn't such an iron-clad bitch. 

As I walk into the condo that I share with my husband Ted, I'm full of righteous indignation. Ted is going to pay for leaving me alone at our neighbor's place for the entire evening. I mean I know he loves that fucking car, but this was just too much. He probably took one of our smaller TVs or his iPad out to the garage and watched the game with that fucking car. Well, he's going to pay for it. I haven't decided if I want dinner at my favorite restaurant or a new outfit yet. Jewelry is not off the table either. 

While walking through the house looking for him, I almost tripped over a trash bag. Why the hell does he have a bunch of trash bags all over the fucking house? I just cleaned the place up yesterday. He'd better have a good explanation for this weird behavior. 

I finally found him in the one place that I knew he'd be. He looked up as I approached him and the look on his face was so sad that I almost fell for it. I really do love him. He's a great husband. He's handsome; he has a good job, and he clearly loves me. I can't think of a single man on earth that I would rather be married to. I decided to listen to his explanation before demanding jewelry. He's never done anything like this before. 

"Let me guess," I said softly. "You got out here with your car and the two of you got to talking and you just lost track of time? Or did you just decide to watch the game with your car, so you could explain football to it instead of me?" 

He looked up at me with the saddest look on his face, and I realized that this was serious. Even most super villains aren't going to stomp on a guy when he's already down and out. And that was how Ted looked. 

"Why Teddy," I asked in a softer voice. "Why didn't you come to the party? Everyone wondered where you were. It was embarrassing to be at the party without you. Our friends kept asking me if everything was alright with us, and I didn't ..." 

He turned and looked at me so suddenly that I stopped talking in mid sentence. The expression on his face was a new one. Ted and I were born only weeks apart. We were both thirty years old and had been together for ten years and married for eight. 

It had been love at first sight for both of us, and we had moved in together within weeks of meeting. After ten years together I knew every quirk, foible, tick, and idiosyncrasy that this man had. But the look on his face was one I had never seen before. At least, I had never seen it directed towards me. 

He looked at me as if I was some sort of rare insect that he was studying. It was as if he had never seen me before and was trying to figure me out. It took me a few seconds to recognize what was missing from his gaze. Then I realized that it was the love. My husband was looking at me as if I was just some woman he had run into at the supermarket and wanted to get away from. 

Usually when Ted looked at me, I could feel the love from across the room. His gaze had that combination of awe at how beautiful he found me, and pride that I was his in it. But all of that was gone. I might as well have been Danica fucking Patrick from the way he looked at me. 

"I guess I was just in shock," he said slowly. He spoke as if he was having trouble grouping words into sentences. 

"What were you shocked about?" I asked. "Did you break your car?" 

"No, it wasn't that bad," he said. "I was just shocked at going over to the condo next door to drop off the tables for the party. While I was dropping off the first couple of tables I looked in through the drapes hoping Mickey was there, and he could help me with the table and chairs." He paused and took a break as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. 

"Instead, I saw you, bare ass naked, crawling across the floor on your belly like some kind of degraded worm just so you could suck Mickey's dick ..." 

I heard his words, and they registered but everything just went black. I didn't actually faint; I was just out on my feet. For a long time neither of us said anything. When I regained the ability to make conscious thoughts, it seemed as if years had passed, but it couldn't have really been more than a few seconds. 

Ted was no longer looking at me. Instead, his focus was back on his car. He stood up suddenly and went into the house leaving me there to stare at his car myself. It really was a pretty car. I could see why he loved it. 

I followed him into the house, hoping he would listen to me. 

"Ted, it didn't mean anything," I said. Realizing even as I said it how stupid it sounded. But it was, in fact, a statement of truth. What I had done with Mickey meant nothing. I didn't love Mickey. I didn't even like him very much. I certainly didn't prefer him to my husband. 

Even while the words were coming out I knew that while the act itself in the grand scheme of things didn't have any deep emotional importance to me, it did mean a lot. It could mean the loss of Ted's trust. It could mean the loss of his love. It could mean the end of my marriage and my happiness. 

I had marched into the house ready to demand jewelry, and now I was ready to beg for forgiveness. Things really can change quickly. 

"Elaine, I think you should leave for a while," he said calmly. "I packed all of your clothes to make it easier for you." 

"Leave ...?" I asked in shock. "But why?" He just lifted one eyebrow and looked at me as if I was stupid. Even as I asked the question, though I realized how stupid it sounded. 

"Ted, Honey, I don't want to leave," I whined. My voice was louder than I expected, and I noticed the way he bristled when I called him honey. I really fucked up. 

"Maybe you should go and visit your sister for a while," he said. "I need time to think." 

"Ted I hate my sister," I said. "And her boyfriend is always staring at me." 

"Try not to fuck him too," he spat. From the look in his eyes and the hurt, I saw there, I realized that I was in a fight. All the love and trust that we had built over ten years was gone. From the way Ted looked at me, I was far beneath even the lowest of the lowly sluts we knew. He saw me as some sort of desperate dick seeking missile, and I had to try to explain things to him. 

"Ted, we need to talk, honey," I said. "I can explain this ..." 

"Elaine, I don't want an explanation," he said. "I just want you gone so I can think. He suddenly stood up. The anger he was feeling added speed and force to his movements. 

"Fuck it, then," he said loudly. "If you won't leave, I will." 

The only thing I wanted less than to have to leave myself was for Ted to leave. If I left and he stayed, I would always know where he was. If he left, he could go anywhere. 

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the bottom dropped out of the situation. 

"Are we interrupting anything?" he asked. I turned to see Mickey carrying one of our patio tables back with Samantha right behind him carrying another. 

For a second, nothing moved. The four of us stood there looking at each other. There was a perfect instant of equilibrium where everything and anything was possible. During that instant Ted could have decided not to share our problems with our friends. He could also have decided not to talk about it in front of Samantha and possibly ruin their marriage as well. He could have taken Mickey out to the garage to discuss it away from the women, as he usually did when he wanted to do some stupid car thing that I wouldn't understand. Or he could have simply told them that we were fine. 

However, Ted did none of those things he crossed the distance between himself and Mickey like a bolt of light. Mickey just stood there looking even more stupid than usual. While we were at the party, one of our friends had taken a permanent magic marker and drew a beard, mustache, and bushy eyebrows on Mickey while he had dosed off. Another was about to use a red marker as lipstick, when Samantha had come back into the room. She made both of them leave immediately. Their dates were really unhappy about it. Samantha always defended Mickey. And she always forgave him no matter what stupid thing he did. 

Mickey stood there with that stupid look on his face as Ted zoomed across the room. With his left hand, he slapped the patio table that Mickey was holding causing him to drop it. His right hand cocked itself and shot forward so fast I could barely see it. Ted was moving so fast it seemed like he was in slow motion. His fist arced into Mickey's jaw, and I heard and felt the impact from across the room. 

On TV when someone delivers a powerful punch, the person they hit goes flying across the room. This was far more brutal than that. This was like one of those championship boxing matches. Mickey's eyes rolled back in his head. Then his body shuddered; his knees quivered as if he was losing his balance, and Mickey, all three hundred pounds of him collapsed onto my kitchen floor. 

Samantha, like some sort of warrior goddess, ran over and stood between Ted, and what was left of Mickey. I guess this is a good time to admit that I secretly hate Samantha. 

On paper, I should be prettier than she is. I mean, when you think about it, I have all the usual things to put me above her. Her hair is dark. I'm a natural blond. Her skin is tanned or dusky; I'm fair skinned. She's a big girl. I'm slim and petite. I have all of the attributes that men want. But it's only on paper that I come out ahead. 

In reality, that mane of dark hair of hers is so long and so thick that I'd give anything to have it. She always complains about how unruly it is, and how she can't do anything with it except occasionally to put it into a ponytail that then goes nearly to her ass. What that hair is, is sexy. I think she only acts like she doesn't know it. 

Half of the women in our circle spend hours tanning just trying temporarily to get our skin to look like hers does naturally. We also try diet after diet, because we never want to be fat. But all of our husbands are mesmerized by Samantha's body. 

And truthfully, it's not her fault. She doesn't flaunt herself. There are times when everyone is sitting around the pool, with all of the women in swim suits. The smaller women among us wore more revealing suits. Some of us even had the courage to wear thong bikinis. And there was Samantha, perched beside her fat loser husband in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. 

It had to be 96 degrees out that day, and everyone was urging her to put on a suit. 

"Why so you guys can make fun of my fat?" she asked. 

"Sam, we're all friends," said one of the bikini-clad women. "We just want you to be comfortable. Just relax." 

Several others joined in. I think the women just wanted a chance to flaunt their thin bodies, but the men just wanted a look at her huge breasts. 

Samantha came back out to the pool a few moments later wearing a one-piece suit that while modest, changed the mood around the pool. 

Her boobs weren't only substantial; they were immune to the effects of gravity. They stood right up without a bra. I'm not sure if it was nervousness about wearing the swim suit in public, or just a chill but her nipples were standing straight up, and as soon as they saw her most of the guys had to sit down to avoid embarrassment themselves. 

Almost everyone stopped talking and stared at nearly a foot of cleavage that the v-neck of her suit revealed. Her large thighs were so well-toned that she had no cellulite on them, anywhere. Her legs and calves while thick were so well shaped that it was obvious what the guys were thinking. And her ass was a work of art. It was tight and round and quivered with every step. Each time she moved, her long beautiful hair slapped against that ass. Her ass, like a body-builder's biceps moved and rippled and drew attention to itself. 

I don't know what we'd expected. But no one made fun of Samantha's body. In fact, a lot of the smaller women, in an attempt to draw attention away from their lack of pulchritude, put on cover-ups. 

I think the most damning thing about that experience though was the fact that none of the women went into the pool ... except Samantha. Most of our suits cost hundreds of dollars and couldn't get wet without being ruined. There was also the fact that most of us had spent hours in front of a mirror getting our make-up to look like we weren't wearing make-up. One dip in that water and our entire look would be ruined. And I don't even want to discuss what would happen to our hairstyles. 

Samantha jumped in and out of the pool with the enthusiasm of a child. If we hoped that her make-up would run and her hair would be ruined, we were severely disappointed. Samantha lined up and Cannon-balled with the men. Then she emerged from her self-dunking, even prettier. 

Her make-up was still perfect because she wasn't wearing any. Her hair was unreal. Once it got wet, it formed all sorts of waves and ringlets that had several of the women there staring at her in open-mouthed shock. 

Her joy at the fun she was having was contagious. She herself quipped about how she had made the biggest splash of all in the pool because of her weight. No one could look away from her breasts though. The shock of the cold water made her nipples even more pronounced, and it was those that the guys found their open-mouthed adoration at. 

The worst thing about it was the fact that Samantha made every woman there realize how catty and fake we all were. When something was funny ... she laughed. She didn't do one of those fake lady-like little cutesy titters. She had a rich full-bodied belly laugh that showed off that honest-to-goodness happiness. 

When she ate, she didn't just fill a half a plate with salad and a tiny corner of her man's burger. I don't think Samantha knew what a fuckin' salad was. She ate burgers and hot dogs and chips with the guys and drank a beer herself. 

By the end of the evening, all the women who'd wanted to pump themselves up by showing off their bone-thin bodies were sorely disappointed. I think we all came away from it realizing that in almost every way, we, not she, were somewhat less than. 

I think to sum it up using all adjectives that began with "F," we were "FAKE," but Samantha was "FIERCE." 

And I saw a bit of that fierceness, standing there in my kitchen. As I watched her place herself between her knocked-out loser of a husband and my enraged spouse, I hated her even more. Sam had no idea why Ted had just knocked the fuck out of Mickey, but she would do anything she had to protect him. 

At the same time, her face radiated both confusion and intelligence. "Why," she asked. Her single word, distilling an entire conversation down to its essence. 

Fuck I wished I was her. Perhaps that was what it all boiled down to. We all at times wish we were someone else. We all want to be Bill Gates, or Tom Brady or Kate Upton. I just wanted to be Samantha. 

She reached out one hand and gently placed it on my husband's shoulder. He collapsed. All of the anger he had been holding in dissipated instead of exploding. The next thing I knew she had wrapped her arms around him and was hugging him while he told her what he had seen that afternoon. 

I watched in shock as her beautiful face went through several transformations. This woman was clearly a warrior. I saw rage, shock, sadness, and sympathy all cross her face within seconds as she took my husband's hand and sat him down at our kitchen table. She cradled his head on those huge udders, and I felt anger of my own. 

I heard her tell him that we all needed to sit down and talk about the situation. She told him that he didn't want to make any rash decisions that could make things worse. 

"Things can't get any fucking worse!" he screamed. She calmed him down with a touch. Samantha clearly had more control over my husband than I'd ever had. Knowing that only made me hate her more. But while she was arguing for reason and helping me, I wasn't going to interrupt her. 

If I thought that she was without anger, I was wrong. Mickey moaned as he began to regain consciousness, and one of those well-shaped legs snapped out and kicked him so hard that he moved. The fury on her face as she told him to get his ass up and go home wasn't lost on me. Especially as she looked across the kitchen and found my eyes. 

The look she gave me said it all. I had been someone she'd considered a friend. I had betrayed her as well as my husband, and she didn't take that lightly. I left the kitchen and went into the living room while Mickey got up and slunk away out of the back door. 

For the next forty minutes or so, I heard them talking. Their voices were low, and I couldn't make out anything that they were saying. The voice I heard the most often was hers. 

After a while, they appeared in the doorway. At about the same time our doorbell rang. Neither of them moved so I got up to answer it. 

My sister Carol stood there looking confused. She looked me over and after determining that I had no obvious bruising started talking. "So there's trouble in paradise, huh? It's good to see that you guys have problems sometimes too." 

No one said anything, so she reached down and grabbed a couple of bags. "Jeezus, I thought you only wanted to stay for a couple of days," she said. "This seems like a hell of a lot of clothes for a couple of days." 

"I actually didn't want to leave at all," I said, more for Ted's benefit than hers. 

"Then why are you leaving," she spat. "What did he do? Who's she? He didn't hit you did he? Because if he slapped you around, he should be the one to leave." 

"He didn't ..." I began. But before I could finish my answer, she was on again. 

"So he cheated on you then?" she asked. "With her?" I just grabbed a couple of bags myself and led her out the door. As I got to the door, I turned and spoke to Ted for the first time. 

"Ted, Honey, I really love you. I'm more sorry than you can ever know for what I did. Please forgive me. I know that you need some time to get past this but don't shut me out," I said. 

Ted just turned and went back into the kitchen. "Elaine, how about if the four of us get together, here, in three days to talk," said Samantha. 

"Three days," I exploded! "We haven't been apart for more than a day since we met. Are you out of your ...?" I swallowed my words and then started again as tears sprang to my eyes. 

"How are we supposed to get past this if we don't talk about it?" I asked. 

"We need time, Elaine," said Samantha. "Ted is really hurt. He's in shock. He's not thinking clearly. He needs some time to process all of this and try to figure out what he wants to do. He needs to figure out how he wants his life to be, and whether or not there's a place for you in it." 

"Of course he wants me in it!" I spat. "I just made a mistake. It was just a dumb ..." 

"Holy shit, Sis, YOU cheated on HIM," gushed my sister! "That was sooooo dumb!" Even as she began to laugh at me. We heard a voice from next door. 

We looked outside and saw Mickey. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of our house, afraid to come any closer. "Sam, my face hurts," he said. 

"Good," she spat! "Go back inside the house!" 

My sister erupted into hysterical laughter then. "You cheated with the Stay Puff Marshmallow man," she chuckled. I grabbed more bags and pushed her out to the car. 

The next three days were hell. I called in and told my boss that I was going through a family crisis and needed the week off. He told me that I only had two days of vacation time coming so the rest would have to be unpaid leave. 

I sat around with Carol, crying my eyes out while she tried to draw the details out of me. Her boyfriend Alan obviously knew what was going on because he kept looking at me and trying not to laugh. By the second day, I got Carol to run me home, so I could get my car. Once there I told her she could go back, and I would be back to her place later. 




Swingin' on a Star



I parked a few houses down the street and got out the binoculars I had bought. I had about fifteen minutes before Ted usually got home from work. 

I had called his job that morning and had been surprised to find that he was still going to work. As I waited, a light snow began to fall. The snow got heavier as I waited. I had to start running my engine to warm up the car, but Ted hadn't come home yet. It was almost two hours later than he should have been home when I finally saw his Jeep coming down the street. I trained my binoculars on our porch. Through the high-powered lenses, Ted's face was so close that it felt like I could reach out and touch him. 

I saw him pick up the note I had written to him and stuck on our door. My heart lurched as he simply balled it up and threw it into the snow without even bothering to read it. 

The pain on his face was evident even through the binoculars. It made me feel even worse. One of the biggest things about cheating is that after it's all over you realize that it was never really worth it. 

You never think that you'll be caught. And you certainly never think about the pain it will cause the people you love. Seeing Ted like this hurt me badly. One of the worst things about it all was that I noticed that Ted didn't stop by the garage to check on his car. Somehow his pain made my usual healthy, strong, confident husband, smaller and weaker. Even his Mustang didn't seem to matter. I started crying. For years, I had wondered how Ted would be without me. What would his life be like if I died in an accident or something? I often joked that as long as he had that fucking car, he'd be okay. 

Sitting there in the middle of a winter storm watching him from half a block away I realized how stupid I'd been. That car had never been any more important to Ted than my jewelry or my furniture was to me. The car was a thing. Ted loved that Mustang, but I was in his heart, and I had done my best to break that heart. 

Just before I pulled off to drive back to my sister's house. I saw Mickey come out and start to shovel the snow in front of his house. I wondered what the hell had been wrong with me. And then it happened. Samantha came out of her unit and went over to ours. She didn't bother even speaking to Mickey as she passed him; she knocked on our door and went inside. I was suddenly extremely jealous. 

Mickey finished the snow in front of his condo and started doing ours. Ted came out and yelled at him to stop. He clearly didn't want Mickey doing anything for him. I realized then that what Mickey and I had done had long-term ramifications. For years, Ted and Mickey had helped each other with yard work and everything else. They had their differences like most long term friends, and a lot of the time cutting each other's grass or shoveling a heavy snow went a long way towards mending those minor tiffs. But this time was different. Ted was refusing to accept even the smallest gestures of apology. 

It made me hurt in another way. Ted and Mickey had been friends, even before I met and married Ted. Besides delivering a hard blow to my marriage, I had possibly destroyed a friendship that had lasted for most of their lives. As Mickey took his snow shovel back inside of his condo, I knew exactly how he felt. 

I drove back to my sister's house with a lot on my mind. I called Samantha and tried to pretend that I hadn't seen her go into my condo that evening. She was pretty frosty at first. I told her that I had called to apologize to her for what I had done and for betraying her trust. 

"I'm sorry if I sound catty or bitchy," she said. "But this has gotten totally out of hand. I spoke to the asshole I'm married to, and I found out everything. I guess this really isn't totally your fault. As a matter of fact, Mickey suddenly realized that you shouldn't have been included in this anyway." 

"I ... I don't understand," I said. "What do you mean I shouldn't have been included?" 

"I made Mickey tell me everything," she said. My heart lurched because Mickey had made me do some pretty degrading things. 

"It was all about revenge," she said. "For most of his life, Mickey has been the butt of every joke by most of the guys he knows. It started when he was ten with whoopee cushions and "kick me," signs. Throughout his teens, the jokes got worse and more vicious. Mickey had to just grin and bear it, so they'd think he was a good egg. If he didn't, they started not including him in their activities. So he had no choice, he decided he'd rather be a part of the crowd and be laughed at, than not be a part of the group. 

"Don't get me wrong, I love Mickey. I always have. Sure I wish he had more on the ball. I wish he had more get up and go, but he accepts me for what I am and loves me back. And until this happened, I never thought he'd cheat on me. I guess I can understand his motivation. I just hate what he did about it. And including you has ruined things for him." 

"I still don't ..." I began. 

"Elaine, Mickey is rather well endowed, but I guess you already know that," she said. "A certain type of woman responds to that in a ... well ... extremely positive way. And Mickey decided to use his uhm ... anatomy to seduce some of the women in our circle." 

"I guess it was kind of a "he who laughs last, laughs best," ploy. You might have noticed that some of the men at the Super Bowl party not only didn't participate in making jokes against Mickey, they also discouraged others from doing so." She cleared her throat. 

"Those men already know that Mickey was fucking their wives and had turned them into size queens. In exchange for not fucking their wives anymore, they dissuade their friends from jokes or pranks against Mickey," she said. 

"But I thought that Mickey and Ted were really friends," I said. 

"They were," she said. "And Mickey hopes with all of his heart that they will be again when this is all over. In your case, things were different. Mickey never wanted to hurt Ted. He just wanted to try you out. Mickey has that blond cheerleader fetish really bad. He thought that you were just too pretty to pass up. He just wanted to screw you a few times and have you dress up in a cheerleader outfit and film himself fucking you. He was bringing you along slowly, but Ted saw the two of you, and now it's all out in the open." 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"Most of the time when Mickey told the guys that he was fucking their wives, they got angry. But in the end, they agreed to keep it all quiet. You probably notice that a few of the couples at the party were very distant. Shit, some of them barely spoke to each other. The men were acting cocky, but it was all an act. The women, on the other hand, had that hang dog look, like they were walking around on eggshells around their own husbands. And you're probably going to hear that two of the couples we regularly hang out with are planning on moving out of the area." 

"But why," I asked. "I saw on TV that at some time during a long marriage, almost fifty percent of couples deal with an incident of infidelity. A lot of them are able to put it behind them and stay together. You just have to want it badly enough. You just have to love each other enough." 

"Come on Elaine, you aren't that stupid. Most of the couples that survive are cases where the man was the one who cheated. In most of those cases, he was also the breadwinner and there were children involved. This is a completely different situation because not only were the wives the ones who cheated, but they cheated simply because Mickey has a really big dick. That crushes a man's ego like almost nothing else." I thought about it and realized that she was probably right. 

"So rather than let everyone find out that they've been cuckolded these guys just pretend, "in public," that everything is normal in their marriages. None of them know that they're all going through the same shit." 

"What my poor dumb ass husband fails to realize is that these guys are not going to take what he did lying down. On the surface, they're all beaten and doing what he wants. However, I'll bet each, and every one of them is plotting some sort of revenge against him. As I said two of the couples are moving away as soon as the husbands can find new jobs. Those women are even stupider than their men. Neither of those couples, have children. Once they're away from our town where everyone knows them, how long do you think it'll be before the husbands file for divorce?" 

"But you said that Ted brought everything into the open," I said. "As far as I know no one has heard about us except for the four of us and my stupid sister." 

"Ted doesn't give a half a damn about how big Mickey's dick is," she said. "Ted isn't driven by his ego, dummy. Ted is driven by his heart. That man loved you more than anything else in his life. He feels that love has been tainted ... to him your marriage is pretty much over. He's leaning towards a divorce. He doesn't care who knows about it. All he wants is for the pain to stop. He just wants to start over." 

"We can do that," I said. "We can move away and start over, just like those other couples, but without the divorce." 

"So that's what you need to convince him of when we all get together to talk tomorrow evening," she said. 

As I hung up the phone my stomach was all twisted up in knots. I hadn't even bothered to ask her the question that I originally called her to find out. I just didn't understand it. It seemed crazy to me. Ted wanted to divorce me after ten years over one stupid mistake? 

And Samantha made no sense at all. I couldn't understand or follow her logic. The husbands who cared far less about their wives than Ted did me, were staying with them, while Ted, who loved me so completely wanted to throw my ass on the scrap heap? How exactly did that work? 

I had twenty-four hours to plan and prepare to save my marriage. I needed to use it wisely. 

I woke up the next morning and started working out what I would say to Ted. I prepared facts, studies, and statistics. I also got the name of a really good marriage counselor and arranged for us to see her. I was sure that I had a good chance of keeping my marriage together, or at least keeping it from falling apart. 

That evening I was more nervous than I have ever been in my life. It was almost laughable. Why the hell should I be nervous? I wasn't going out on a date. I was meeting my own husband, the man who loved me so much that he asked me to spend the rest of his life with him. I already knew that he loved me. We were just going through a problem. And shit, I was an adult. He couldn't spank me or ground me. We both worked, so he couldn't take away my allowance. On second thought, if Ted wanted to spank me, I'd let him. 

I drove up into our driveway and got out of the car. I took one more deep breath and opened the door. Samantha and Mickey were already there. No one looked happy. There was no food out so this was clearly not a friendly gathering. As Samantha had said, this was the four of us getting together to talk about what had gone on. 

We all sat down at the same small table that we usually played cards or board games at. The tension in the air was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. No one wanted to say anything. 

"Okay," said Samantha, after an eternity of staring, yet avoiding each other's eyes. "We all know the situation that brought us here. Over the last few days, I've spoken to all three of you, so I know pretty much how you all feel. I've spoken to Mickey the most, even though I'm so angry at him that I wish I could throw him through a wall. There are seven relationships here that have been damaged by what happen, and we need to sort them out and decide what we want to have happen." 

"I'll start first," said Mickey. "Elaine, I'm sorry about what happened between us. It was wrong. I guess you've probably heard from Sam, my reasons right or wrong for what I was doing, but you should never have been a part of it. There was no reason for it. I was taking the wrong steps for my revenge in the first place, but I had no reason to include you and Ted in it. Ted had never been anything but friendly to me. I guess that I was just overwhelmed by how pretty you are. Ted is a lucky man. Anyway, I'm sorry." 

I couldn't believe that Mickey was apologizing to me. It was hard not to smile. 

"I've already apologized to Sam," he said. "I know that it's going to take me a long time to regain her trust, and she's already told me that it won't be easy. She also told me that I might not be able to take the punishment she's going to dish out, but I know she's wrong, and I'm determined to keep us together." He smiled at Samantha, and she smiled right back at him. That made me feel so much better that I just couldn't hold it inside anymore. 

"Ted, Honey, I love you, more than anything on earth. What happened between Mickey and I should never have happened. I swear to you that it will never happen again. I just lost my head. I am so sorry, but I pr..." I began. 

"Elaine, stop," said Ted suddenly. "There's no need for you to apologize." 

"Why not," I asked. "If I don't at least ..." 

"I've done a lot of thinking over the past few days," he said. "And I realized finally that I'm the one who was in the wrong ..." 

"Huh?" I said. Samantha and Mickey looked at him in confusion at the same time I did. 

"Whatchu talkin' bout Willis," I asked. 

"You and Mickey are both adults," he said. "You were both consenting to what occurred. I might not have liked it, but I have no legal right to stop it. Technically, it's none of my business. I have no right to interfere in what two other consenting adults decide to do. Since my name is on the lease for our condo, I could object to it going on here, but as far as I know it never happened here, so ..." 

"It was always at my house," spat Mickey. "And it only happened four or five times, maybe six at the most." 

"There you have it," said Ted. Samantha was staring at him in total bewilderment. 

"I still want you to know that it will never happen again, Honey," I said. My happiness was off the scale. 

"Whatever floats your boat," he said. "But I'll never know if it does."

"You mean that if it ever happens again; make sure you don't find out?" I asked. I didn't like the sound of that. I knew that what Ted was hinting at was some sort of 'I'll have my affairs, and you have yours arrangement.' I didn't like the idea of him sleeping with other women even once. 

"No, Elaine, I meant that since we're not going to be together, you can do whatever you please," he said. I almost passed out. I was having trouble breathing. It seemed like some sort of nightmare. He had to be joking. 

"Ted, no, you can't be serious. I apologized," I said. "I told you it wouldn't ever happen again. We've been married for ten years. Samantha is forgiving Mickey." 

"My lawyer says we can have a no-fault divorce and just walk away," he said. "We each keep our savings and pensions. You keep your car; I'll keep mine. Whoever wants the condo the most can keep it. Luckily, we're leasing it not buying it, so we have no equity in it." 

His words made no sense to me. In fact, his voice sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher in those animated specials. He just sounded like random warbling sounds. 

"Wait, stop," I said. "You aren't listening to me. I already said that I was sorry. I know I made a huge mistake. I want to fix it. I will do anything ... ANYTHING ... to make this right. Maybe you don't understand why this happened. Did you even know that I have ..." I sighed deeply and put my head down. 

"Teddy, before you and I got married ... I ... I had a problem. It was kind of why I left college. When I first got to school, I was a nineteen-year-old virgin. I messed around some like everyone does. As you know, I'm not hard to look at, so getting guys was easy. I met up with a guy on the basketball team. 

We hung out at a lot of parties with the team and the cheerleaders, and I ended up getting drunk at a lot of them. Anyway, I was still new to sex, and it really wasn't a big thing to me. Then one of his team mates spent the weekend with us and somehow while drunk, I ended up sleeping with him. He was a black guy, and he had the biggest ... well you get the idea. Anyway, I got kind of hung up on bigger ... equipment and for a while, I guess I was kind of a size queen." 

"Why didn't you ever tell me about this?" he asked. 

"Because, it was never a factor with us," I said. "Most of those guys aren't really that good in bed; they're just bigger. The only thing that turned me on about them was that feeling of being stretched to my limits. Some of them even hurt me and tore me down there. Sex like that isn't really pleasurable; it's just an addiction. And after I had things down there repaired and went through counseling, I got over it. 

After I met you, things with us were so good that I never even thought about it again until that day about a month ago when Mickey pulled down his pants, and I saw..." 

"Well, now you can have what you need," he said. "You don't have to worry about me and my tiny dick, anymore." 

"In the first place, you're not tiny," I said. "You're above average and you're far better in bed than Mickey. I love you Ted." 

"I'm sure there's some huge dicked guy out there just waiting to find you," he said. 

"Ted what do I have to do ...?" I said. "I'll do anything. Please forgive me." 

I couldn't believe it. Ted got up and came over to hug me as I began to cry again. 

As he hugged me, I felt all of the warmth and love that I had always gotten from him. He wrapped me in those strong arms, and I melted. I felt protected and loved. I felt really foolish because I had never gotten anything like that from Mickey. 

"I love you Ted," I said. I reached up to kiss him, but he turned his head away. 

"I loved you too, Elaine," he said. He even smiled a little, or tried to anyway. "And I do forgive you. However, you have to understand. I know that Samantha thinks a lot of the guys involved in this have fragile egos and are feeling inferior to Mickey's giant junk. I'm not. To me, it's a non issue. It's like you and Samantha's boobs. You know she has them. You know they're incredible. But you're secure enough in how pretty you are that you don't care. You always knew that I loved you, and I loved what you have enough that no one could ever come between us." I nodded my head in agreement Samantha is beautiful besides having those huge tits, but I knew that Ted loved me too much to cheat on me. 

"The real deal breaker for me was seeing you, Elaine. Seeing you so desperate for Mickey's huge dick that you allowed yourself to be degraded for it. He made you crawl across the floor on your belly like a snake ... and you were willing to do it. I have no idea of how many degrading and disgusting things you did or would have done for it. I'm sorry but seeing that ... well I realized that you were willing to go to lengths to get that that you just weren't willing to do for us. By your own words, you used to have a problem with size. You probably realized when we got married that I would never stand for cheating. You've always called me a Boy Scout. So you had to know what would have happened if you got caught. Maybe you counted so much on how much I love you, and it made you sure that even if you got caught, I'd take you back. So you took the risk. 

However, Honey any time you gamble, you risk losing. And this time you rolled snake eyes. I just can't get past this. I've already filed for divorce." 

I just stared at him, and then anger over took my sanity. "It won't matter," I said. "I'll get my own lawyer. We'll be in court forever. You will never be free from me. In the end, we'll still be married years from now." 




Swingin' on a Star



"Elaine, even if I had no grounds to divorce you, I could," he said. "With a no-fault divorce, I don't need a reason. And I have a very good reason. Let's try to be reasonable about this." 

"You're the one who's being unreasonable," I screamed. 

"I'll have all of my things out of here by the weekend," he said. "You can move back in then, if you want." 

* * * * * *

Ted

I woke up and went to work the next morning. I'd spent a restless night, tossing and turning and thinking about whether or not I'd made a mistake. The fact of the matter was that I still missed Elaine a lot. However, I knew that we had no future together. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her crawling across that floor and sucking Mickey's dick like it was the best thing in the world. She may not have been ready to admit it, but she had never been that desperate even to kiss me, let alone anything else. 

It wasn't ego or inferiority that drove me; I simply wanted the woman I was married to, to want to be with me and love me with the same amount of adoration and desperation that Elaine focused on Mickey. Maybe I was wrong, or old-fashioned, or any one of a number of things, but I was honest with myself. I couldn't really say that about Elaine. Maybe she really didn't know herself very well. It just seemed like she was fooling herself. 

Maybe she could put her genie back in the bottle for a while, as she had while we were happy together. But sooner or later, it was going to happen again. Maybe the next time she'd be better at hiding it and I wouldn't find out. However, I couldn't see living my life wondering and following her around, hoping that she was being faithful to me. I deserved more than that. 

And Elaine deserved to be happy too. With all of my heart, I hoped that she could find some huge dicked guy to be happy with so she didn't have to settle for me. 

On the other hand, after Elaine had left last evening, round two had begun. Round two consisted of Mickey making his plea to me for forgiveness. I had forgiven Elaine after all, so forgiving Mickey was easier. He had never promised to be true to me. However, like Elaine, when I explained to him that while I forgave him, we would never be friends again, for the very same reasons. He too had betrayed our friendship. I could never trust him again either. So there would be no more bowling or golf together. He would never be riding in my passenger seat for car shows or the Dream Cruise. No more sharing projects or yard work. We were done too. 

However, apparently, no one had told Samantha, because she stopped by even more than normal. I was really surprised one evening when I got home to find her making dinner for me. 

She even sat down to eat it with me. She was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like she'd painted them on and a blouse with several buttons undone. Every time she leaned over to get something to put on her plate or to fill her glass her cleavage was exposed. I tried really hard not to look. 

But every time our eyes met, she smiled. 

"Ted, what do you think about fat girls?" she asked. 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"Could you see yourself with a bigger woman," she asked. 

I just laughed. And she instantly pouted. "So you don't like me?" she asked. 

I almost spit out my food in shock. "Why are you asking me that?" I asked. 

"I was just wondering if you found me attractive," she said. 

"Sam, you're way beyond attractive," I said. "You're beautiful. Mickey is lucky to have you." 

She smiled and nodded her head. She got up from the table then and scooped some food onto a plate. "For Mickey," she said indicating the plate. "See ya later." 

I decided to watch some TV and then turn in. I was still getting used to sleeping alone after over ten years of sharing my bed with Elaine. While I was in the shower, I thought I heard someone come into my room. I looked out and didn't see anyone, so I chalked it up to loneliness and frazzled nerves. 

At about ten o'clock I turned off the TV and tried to go to sleep. A short time after I closed my eyes, I thought I heard someone coming slowly up my stairs. I was sure it was nerves again. Then I heard the click of the door opening and this time I was sure someone was there. 

I sat up in my bed just in time to hear the sound of music in the room. It sounded as if it came from tiny speakers near the closet. And then a small light just enough to illuminate a small area around the TV came on. And in that tiny cone of light, I saw legs. They were very well shaped legs and as the area of light moved upwards I saw the tops of the legs. The light followed the legs upwards until they became an ass. It was a large well shaped well rounded ass. I thought I was dreaming at first. Until that beautiful ass started to move and shake in time to the music from the speakers. 

The person dancing placed the source of the light on top of my TV cabinet and with the increase in height; the area of light was bigger. I could see almost the entire body now. The ass was topped with a small waist line that flared into large breasts. The dancer's body was barely covered. She wore tiny panties that did almost nothing to hide her ass, and her bra was barely able to contain her tits as she moved and shook to the music. 

She swayed her hips and then bent over and continued to shake her ass. When she started to clap her butt cheeks, the only thing between me being able to see her pussy and anus was that tiny strip of material from her panties. My dick was getting harder by the second. She twirled around, with a very sure movement lifted her leg, and wiggled her hips even more, and then she quickly bent forward pulling the tiny panties down to her ankles. She stepped out of them revealing a closely shaved mound and a well toned tummy. 

Her hands slowly rubbed her own hips and side as they moved upwards until they rested on her own breasts. Her bra had a front closure, and she opened it freeing those amazing boobs and then shucking the rest of the tiny garment. She threw it at me and then slowly walked towards me. 

She lifted the sheet on my bed and crawled in beside me leaving no doubt who it was. 

"Samantha wha ...?" was all I got out before she silenced me with a finger against my lips. She kicked a leg over me pressed her body against mine. She didn't, despite the size difference, feel much heavier than Elaine. It was a good feeling. Her warmth spread over me like a living blanket. After a few seconds, she tentatively brought her lips to mine. 

I kissed her back, and our kisses grew in intensity. My dick grew harder than it had ever been in life. I noticed then that she was rubbing her naked slit against me and the only thing separating us was the thin layer of my boxers. 

"Are you going to do anything, or just lie there?" she asked. I thought about it. I knew what she expected. I knew what she was asking. I knew what she was offering. What I didn't know was the expected payoff for her or what it would cost me. I simply wasn't very trusting. Who knew what it could cost me? She might want me to become friends with her asshole husband again. Or maybe even stop my divorce. 

I flipped her over onto her back so suddenly that she screamed in surprise. I reached both hands outward and downward grabbing one of those heavy, sculptured legs in each hand and pulling them outward. I turned my head to the left and licked my way down her right leg, stopping to nibble the tight fleshy muscular tissue of her calf. She squeaked a bit in response. I continued downward and licked the sensitive skin on the back of her knee. As I licked my way down her thigh, I could feel her legs beginning to tremble. 

"Wait, Ted ... Are you?" she gasped. My tongue teased her by licking along the fleshy expanse that separated the very top of her leg from her buttock. I moved on from there and as soon as my tongue grazed the shaved skin of her outer lips, her hands were forming claws. I blew on one of the outer swells and licked at it but avoided the far more sensitive tissue it touched. Then I switched to the other side and did the same thing. 

Her response was to begin dueling with me. Every time my tongue moved towards her, she tried to thrust her soaking wet opening towards me. And I moved away every time, staying just on the edge. 

"PLEEEEEAAASE, Ted," she whined. 

"Please Ted, what," I asked, as if I had no idea what she wanted. 

"You already know, you asshole," she spat. 

"Ask me nicely," I said. 

"Please, Ted," she said. "Would you be so kind as to lick my fuckin' pussy before I go cra ..." I never let her finish. I stuck out my tongue and dove face first into her musky, womanly opening. My first lick plunged deep inside of her gash collecting a healthy swab of fluid and scraped along her clit as it exited. 

Her response was like lightning. Her legs clapped shut on my ears, and her strong hands grabbed the back of my head as if she was trying to force my entire head inside of her opening. 

I held my breath and started licking for all I was worth. The slurping sounds I made were soon drowned out by Samantha's moaning and screaming. She was alternately screaming, "No ... Stop ... No more!" and clamping my face onto her gushing vagina so hard that I couldn't get away from her if I tried. 

Her thick legs were both crushing the sides of my head and then crossed and hooked behind my head. Her head and arms were flailing so hard that I thought she might be in danger of hurting herself. 

In mid scream, her spine arched sickeningly, displaying an almost inhuman flexibility. She gave out one last long scream and collapsed on the bed. I stood up and crawled up onto the bed with her. My face was soaking wet from her secretions. She laughed at me and then started licking my face. 

"Shit, I taste pretty good," she said. "I'm exhausted; you wore me out. You'd better get up here and fuck me, before I fall asleep." 

She rolled on top of me before I could say anything. "Oh fuck, that feels good," she said. She began rolling her hips, and I could see the moonlight illuminating her white teeth even in the darkness. 

"Oh fuuuuuucckkkk! That feels so good," she moaned. I started pumping her back, and the rhythm got away from us. Before I knew what was happening, we were humping and clawing at each other like animals. 

"Sam ... I'm gonna," I croaked. 

"Let it fly, baby," she moaned. "I'm safe." 

I tried to hold it back for as long as I could. But it was too good. Samantha was incredible. She was on her knees under me with that ass in the air. Her back was arched, and she was slamming her ass against me with everything she had. I was reaching forward and squeezing those big tits and rolling her almost cigar-sized nipples in my fingers. 

Then surprising me even further she flexed and tightened the muscles of her vagina. I had been suspecting that her pussy had been stretched out by Mickey's huge dick. However, the pressure and the friction she was able to generate between us was too good to resist. I squirted every ounce of fluid left in my body into her churning chasm and a tiny portion of my soul as well. 

When we were finally done, I wrapped an arm around her sweaty body and pulled her against me. She sighed and relaxed. "Only for a few minutes," she said. 

The next thing I knew it was morning; the sun was beaming into the room, and we both smelled awful. I gently tapped her on her shoulder, and her eyes popped open. 

"You snore," I said. 

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed. "What the hell did you do to me? I was supposed to go home." 

"It was nice having you sleep here," I said. 

"It was really nice for me too," she said softly. "You must really love fat girl pussy ..." she shook her head and smiled. 

"But that isn't the point," she said. "I was supposed to go home to Mickey freshly fucked. It's part of his punishment." 

I sat up in bed then. "He knows that you ...!" I began. 

"Of course," she smirked. "I took him his dinner last night and then had him help me shower and dress to get ready for you." 

I was too shocked to say anything. However, I thought about what that must feel like. Before I got too deeply into my thoughts, she brought me out of them. 

"God my pussy is sore," she said. 

"Sam, I'm sorry," I said. "It's been a while, and it was really good and ..." She burst out laughing and then she kissed me. It was a very strange kiss. It was far more passionate than the type of kiss that friends give each other. But it wasn't quite the kind of kiss that people who are deeply in love exchange. 

"Ted, it's Saturday morning," she said. "A week ago, tonight you fucked the living shit out of Elaine. She told us all about it while we were at the party. She was always bragging about how you turned her inside out. Now I know that she was telling the truth. She must be some kind of idiot to have cheated on you with Mickey." 

"Yeah but Mickey has a ..." I began. 

"Mickey has a huge dick," she finished for me. "Ted, Mickey never lasts more than four or five minutes once he gets his huge dick inside of me. I usually finish myself off after he falls asleep." She moved back towards me and rubbed my sides. 

"Ted you did things to me that Mickey never has. You also made me cum, not once but several times. So you know how good it felt to have someone keep going until I finished? Do you know how good it felt to have something inside of me that was nicely sized but not so big that it felt like I was being split in two? My whole pussy is still tingling. And most importantly, I love my Mickey, but God damn it felt so good to have someone lying on top of me who wasn't crushing the life out of me while he hyperventilated like he'd just climbed a mountain. Last night, was the best sex I've ever had in my life. And I have a feeling that next time is going to be even better." 

"Next time," I said. 

"Of course," she said. "Next time I'll be ready for you. And next time it's going to be even more pleasurable because you won't be able to surprise me. Mickey has never put his mouth down there. And I kept rushing my orgasms because I thought that you were going to stop before I got them. Now that I know what you can do, it's on, buddy. And I know you liked fucking my fat pussy. You squeezed my tits like you were trying to milk me, so I know you love them." 

"Samantha, you need to get over calling yourself fat all the time," I told her. "There's a big difference." 

She rolled over to me and put her face very close to mine. "So what's the difference?" she asked. 

"Well ... You're not tiny, but you're proportionate," I said. "I think you're more in the voluptuous or Amazonian category. And you're so damned pretty. I don't think anyone can look away from you. Fat girls are just round. And they're lumpy and disproportionate and just ... not you!" 

"So does that mean that you might be interested riding my almost fat booty again," she smirked. 

I hesitated. And she saw it and laughed. 

"Stop it," she said. 

"Stop what," I asked. 

"You're worrying about Mickey," she said. "And you shouldn't be. Mickey is really glad you're going to be fucking me for a while. He knows that you're a good guy, and you wouldn't do anything to mess up our marriage or try to take me away from him ... although if anyone could do it, it would probably be you." 

"Huh?" I said in surprise. 

"Think about it Ted," she said. "Mickey betrayed both of us. So he needs a lesson. He needs to understand what it feels like to have the person you love, fuck someone else. He needs to learn what it feels like to wonder if he's good enough to keep me. He needs to learn that his big old dick can't always get him his way." 

"But ..." I began. 

"Ted I picked you for the reasons I already told you, but for a couple of other reasons too. One of them was because Mickey betrayed you too. You were also a victim in his little plan. He destroyed your marriage for nothing. You deserve some revenge against him too. And I could have fucked anyone of his friends. I picked you because now that you've filed for a divorce you're technically single, so I'm not ruining anyone else's relationship. And mostly because I've always had a crush on you." 

I smiled at that. 

"So how long are we going to keep this up?" I asked. "How long before he learns his lesson?" 

"That's up to you," she smirked. "As far as I'm concerned, we're going to be at it until you get tired of fat girl puss ... I mean until you get tired of me." 

"Well, I guess we're going to grow old together," I said. She kissed me again and started laughing. 

"My parents always worried that I would never get married," she said. "Now I've got two husbands." 

* * * * * *

Elaine

On Monday, I woke up angry again. I cried my eyes out for the entire weekend. Late Friday afternoon, I had been taking my sister's advice and giving Ted some space. My sister, like me, was convinced that there would be no divorce. 

"Teddy loves you," she said. "I have no idea why. Especially after being with you for so many years, but he does. It's like the two of you are bonded together. He's just really hurt and really pissed at you. However, if you give him some time, he'll miss you so much that he'll come back and get you. Remember when Dad got really pissed at mom, because she loaned Aunt Grace all of that money that they had been saving for their big vacation? He went and stayed with Uncle Carl. Mom cried every day and tried to call him around the clock. It was pathetic. But in the end, Daddy only lasted about two weeks before he came back with his chest puffed out, but he also had his tail between his legs. 'I hope you've learned your lesson, Marcie,' he told her. But I think we all knew that both of them had learned a lesson. Being apart really hurt both of them. Daddy had missed her just as much as she missed him. Sure the first few days were rough on her because she knew that she was wrong. And they weren't bad for Daddy because he had his anger to focus on. However, after that anger faded ... He came right back to her." 

"Yeah, but in the end, Daddy was right," I said. "Aunt Grace never did pay them the money back. They had to save for three more years before Daddy could take Mom to Europe like she wanted. And even today almost twenty years later, he still gets pissed if you mention it and Mom still feels guilty about it." 

"You blockhead, Charlie Brown," she laughed. "That's how things are going to be for you, too. Every time the two of you talk, you're going to have to be careful what you say. If you mention that some guy at your pissant little job is cute, Ted is going to get jealous and wonder if you're fucking him. And if I was you, I would never turn him down for sex. Because every time you do, he's going to think it's because you're fucking someone else." 

"This is going to be horrible," I said. 

"God damn it," she spat. "How did I ever get such a stupid sister? Elaine how many women do we know who whine and bitch because their husbands ignore them or don't pay any attention to them? Look on the bright side, idiot. Ted is going to be watching you like a hawk for a long time. Use that to your advantage. He is never going to ignore you or forget about you. And that's going to last for years." 

"Ted has never ignored me or forgotten about me," I said. "In all the time we've been together he's never forgotten my birthday or any of the other stupid holidays. He always remembers everything. He's been a great husband." 

"Yet you cheated on him with a disgustingly fat slob, with no job, no personality and little or no social skills," she said. 

"If you had seen the size of his dick, you ..." I began. 

"...Would have laughed at him," she spat. "That's your kink, not mine. I remember the first time you went through this whole big dick thing. I remember how you have to have your hoo hah surgically repaired. I remember all the emotional pain and trauma you went through, because you just became a slut for any guy with a big dick. Don't you remember now shitty your life was? Don't you remember having to pay for all of those sessions with that shrink? Why the fuck would you go through that again?" 




Swingin' on a Star



"I don't know," I said. "I think it's Ted's fault. He always gives anything I want. He's always telling me how pretty I am and how special I am. I guess I started to take him for granted. I started to believe that I deserved anything that I saw. So when I saw Mickey standing there with that foot-long sausage, that was as fat as a fire hose, I just went crazy." 

"How the hell could you get something like that inside of you?" she asked. "Doesn't it hurt?" 

"Well yeah, but it's kind of like running a marathon. Once it's over you're sore and beaten up, but you feel like you've done something special. Like you've done something that most people could never do," I said. 

"So are your orgasms any stronger than the ones you get from Ted?" she asked. 

I just looked at her stupidly. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. "I just asked you an honest question."

"Uhm ... Except for the first time, and I really think that was just because of the excitement of getting that big motherfucker inside of me ... I uhm ... Well ...uhm ...He doesn't really," I was stuttering stupidly as I tried to find a way to tell her. 

She suddenly erupted in laughter. "You gave up Prince Charming ... You gave up the man you've been in love with for all of these years for a fat guy, who can't make you cum!" 

I ran back into the room I'd been sleeping in and started crying all over again. 

Several hours later, Carol knocked on my door and came into the room. I had fallen asleep while crying my heart out. 

"Hey, Charlie Brown, someone's here to see you," she said. "I think it's one of those stupid bimbos from your job. She's carrying a briefcase and trying to look business like. However, from the way she's cracking her gum, you can tell this bitch is straight from a trailer park." 

I got up and went into the living room. Alan, my sister Carol's boyfriend, was standing in the kitchen staring at whoever was in the living room with undisguised lust all over his face. 

When I stepped into the living room, all the hairs on my neck stood up. I didn't recognize the woman at all. Carol was wrong about almost everything. First the woman who sat there teetering on the edge of Carol's couch as if she was afraid that sitting all the way back would give her cooties, wasn't one of the women I worked with. 

Her shoes probably cost more than all of the furniture in Carol's house combined. The briefcase by her feet was the same case that my company's big boss carried. And this woman was too beautiful even to know the location of any trailer park on the planet. 

She was clearly all about the business, as she stood up and grabbed her case as soon as she saw me. "Elaine Rosevelt," she asked, looking at me up and down. 

"That's me," I said. 

"You've been served," she said, handing me a stack of papers and heading for the door. 

"Wait a minute, Blondie," I said angrily. "I'm not accepting these." 

She turned back to me and cracked her gum several times in rapid-fire succession. "Look Granny," she said. Even as she said it, her stance widened, her knees bent a tiny bit and she tilted that beautiful head a notch. 

If we were out on the street, I'd have thought that a change in demeanor like that meant that she was getting ready to try to kick my ass. Her formerly professional and clipped speech pattern also changed. 

"That isn't how this works," she continued. The professional, fake warmth in her tone and delivery was gone. This woman was as cold as ice, and her speech patterns showed it. Each word came out of her mouth as if it had been chopped from a block of ice. I swear that I saw that cloud of frozen water vapor you get when you talk on really cold days coming from her mouth with each syllable. But that couldn't have happened because we were inside of a warm building. 

"The way this usually works is that you did something STUPID to someone. They in turn decided to take legal action against you. I was then hired to deliver those documents that inform you of that pending legal action. It's my JOB. I don't usually take sides. And I don't usually CARE. I just serve the papers and walk the f ... walk away. Once the papers are in your hands, they're yours. I can't take them back. That's like trying to force the toothpaste; you could probably use some by the way, back into the tube. Are we CLEAR?" 

I just nodded with tears forming in the corners of my eyes. She pivoted on one heel and marched towards the door as if we had never spoken. 

I looked at the heading on the sheaf of papers and knew what they were. Carol was wrong. Ted, as usual had been telling me the truth. He really was trying to divorce me. Carol and Alan were staring at me from the kitchen. 

"That was one tough little bitch," gushed Alan. "And she was hot too." 

"You should have beaten her ass," said Carol. "We had your back." 

"Sheeyiiittt! YOU did," said Alan. "That bitch probably knows Karate. Did you see the way she pushed her shoulders back? Her tits came forward, and all of that blond hair flared out. That was fucking Karate. And did you see those shoes she had on. Those tan alligator pumps with the brass toe pieces and brass spike heels? Those are Karate shoes. Those are the shoes that they wear when they're really going to kick your ass. I can just see the two of you; each one of you would have one of those shoes forced halfway up your asshole ... oh hell no! Not me." 

"So what would you have done, Alan?" I asked. 

"It's not my problem," he said. "It's not my fight. I'd have recorded the whole thing on video and then got the door for her when she was ready to go." 

"Hey, that would have been good. We could have used the video against her in court, right?" I asked. 

"Hell no," he spat. "I'd use the video to show my friends some first class ass kicking." 

"So you're afraid of some gum chewing little blond twitch," asked Carol angrily. 

"Nope," cracked Alan defensively. "I just respect her skills. If I had to take her out, I could do it." 

Carol looked at him suspiciously. "How would you do it?" she asked. 

"With a baseball bat ... while she was asleep," he mused. "Or better still, with a high powered rifle from three blocks away, you know like American Sniper ... Peeyow!" He pretended to line up an imaginary rifle and made shooting sounds. 

Carol just looked at him and shook her head. 

"What are you going to do now?" she asked. 

"Well, I did things your way," I said. "I gave him some time and some space, and it didn't work. So fuck this. I'm gonna fight it. I'm gonna get my own lawyer and get my husband back. Whether he wants it or not. He stood up in front of our family and friends and vowed to love me forever." 

"Didn't you take those same vows and break them?" she asked. 

"Shut up Carol ... you're not helping," I said. I went back into my room and this time I wasn't crying. I got on my phone and started looking for a lawyer. It was as if a switch had been flipped in my mind. The one thing powering my every thought was getting my husband back. 

The lawyer I hired was a realist. She looked over our assets and spoke to me at length. After perusing everything I put in front of her, she looked up at me and spoke. 

"Are you sure you can pay me?" she asked. 

"What are you talking about?" I asked. 

"You and your husband together, don't have shit," she spat. "You two are roughly thirty, and you haven't saved a God damned dime. You don't even own your home. You're leasing a condo. That means you have zero equity in it. You two have close to five grand in the bank. Your husband has a great job; yours is so-so. You both have unlimited potential but nothing concrete." She took off her glasses and put them down on the table. 

"Look, Honey, this is going to sound rough, but the best thing for you to do is cut your losses. You love the guy. I can see that. But let's face it; you cheated on him. It's up to him, whether or not he takes you back. There is no way you can force him to stay married to you. His offer is a very fair one. You both keep your cars, which since he paid for yours is generous. You both keep your pensions, which since his is worth more kind of sucks for you. But since you're the cheater, and you're both so young any judge will probably go for. He's willing to walk away and give you the condo, which doesn't mean shit since you won't be able to afford it for very long on your own. Honey, no judge is going to give you any more than this," she said. 

"You're each going to walk away with about twenty-five hundred bucks and the whole world in front of you. I won't even charge you for the consultation ... since you probably need every dollar you can get. Just walk away, cry him out of your system, and try again. Just don't cheat on the next one." 

"But isn't there anything I can do?" I asked. "Can't I force him into counseling or something?" 

She put her glasses on and shook her head. "All of that costs money," she said. It'll cost you four hundred dollars to retain me just long enough to file the paperwork to petition the court for counseling. The counseling alone will run you three hundred a session. Seven sessions and you're broke. You'll be homeless and living paycheck to paycheck. Let the guy go. Or better still, save yourself some cash, you need it. Just go and talk to the guy. The worst thing he can do is say that he doesn't want to talk. In that case, you back off and keep trying every so often until he agrees. Then you put in your pitch and take your chances. This way you have just as big a chance at success, and it doesn't cost you shit." 

I left her office more pissed off than I'd been when I walked in. But I decided to take her advice. And I decided to do it then. 

I drove back to the condo. I was a bit nervous about seeing Ted. As I pulled in front of the house, I noticed that Ted's Jeep wasn't in the driveway. During the winter months, Ted drove a nearly twenty-year-old Jeep to protect his Mustang from the harsh Michigan winters. 

That meant that Ted hadn't gotten back to the condo yet. I parked on the street to avoid blocking him out of the driveway. The last thing I wanted to do was to get him even more pissed off at me. 

The house felt weird. It was cold. Ted was probably making the place more to his liking. I was always cold, so I kept the temperature very high in the winter. Ted liked it much colder than I could ever stand. I laughed when I thought about the way we compromised to solve our problem. 

I cranked up the temperature until I was comfortable and Ted put up with it. In exchange for his discomfort, I walked around the house in only panties and a T-shirt. I also bent over and stretched a lot. We were both happy with the arrangement. 

We shared so many good memories in this place. I knew every crack in the paint and how they happened. Despite the temperature, the ghost of all of those happy times was still there. I had to find a way to make sure they continued. I turned as I heard the sound of the door behind me opening. But when the door opened fully I was disappointed. 

It wasn't my husband; it was the troll. 

"Hey, Elaine," he said. 

"Hi," I said as icily as I could. Then I realized that I needed to grow up and act like an adult. What happened between us wasn't Mickey's fault alone. I bore equal responsibility for our actions and the changes in our lives that resulted from them. 

Mickey looked different. I knew that I did too. I looked older and less happy. The glow that Ted always claimed I had was gone. Sadness does that to you. But Mickey's face was different from mine. He just looked beaten or lifeless. He looked as if the weight of life had just worn him down and removed the spark from his soul. 

"The pink stickers are things that Ted thinks are yours. The blue ones are things that he thinks are his. It gets more complicated after that. The ones with white stickers are all community property. If it has a blue sticker beside the white one, it's something he wants. There's an itemized list of everything in the place on the table over there. If you don't mind Ted having one of the white stickered items, just pull the white sticker off and leave the blue one. If you want something put a pink sticker on it. There's a pad of stickers on the table next to the list," he said. 

"Ted took the bedroom set from the spare bedroom. He said it was his before you guys moved in together. He hasn't taken anything else except for his clothes and personal things." 

"I ... I don't understand any of this," I managed to utter. 

"I'm so sorry, Elaine," he said. "This is entirely my fault. I should never have included you. My best friend's fucking wife, what was I thinking? I was so full of myself. I didn't think that anyone would get caught. I never did with any of the others. I had to tell them myself, so I could shove it in their faces. Who's the joke now?" 

He sat his large body down on my sofa. I felt sorry for him. As bad as it seemed for me, it was weighing on him a lot more heavily. 

As he continued to talk, I wasn't even sure he was still talking to me. 

"I was always the fuckin' joke ... Always the fat ass. Even now that I'm a grown-ass man. They still pick on me. Everything I try to do is always so God Damned funny. I still remember the prom. I thought it would change everything once they saw Sam. All of those fuckin' jokes about me dating my hand could stop. They couldn't joke about Sam. Do you know what they asked me? Is she your sister or your cousin? She was way too pretty for me. They couldn't joke about Sam. So I was still the joke." 

He started laughing then, and I was tempted to leave and come back after Ted got home. 

"Sam is the best thing in my life. I can't lose her. Ted is my best friend. He's the only one that ever treats me like a person. Why the hell did I ever even look at you? I got too big for my own fuckin' britches. I was a God. Mickey wasn't a joke anymore. You should have seen the look on their faces when they found out their stupid whore wives went crazy over my junk. I took them all down, one after another. Ted never once hurt me. He was my only real God Damned friend. However, you were just so God Damned pretty. It was only going to be once. But you looked so good with my sperm splashed all over your face. And the sounds you made ... Oh God you were so tight ..." 

"Mickey," I said loudly. He turned as if he was surprised that I was still there. 

The look in his eyes was pure agony. He looked as if he was being tormented by the devil himself on the lowest level of hell. Whatever he was going through, the jolly, fat, and happy Mickey I knew was no more. In his place sat this pathetic shell of a man. 

"What time does Ted usually get home lately," I asked. 

"Ted is already at home," he said. "He moved out a few days ago. I told you he left this stuff here for you guys to divide. He's buying a lot of new furniture. He just took the bedroom set because they needed ..." He started sobbing then.

"Mickey where is Samantha?" I asked sharply. I figured that maybe Samantha could give me more information than he could. I felt as if I was torturing him even further. 

He turned and looked at me, and tears ran down his cheeks. He was trying so hard not to cry that his entire body was trembling. 

"Samantha is with HIM, you stupid bitch," he said. "Aren't you listening? She goes over to his new place all the time." 

"Mickey, don't get upset," I said, trying to calm him down. "She's just being a friend. She's just helping him to settle into his new apartment." 

"He bought a house," he whined. "I can't lose her. She really wants a house." 

It was so pathetic that I almost laughed at him, but I held it in. 

"Mickey, Samantha loves you. You know that. And she and Ted aren't like us. They're strong enough to resist doing anything bad. She's just helping Ted get his life on track." 

"I can't believe I had sex with you," he blurted out. "You're too stupid to breathe. 

"Mickey ... What?" I didn't understand him at all. I was too shocked at finding out that my husband had done what I most wanted him too. He knew how badly I wanted to move out of the condo and into a house of our own. Then we could start having kids and truly be a family. 

"They're already fucking," he spat. "He's fucking the shit out of her. And she loves it. She goes over there every God damned day ... Some times more than once. And sometimes she spends the night with him. She makes it a point to sit in front of me with her legs spread and his cum leaking out of her. I've known that woman for nine years ... We've been married for eight years. She let HIM fuck her ass. Not me ... HIM." 

"Mickey ... Why is she ...? Why are you letting her ...?" I began angrily. 

"I can't fucking believe they let you walk around by yourself," he said exasperatedly. "You are honestly the stupidest person I know. When they handed out brains, you must have gone back for a second helping of pretty and missed all of the smarts. Let me explain this to you in really simple terms. I'll talk really slow too ..." He said loudly. 

"Mickey, I'm not deaf," I said. "You don't have to yell." 

"Do you remember the night about a week or so ago that we all got together to talk. Samantha arranged it all. She had been talking to all of us during the whole time. However, that night we got together to discuss it all and see where we stood. She talked about our different relationships, remember ... And how many of them might be salvageable. It turned out that out of seven combinations, one has blossomed. One more is surviving. Two others are on life support and probably won't make it." 

"So the strong one is Ted and Sam, right?" I asked. 

He nodded his head. "My marriage is the one that is surviving," he said. "I'm going to do ... To endure whatever I have to do to keep her." 

"But you said she's cheating ... They're cheating on us now?" I asked. I started smiling. If Ted and Samantha were having sex, that would make us all even. I didn't like the idea. Samantha, even as big as she was, is simply too pretty to let loose on my husband. However, I could live with it. 

"Okay," she said shaking his head. "I'll talk even slower." 

"Huh?" I said. 

"I saw you smiling, you dumb bitch!" he said. "You don't get it. They aren't cheating. Ted has filed for a divorce. I know you're having trouble believing it, probably because you've always been pretty enough that you invariably got your way, so again, I'm going to talk slowly. Ted does not want you back. You broke his heart, and he is DONE WITH YOU. Therefore, he is not cheating on you, get it?" I nodded and closed my lips firmly. I wasn't giving up on my marriage that easily, but I didn't say anything. 

"Sam isn't cheating on me either," he said. "Remember she told us all that she and I were staying together? She said that she forgave me, but I was going to be punished, remember? This is my punishment. I have to live with knowing that she is going out and fucking Ted whenever she wants to." 

I looked at him in horror. Even as I thought about it, my shock grew. What Mickey and I had done had been bad. We had both betrayed the people we were sworn to love. But it had only hurt them once they found out about it. Neither of their lives had been affected by what we'd done until it was out in the open at which time it had ceased. Perhaps it was worse for Ted because he had seen us, but what Mickey was enduring strained his psyche. 

Without trying, images of Samantha with those huge boobs of hers flopping and those big legs splayed akimbo, moaning while my husband thrust himself into her flashed across my mind, and I was instantly angry. 'I should kill that bitch,' I thought. 

But I had no right to. 

"How long are they going to ...?" I asked.