0 comments/ 12888 views/ 0 favorites Autumn Wind By: jay hanspard The autumn night air was cool and crisp. They felt the chill as they disrobed each other. There was only the sound of slightly rustling clothes in the moonlit woods. Though both near thirty, they felt like high school kids. A mixture of nervousness and curious exploration overtook their brains. She slipped his sweatshirt off his head, taking her time to rub his sides and his hard nipples as she removed the garment. She unbuttoned her sweater and let it fall to the ground beside the sleeping bag. Just as smoothly and effortlessly, she removed her bra and stood before him. Her nipples were rock hard. She reached in her waistband and slid her jeans and panties off. The chill and the rush of this moment made her shake visibly. She could see his breath catch quickly at her full exposure. The moon lit her up perfectly. He unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down, leaving everything in a pool on the other side of the sleeping bag. She let her eyes wander down to his hardness. He took a step towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She responded by putting her arms around his neck and pulling him close. The warmth of their bodies contrasted the night air, and filled them with desire. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to her knees. She went willingly, taking the opportunity to see his thick, erect cock at eye-level view. She rubbed him against her lips, sliding down to his balls and running a warm tongue over the heavy ball. She saw his balls contracting and rising as his erection grew more stiff. The cool air was getting to them, and she wanted to feel his warm body against hers. She took his cock as deep in her mouth as she could, almost gagging, and left a slick trail of saliva on him to lubricate him for later action. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him down toward her and the warm sleeping bag. He opened it and slid in on his back, pulling the unzipped side open to invite her in. With little room to maneuver, she slipped in on top of him. He zipped up the side and rested his head on the built in pillow. The cool outside air moved in a breeze, reminding them of all the things they were escaping from together in the sleeping bag. She lay on top of him, his stiffness trapped against her belly. She brought her head down to his chest and listened to his heart beating...steady...but more relaxed...like a calm before a storm. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close, inhaling the scent of her hair. She rested her arms at his sides, her fingers lightly scratching his shoulders. She loved this feeling, and knew this was where she would lay to sleep tonight, a thought that brought her peace and comfort. She could sleep now if not for the desire that had yet to be satisfied. Both wanted to begin their lovemaking session, but neither could bring themselves to break this embrace. He finally pulled her up to him and let their lips meet. They kissed rarely, but this moment was perfect. His lips and mouth tasted sweet, and he pulled at her tongue with his lips. He broke off the kiss to her mouth, but continued it down her neck, and up to her ear. Her desire returned immediately, and she returned the same treatment to his neck and shoulder. She shifted off of his stomach to allow his cock to be freed. The easier pace and minutes of being of trapped caused his cock to shrink back down. His half stiff cock dropped down between his legs as she took her position back on him. He ran his hands across her shoulders and back, taking long sweeping strokes, and following it up with light scratches across her back. She felt the urge to just melt into him, but she wanted to continue these pleasurable feelings. She dropped her head to his nipple and flicked her tongue across it. It rose almost instantly and she teased it the same way she liked her own sucked. A few minutes of this brought her desire to her own nipples, and she slid up him and brought a nipple into his hot mouth. He sucked not at her nipple, but at the entire firm tit. He sucked in as much as he could and let it slide out to the hard nipple; covering his teeth with his lips, he bit down on the nipple and pulled off hard. She gave a loud yelp, and looked at him with the desire he wanted to see, and then buried the tit back in his mouth. His fingertips lightly grazed across her ass in circles, going faster and faster until he switched to fingernails, more circling and teasing. When she slammed her other tit in his mouth, he responded to her aggressiveness by raking his fingernails across her ass, and then retracing the same path with light fingertips. The change-up in sensations was driving her wild. She felt his cock rising between her legs, and she aided its swelling by rubbing her wet slit against it. The warm, wet sensation made him hard as a rock. She used the base of his hard dick to stimulate her clit. The rhythm was steady but not overwhelming. Her arousal was building, and its product was dripping out of her and dripping on his cock. He pulled her down so that their lips could meet. There were no tongues this time, only their soft lips nibbling at each other. As they kissed, he let the head of his cock rest against her wet opening. He wasn't pushing, and it didn't seem like she was either, but somehow the head eased into her. She didn't clamp on him, or try to impale herself; she just let it happen on its own time. Totally relaxed, he slid in an inch at a time. Her tight cunt allowed him in easily, one thick inch after another, until she felt their groins meet. For the first time she clinched her internal muscles and found herself so full she could barely squeeze him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. Pulling her closer to him slid his cock deep into her; so far that she wondered if he was right at her cervix. Rather than pound him, she bobbed her pelvis up and down just to appreciate the feeling she had wondered about. Nerve endings deep inside her were being rubbed by the hard ridge of his cock head. Her clit was being rubbed by the base of his cock, giving her a wonderful dual stimulation. Their passion, which had built for months, would not allow for this to be a long session. He reached down and firmly grabbed a handful of her ass in each hand, taking control of her body. She closed her eyes hard and buried her face in his neck. Her whimpering grew louder with each hard thrust. Determined to cum at the same time as she, he pulled her off of him up to the tip of his cock and continued pounding in its whole length. Her pussy stretched open for him every time, and the feeling of deep stimulation pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm had just begun when his got the best of him. He rolled her over on her back and impaled himself to the hilt. His strong arms squeezed some breath out of her as his moans and groans hit a higher pitch. Though not moving, his cock twitched and jumped inside her. He let out a stifled cry as he unclenched the muscle in him that held his orgasm back. With one last dying moan he unloaded his hot cum inside her. She felt it shoot out against her depths, and then it filled the area between his cock and her. She orgasmed again from the warm load emptying in her. As their hearts slowed, they once again noticed the cool wind picking up. Everything that caused them angst and worry was still out there...but it wasn't in the sleeping bag with them. For one night they didn't have to think about those things. For one night they were satisfied lovers rather than the people they were during the week grinding out their sometimes unsatisfying existence. He rolled her back over on top of him. She laid her head down on is chest, felt his heartbeat, felt his withering cock in her, and listened to the autumn wind blow around them... Autumn winds It seemed to Nichelle that an autumn day could not have dawned any more perfectly than this one had. The sun shone down brightly and reflected beautifully off the gleaming blue waters of the mountain lake that she had set her tent by the previous evening. Early morning bird calls filled the clean, cool air and left her feeling magnificently refreshed. Murmuring one of her favorite songs to herself, she went about the business of breaking camp and began her hike back to her Land Rover, parked 5 miles away. No more than an hour later, she had stowed her gear in the back of her ride and was buckling herself in, headed for home. After all, today was Monday and she had to be in town for work. Not that she felt any joy from that particular thought. Shaking her ass for money, was not the dream job she had always assumed it would be, but it more than paid her bills and helped pay for schooling so it would do for now. Three hours later, she pulled into the parking space in front of her weather-beaten brownstone. "Home again, woo-hoo." she mumbled to herself, a slight grin on her pixie-ish face. A long hot shower, a big cup of chamomile tea and she was more than ready to lay back down. It was all ready noon, and she had to work a 9 hour shift tonight, starting at 6pm. When she arrived at the club, she noted that no-one seemed to be around. Of course, this early in the evening, it was always that way. Most guys would not even attempt to come out until after dinner with their families or girlfriends. She headed to the dressing rooms, carrying her pack. About 9pm, business began to pick-up. Nichelle was one of those rare strippers who waited tables between sets. It augmented her dance money and gave her time to simply pretend she was not one of those hoochie girls on stage. It was while she was making the rounds that she felt the weight of someone's stare upon her back. Nichelle turned around, and locked eyes with a man who had an utterly beguiling smile and killer green eyes. Being a dark-skinned half latino, half black female, she wasn't so sure that he was actually gazing at her. Turning around quickly, she noticed no other females in her general vicinity and so decided to head his way. "Hello love, can I help you?" she asked quietly, her mother's Spanish accent adding colour to her words. "Oui, ma petite. I would like a shot, Sloe Gin. The color is so very pretty, non?" The gentleman had an accent, like French a la New Orleans. The tone and slow romantic way he spoke sent chills straight up her spine, and amazingly wetted her slit. "I have never had it, love. But I will get it for you." Nichelle walked slowly away, her high, rounded ass and hips giving a little more shake than normal as she walked over to the bar and gave Tony, the bartender, her orders. After making the rounds, she returned once more to the gentleman's table, bearing his shot of Sloe Gin, which was thick and deeply reddish, sort of like blood. He greeted her with a charming smile, his eyes lingering upon her face, unlike most guys who come to strip clubs. She stood there, talking quietly with him, until finally it was time for her next set. With a small frown, she strode back to the changing area and put on her next outfit, a white lace and velvet form-fitting dress. Once she hit the stage she became her persona...Morgana. Wrapping her legs around the pole that stood to the left of the stage, she swung, allowing her long black hair to fly free. Staring out into the crowd, she locked eyes with that of the new customer, performing solely for him. Unzipping the dress, she slid it slowly down, allowing it to caress her breasts, her hips, her legs. He smiled at her, standing up and moving closer to the stage, until finally he was seated right in front of her. And yet no matter what she did, caressing her ass, licking her nipples, spreading her thighs and patting her completely shaved pussy, she could not get him to look any where but her face. Eventually she had to work the rest of the stage, collecting 5's and 10's from the other men (and one woman) seated there. When she finally made it back to her original customer, he held up a 20. She stuck out her left thigh, where a white leather strip held her tips. he inserted it gently and with a smile, he arose. Nichelle saw him no more for the rest of the night. It was close to 3:30 before Nichelle strolled out to her car, once more in her street clothes: ripped jeans, ny sweat shirt and a beat up leather trench and timberlands. She stopped soon enough, once she heard a soft voice call her name. "Nichelle, wait one moment, si vous plais." Of course, she turned and saw, standing by a black Eclipse, the customer from earlier in the evening. "I just wanted to know if you would like to go for a ride. I would like to learn more about you, without all those extra things...like naked bodies or loud, obnoxious music. Would you like to come?" His soft request, sweetly asked, made her smile. "Sure." Within moments she was seated on a plush velour seat, giggling softly as she listened to him curse the car in melodic french, which was giving him problems. Eventually, the car came to life and they drove out of the lot, leaving her car behind. He took her to a small estate, located on the outskirts of town. "I hope you do not mind accompanying me to my humble home." A sly grin was flashed her way, along with sparkling green eyes. "Humble, yeah, right." she giggled in return. An hour later, Nichelle was being slowly caressed. Her thighs lay gaped open and a well placed hand covered her clit and lips, pressing gently in a circular motion that had her hips heaving. Lips slowly explored her throat, her breasts, her mouth. At one point, Nichelle felt a slight sting on her left breast, but the pleasure that arose was so intense that she promptly forgot about it, as she came. She helped ease him out of his confining clothes, gasping in pleasure at the sheer beauty of his physique. With a gentle kiss, he reached back and loosened his hair, which flowed around them like living blonde silk. Nichelle then took the lead, licking and kissing down his stomach until she reached the head of his half erect penis. Sucking it gently into her mouth, she swallowed at the same time so that he ended up deep in her throat. Caressing the base with her tongue, she soon felt him begin to pulse. He grasped her head and jerked her up by her hair. "Non, petite, we must have some protection." Arising gracefully from the couch, he pulled a silver foil from his pant pocket. Opening and unrolling the condom took but an instant and then he rejoined her on the black velour sofa, an impish grin on his face. He began again, licking, kissing, caressing. Her harsh breaths soon resounded from the walls. After what seemed an eternity, she felt his lips on her shaved pussy. He suckled her clit, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue. A small pain, as if a tooth had nicked her, and then he was back to sucking, strong and steady, sending her into another orgasm. He inserted his tongue deeply into her snatch, slurping and suckling as if he had not eaten in weeks. It was not long before he brought her to the edge and over, once more. Finally, he reared up, his mouth shiny and slightly reddened. Placing his cock at her entrance, he gave a small push and soon entered her completely. She moaned, he lifted her legs to his shoulders and began a deep, slow stroke, connecting with her swollen clit on every in and out. With his eyes changing color, from green to blue, whispering romantic sounding french words into her ears, biting and nibbling on her neck, Nichelle soon came and then she fainted. The feeling was just too intense to maintain awake. Nichelle came out of her swoon, seated in the front seat of her Rover. The sun was shining into her front window and her thighs, neck and breasts thumped alarmingly. Inserting her key into the ignition, she started the jeep and headed for home though her mind tried furiously to recall how she had gotten back to her car. When she pulled up to the front of her house, she noticed a pale beige envelope on the seat next to her. She grabbed her bag and went inside, waiting to open the note until she was safely inside. "Petite: Thank you for a lovely evening. I hope that it was as fulfilling for you as it was for me. Since I never introduced myself properly, I will do so now. My name is Jean-Marc Baptiste. Please do not be alarmed by your arrival to your car, I placed you there when it became obvious you would not awaken. I will be to your job tonight. So until then, au revoir." A smile graced Nichelle's lips for one moment before she placed the note on an end table and headed for her room. A bath was definately in order. After all, the way her body felt, it seemed she had been eaten alive, in more ways than one. And if she had anything to say about it, than it was guaranteed she would feel that way again. Autumn Winds Introduction: Many people love autumn, with its changing leaves and brisk mornings; however, for some, autumn is a sad time, a time of memories and growing older. Perhaps, there is another aspect to autumn, one that speaks to realized hopes and dreams, but whatever the nature of autumn, it is a time of change. This story is dedicated to all those men and women who walk in the face of the Autumn Winds. __________________________________________ A crisp wind blew over the city, and it spoke of even cooler days ahead. As Frank Howard came down the steps, from the front porch of his house, he heard the breeze speak of change. He felt change radiating up from the ground. The year was growing older, and gone were the days of summer when the year was at its prime. Now, the year was moving, with slow decline toward winter, when the whiteness of snow would bring its cold whiteness. Then, there would come a long night, when the year would slip away into history. Yet, the year tenaciously fought, to hang on to a remnant of what it once had been, and the days still grew warm, after the crispness of morning. There was change upon the wind. Frank Howard didn’t look his 56 years. He stood around six feet tall, weighed 180 pounds, had blue eyes and graying, brown hair. Frank took pride in his physical fitness and no matter how busy his schedule he always managed to start everyday out with a regiment of exercise. Although he was totally unaware of it, women found Frank fascinating and attractive, while men admired his inner strength and character. He walked with the firm step and poise of a person who was confident in his abilities and place in the world. For thirty years, he had worked for McMillan & Sons Inc. He had gradually advanced up through the ranks, until he now held the position of Corporate Relations Manager. Frank was responsible for all manner of negotiations, ranging from company/union contracts to multimillion dollar business deals. He was good at what he did for a living, and he took great pride in his ability, to reach mutually beneficial agreements. Frank’s wife was named Martha. She was a year younger than her husband, and at five feet one inch tall, she was considerably shorter than her spouse. She weighed 125 pounds and had brown eyes and black hair. Her hair was diligently colored, on a regular basis, to ensure that the telltale signs of aging did not show upon her tresses. She was a pretty woman, neither stunningly beautiful nor terribly plain. Her voice had an almost musical quality to it that attracted attention whenever she spoke. With the exception of a couple of years, when she had worked as a school teacher, Martha had been a housewife and mother; jobs in which she took great pride. Martha and Frank been married for thirty-two years, and for twenty-nine of those years they had lived in the same big, rambling, two-story house. In that house, the couple had raised their three children, two boys and a girl, and saw them off upon their own ways in the world. One of the boys had taken a job in Canada; the other boy was working for a company in Delaware; while their girl was working in Europe. Although the house was bigger than their current needs, Frank and Martha had never considered selling it. Frank Howard entered his car and began the morning ritual of the drive to work. As usual, he followed the same route that he always took, down past the river and over the North Street Bridge. In the coolness of the morning, tendrils of vapor rose off the water and collected in small patches, wherever the breeze did not blow them away. He glanced up river, toward the falls, and he wished, as he always did, that he had more time, to sit and look at the beauty of the river. He shrugged his shoulders slightly and sighed, knowing that as usual, when the weekend came, he would find other things to do than river watching. In keeping with his normal routine, he entered the McMillan building just before 7 a.m. It was an hour when the majority of McMillan & Sons employees had not yet arrived for work. He knew that he would find company’s CEO, Carl Coffman alone in his office and would be able to review some of the negotiating points, for the upcoming talks with Nolan Enterprises. As he suspected, he found Mr. Coffman sitting in his office going through the stacks of papers, which covered his desk. “Morning Frank,” Carl looked up and smiled, “I was just thinking about you and this Nolan business that we have going tomorrow. What’s your read on the situation?” “I think, we have a good chance of coming out of the whole thing with a lot of money.” “You know,” remarked Coffman, “I have this feeling that they will be trying to unload those Asian goods that they’ve been trying to get rid of for the last year. We sure don’t want to make a concession when it comes to that.” “We have an opportunity,” Frank explained opening up his briefcase, “to turn that to our advantage. They want to be free of that stuff, and we have the means to move it, but they’ll have to sweeten the kitty. Fuck! I left the folder with my strategy outline on my desk at home. I’ll have to run home and get it.” “Fine,” Carl nodded. “How is your team shaping up?” “Everyone knows the plan. There are just a couple of items that I need to review with Jeff Hendricks, when I get back, and we’ll be set to go.” “Great! Brief me when you have everything ready.” Shaking his head in disgust Frank left the building and went to his car. On the drive home, he kept kicking himself over the lapse in memory, which was causing him to return to his house, to retrieve the forgotten papers. As fast as he could, he made it to his home, went up the steps, and entered the front door. He was surprised to find the entry hall darker than normal, because the sliding doors to the living room had been closed. He was just about to call out to his wife when he heard her voice. “Yes, harder, faster!” her voice came from the living room, “You feel sooo, good!” He saw that the sliding doors were not completely pulled shut, and he heard the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, in that horribly familiar rhythm of passionate sex. Frank looked through the cracked doors and saw his wife lying totally naked, upon the room’s table. An equally naked man stood between her legs, rapidly pumping his rigid cock, in and out, of her most willing pussy. Frank immediately recognized the man as neighbor, Hank Tatum, a person who Frank had never liked, and now liked even less. “How cliché!” Frank thought, as a grim smile touched his lips, “The unsuspecting husband comes home to catch his wife flagrante delicto. It has all the earmarks of a cheap, pornographic story.” However, unlike most cheap stories, the main characters involved in this tableau, were not your typical, glamorous couple seizing a moment of illicit pleasure; they were a middle-aged woman and man. The man had receding hair, a plentiful beer belly, and an average sized cock. The woman had slightly smaller than average breasts, which showed the combined effects of time and gravity, and had a roll of flesh around her midsection. To Frank the scenario was far more disturbing than a story; the woman involved was his wife. Once upon a time, Frank would have burst into the room and beaten the man senseless, but as he watched the scene in the living room, he discovered he didn’t care. He felt neither anger nor jealousy. He was neither turned on nor repulsed, by the spectacle he was witnessing. In a way, he was not surprised by what he was seeing. For some time, he had known that his marriage had been faltering. The passion had gone out of the relationship, and while it might be normal for the fires of passion to diminish with age, in the case of Frank and his wife, those fires had seemed to have gone completely out. They had only made love four times during all of last year, and only twice during the current year. Hank Tatum’s hands moved over Martha’s breasts. He pushed on her tits, and his fingers depressed her soft flesh and caused her to softly moan. He then pinched her nipples between his fingers and thumbs and stretched them, before moving his hands to her hips. Martha arched her back, and Hank leered at her obvious pleasure. “Oh, baby,” Tatum said,” you feel so fine. You’re cunt is nice and tight—just the way it should be for a good fuck. I can tell you haven’t been getting it much from your old man.” “It has been a long time since he has made love to me,” she gasped as her lover continued his relentless efforts between her legs. “I don’t remember the last time. This is the first time I’ve ever cheated on him, but I don’t want to talk about him. I just want you use that wonderful cock to fuck me, and fuck me some more.” “Don’t you worry, babe,” Tatum’s hands moved back over the woman’s breasts. “This is only the start, you’re going to be getting a whole lot of fucking from now on in—that I promise you.” Frank’s eyes widened with surprise. Martha had always disdained what she called “vulgar” words such as, cock and fuck. She had a strict prohibition that such terms not be used in her presence. Once upon a time, Frank and Martha had made love, long and often. Frank wondered when it was that things first began to taper off. It must have been, at least five years ago, when he first began to notice subtle changes in his wife’s mood. She began to do fewer and fewer of those little things, which are done out of love and not for duty. She began to sleep on the far side of the bed, instead of snuggling up against him during the night, as she had done since they were first married. Then, she began to find fault in most of the things he said or did. Even a little thing, like taking out the trash, was followed by complaints. Hank stopped his motions for an instant and reached under Martha, to lift her partly into a sitting position and kissed her deeply. He then, eased her back down upon the table, grabbed her hips, and renewed his fucking. Frank watched as the man’s hands slid down to roughly mold Martha’s buttocks. He could see Hank’s thick fingers sinking deeply into the soft flesh of her ass cheeks. Once upon a time Frank had tried to salvage his marriage. He had seen all the warning signs, but he had been powerless, to prevent the situation from spiraling down into an ever widening rift. There had been times, when he had felt like a helpless bystander, at the edge of the tracks, trying desperately to signal an oncoming train that the bridge ahead had washed out. Frank knew that his work responsibilities took up a lot of his time; therefore, he had taken on a lighter work load, which had given him more time at home. When he had suggested marriage counseling, his wife had erupted in a fit of anger. He tried flowers, gifts, romantic dinners, and weekends away from the area. For awhile his efforts had seemed to ease the situation, but in the end, the downward spiral continued unabated. Finally, this last year Martha forgot his birthday, and while normally Frank wouldn’t have let it bother him; under the current circumstances he began to become resentful. He ceased to try to please Martha. In fact, he often would go out of his way to argue with her. Frank was ashamed of these arguments, which were the end result of his resentments and frustrations. Hank Tatum pulled his cock free of Martha’s pussy, and pulling the cushions from the couch, arranged them on the floor. After making sure he had the cushions placed just where he wanted, he helped Martha down from the table and directed her to get down on her hands and knees. Hank then knelt down behind her and guided is glistening cock to the entrance of her sopping pussy. With a hard thrust, he sent his organ deep within the woman, as his beer belly came to slapping up against her rear. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips and his hands covered her swaying breasts. Once upon a time, Martha had moaned and yelled wildly, as Frank had made love to her. He had been able to fire her passions to the highest peaks. Back in those days, she told him that he was the world’s best lover, and she meant it. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of Frank; she would often wake him in the middle of the night, her hands gently messaging his manhood, while she rubbed her eager pussy against his leg. Frank had thought she had been the most beautiful girl (he still thought she was beautiful) he had ever seen when he had first met her, in that time so long ago. He was a long haired liberal, dedicated trying to stop the war, while at the same time setting up food assistance programs, for those people who fell through the official government safety net programs. In those days, she had been a fiery and demanding lover, and the two of them became engulfed in a haze of lust and love, which led to the exchange of marriage vows. “Oh,” gasped Martha, “I’m going to cum. Keep going, hard and fast! Ohhhh!” “You want hard and fast,” Hank said as he gritted his teeth and began thrusting himself into her with renewed vigor, “I’ll give you hard and fast. I’m going to fuck you so hard; you’re going to wish you were born without a cunt.” Once upon a time, Martha had been a woman of class and distinction, set so far above the likes of Hank Tatum, that she would never have given him more than a quick neighborly glance. Frank shook his head, as he watched his wife fucking Hank, and he wondered how she had ever fallen so very low. Hank had supposedly suffered a sever injury to his back, one that had been so serious, it was impossible for him to work and restricted almost all the man’s normal movements. While Hank sat around home drinking beer and collecting disability payments, his wife was out working. Hank’s wife held a fairly high paying job with one of the city’s leading advertising agencies; she was the money maker in the marriage. From what Frank was witnessing, it more than apparent that Hank’s back was not bothering him very much this day. Martha was cumming. Her eyes were tightly closed, head shook wildly side to side, and she moaned through clenched teeth. When she had passed the summit of her climax, she lowered her head upon a cushion and tried to regain her breath. One of her hands reached back, through her legs, to cup the swinging balls of her fucker. Once upon a time, Frank could have forgiven her this infidelity. Frank had come of age as a member of the free love generation, but when he and Martha had become engaged, they had agreed to a totally monogamous relationship. For thirty-two years Frank had been faithful to his wife, and apparently up until today, Martha had been true to him. However, forgiveness requires a deep and abiding love, which was something Frank no longer felt. He did not wish her harm, but no longer cared for her in the way a man should love his wife. That is not to say he didn’t love her, but the emotion he felt toward her was more of the type of love, which a brother has for a sister. As Frank watched his wife being fucked by the neighbor, he felt as if someone had died. The same feeling that had come over him, at the death of his parents swept over him. He knew with certainty that his marriage had died. With that sort of insight that is often born amidst tragedy, he saw clearly what he needed to do, and turning from the sliding doors he went and retrieved the papers he had forgotten that morning. When he had gathered up the needed folder, he returned and glanced one last time between the doors and saw his wife kneeling in front of the neighbor. Hank looked down at her, and as a wicked grin crossed his face, he fed his slick cock into her mouth. Hank’s hips bucked rapidly forwards and backwards, his large belly smacking into the top of her head, until he suddenly shoved himself deep between her lips. He grunted sharply and clenched his buttocks, his cum shooting into the mouth of the woman. Frank could see some of the cum seeping from the side of Martha’s lips, as she swallowed the sperm of her lover. Sighing deeply in resignation, Frank turned and walked out the front door of his house, for the final time. Other than the folder he had forgotten, he took nothing with him, nor did he pause for a final look around the place where he had lived in for so long. He simply and quietly left. Once upon a time never comes again. It was late morning by the time that Frank entered his office in the McMillan building; however, he didn’t rush into see Carl Coffman, but rather took time to write out several letters. He wrote to each of his children, saying only that he and their mother had broken up and that he would be going away for awhile. One of the letters was to Hank Tatum’s wife and explained the events, which had occurred that morning. Frank had debated whether or not to write her, as he didn’t want to cause her any grief, but in the end, he felt that he she deserved to know, what games her husband was playing, while she was hard at work. Another letter was to Martha and described without hostility, everything Frank had witnessed happing in their living room. He told her that he was leaving, and he would not be in contact with her for a long time to come. He mailed the letters to his children by regular post. For the letter to Mrs. Tatum, Frank used the special company courier, with explicit instructions to deliver the letter to Hank’s wife at work, no earlier than 4:45 p.m. that day. He also used the courier for the delivery of Martha’s letter, making sure it was understood that the letter had to be delivered precisely at five that afternoon. The remaining letter was his formal resignation from McMillan & Sons Inc. That last letter he took in person to Carl Coffman, after a short stop at the office of Jeff Hendricks. “Okay,” Carl smiled at him, “now do you have everything?” “Yes,” nodded Frank, “I’ve turned it all over to Jeff Hendricks; he will be handling the negotiations for me.” “No, no,” Carl shook his head, “I need you on this job.” “Look, if I thought for a second that Jeff couldn’t handle it I’d do it, but he will do fine. Besides, I’m through. Here is my resignation. I know I didn’t give any notice, but I’ve just come back from home after catching Martha fucking one of the neighborhood jerks.” “You’re kidding me, right?” “I wish! Anyhow, I am taking off for the tall and uncut. Like I said, if I suspected there would be any trouble with in these coming negotiations, I’d hang around until they were over. I just want to say, it has been a pleasure working with you. You’ve been a good boss and a better friend,” Frank held his handout to the man behind the desk. Carl stood and shook his hand. “Frank, words can’t express how sorry I am for you. I won’t say something trite, like I know what you are going through, because I don’t. Instead of rushing off, why don’t you take some time off? Hell, you can have as long as you want. I know a good lawyer, why don’t you drop around and see her?” “No, Carl. I’m leaving town today, and I don’t plan on ever coming back. I’ve got some things that I want to do, which I’ve put off, for way too long. I’ll be in touch someday.” “Look, don’t do something that you’re going to regret. You run off now and Martha will take you to the cleaners.” “She can clean as much as she desires. I have all I want. Now, I’ve got to run.” Carl Coffman watched his friend walk out of the office, then quickly picked up the phone and called Helen Brown head of human resources, “Helen, listen Frank was just in here and quit. He found is wife boffing some idiot and he is running off. He is clearing completely out of town. You get down and catch him before he gets away. You talk some sense into him, even if it takes the rest of the day. He can have as long off as he needs to get his head together. Do whatever it takes, more money or whatever, just get him to reconsider. You better run or you’ll miss him.” Autumn Winds Helen Brown was 54 years old, stood five feet six inches tall, weighted 121 pound, had graying black hair and steel grey eyes. While she could be as hard as nails when needs warranted, she was a person deeply interested in other people’s welfare and in helping them to resolve their problems. She had worked for McMillan and Sons for close to 26 years, and the news about Frank had shocked her. She considered Frank to be a friend as well as a coworker. Over the years, there had been many times when she and her husband had had dinner with Frank and his wife. She thought that if anyone in the world had a solid marriage, it had to be Frank and Martha, and now that illusion had blown up in her face. “Frank!” she called as she saw him leaving the building, but he didn’t seem to hear her. She broke into a run and dashed out of the door after him. “Frank! Frank Howard, don’t you dare just walk away from me!” “What?” Frank said, as he turned at the sound of his name, “Oh, it’s you Helen.” “That’s all you can say—oh, it’s you Helen? I was beginning to think that you were going to get away from me.” “I sort of wanted to get away quietly.” “Well, you weren’t able to that were you?” “No,” he conceded, “with all the yelling, it was anything but quiet. Helen, I really have to be going. I guess Carl put you on my trail, but there isn’t anything you can say or do that is going to change my mind.” “Change your mind?” she looked at him in mock surprise. “That is the last thing on my mind, but we can at least have a drink together before you have to go, can’t we? I mean, I sort of thought we were friends. We at least should have one from the road. Come on, I’ll even buy.” “Alright, but it won’t do you a bit of good,” he smiled, “I won’t change my mind.” They walked into a small bar and grill, located not far from where Frank had parked his car. It was still before noon, and the rush hadn’t yet started, so they had no problem finding a table. Sitting down, they gave their order to the waitress. Frank sat back and slumped in his chair. “You look beat,” Helen stated the obvious. “Care to talk about it?” “Not really.” “Carl said you caught someone with your wife.” “Carl talks too much. Let’s just say that my marriage came to a sudden, if not overdue end.” “Do you have any idea how long she has been having an affair,” Helen sympathetically asked. “From what I could determine,” Frank grimly said, “today was the only time.” “One time?” gasped Helen in amazement. “You’re willing to throw away all those years you two were married, because of one time?” “It goes a lot deeper than what happened today. My marriage has been free fall for several years; it just impacted the ground today. What happened this morning just speeded up something, which would have happened sooner or later. I think it maybe best that it turned out to be sooner.” “I can understand how you feel,” she told him. “You are hurt, but don’t let that hurt wreak the rest of your life, and everything that you’ve worked to accomplish, with your career.” “You don’t even come close to understanding how I feel.” “What do you know?” Helen’s voice had a keen edge of restrained anger to it. “Do you think you have a monopoly on having an adulterous spouse? Jim has been cheating on me for almost five years, and not with just one person.” “Are you serious? You’re not just saying that, as some sort of ploy, to get me to come back to my job, are you?” “Frank Howard,” her voice rose in wrath, “is that all the better you know me, after all the years that we have worked together?” “Okay,” Frank quickly said, “I’m sorry. I’ve sort of had a bad morning. I had no clue about Jim.” “No course not, because I haven’t let it drive me away. I hate what he has done, almost as much as I hate him; but, I love the things that I have and the lifestyle I enjoy. For awhile, I thought about having an affair myself, but then I realized that would only cheapen me and lower me to Jim’s level. So, I’ve stayed in a loveless marriage and made the best of things. I’m too close to retirement to go and throw away everything because of his infidelities. So much for my sad story, now tell me where are you heading and what your plans are.” “I’m not sure where I’m going,” he admitted, “but it is going to be a long way from here. As for what my plans are, that’s a long story.” “Good,” she smiled, “I don’t have anything pressing, go ahead and tell me.” “Okay, but the quick version, I’m in a hurry,” he paused for a few seconds, as the waitress brought the drinks, and then resumed talking. “You see, I went to school out in Berkley, California back in the late sixties and early seventies.” “No! I never knew that!” she laughed. “I was at school over across the bay, at San Francisco, around that same time.” “Anyhow, I guess I was your quintessential liberal, complete with long hair, beard, and full of idealism. I was involved in all sorts of things, from trying to end the war, to starting up food and medical programs for the poor. I thought I could do something to save the world.” “Wow, that is another thing I never knew about you!” she interrupted him again. “I was a dreamer too, back in those days. Like you, I thought that I could make a difference. I started a rescue project for runaway girls, keeping them out of the hands of pimps and pushers. I’d like to think I did some good. It is totally amazing that, for all the years we’ve worked together, we have had so much in common and but never knew it.” “I never wanted to talk much about those times,” said Frank. “The past is gone, besides having a former hippy as an employee isn’t something most companies want to know about. Anyhow, after I graduated I continued trying to save the world, but when I met and married Martha, I sold out. I left everything that I had helped to build up and came back here to get a job. So, why did you leave your rescue project?” “It is very personal,” she looked down into her drink in silence for a moment, before looking into Frank’s eyes. “I was in love with someone that worked with me. I thought he was the sun, the moon, and all the stars, and for several years everything went great. Then, he began to change. He became involved with hard drugs, and I caught him attacking one of the runaways. Thank God, I stopped him in time! I had him arrested. I had found out he had other arrests for assaulting women. He ended up going to prison. I realized that I had made a terrible mistake, by not making a full background check on him, and because of my error, a girl was almost raped. I had almost caused, what I had been trying to prevent. I quit, came east, fell in love with Jim and got married. Sometimes though, I wish I had stayed with it, but I didn’t. Instead, I grew up and joined the system. It’s not selling out to grow up and take on responsibility. You did it, I did it, and all reasonable people do it.” “So, tell me,” she smiled sympathetically at him, “where are you going? What are your plans? “Well, I’ll tell you, but you’re going to think I’m crazy. The world is fucked up worse now than it was when we were kids,” Frank shook his head, “and I’m going out to save it.” “Frank, that’s impossible!” she said sharply. “No man can save the world.” “No one ever will, if that is how everyone feels,” he smiled grimly. “I’m getting older, but I’ve got enough time and strength left, to make one last crusade—I’m going to give it a try. This isn’t some midlife crisis, where I’m hoping to recapture my youth. I have always regretted walking away from helping the poor. I walked away, because I loved Martha, and I wanted the best for her. I won’t say that I haven’t enjoyed my job, because I have; however, there are other things, more worthwhile to do in this world. Maybe I can’t change much in the world, but just maybe, I can do some good before I cash in my chips. I don’t know if I can make the least bit of difference, but I do know I have to give it a try.” “What about everything that you have here? Are you just going to walk away from that?” “I’m not walking away empty handed. I made two stops before I came back to the office this morning. I cleaned out most of the checking account, and a major saving account. So, I’m coming away with a little over ninety thousand dollars. That will hold me for a bit.” “But what about your house, your investments, your other properties—are you just going to leave all that?” “Martha is welcome to it all,” he sighed, “those are just material things. I think, I got caught up too much with material things, and I forgot the things that are really important in life. I don’t hate Martha, and I don’t want to punish her. I wish her well, but it is time to do, what I’ve been wanting to do for a long time, but didn’t have the courage to undertake. Okay, so call me a foolish aging man, but I’m going.” “I don’t call you foolish,” Helen sadly shook her head. “I think you are a very hurt man, but I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. Now, that you’ve explained it, I can see where you’re coming from, and I have to admire you for it. I really think that you should stay right here and see everything resolved before going.” “I don’t think so,” he said finishing the last of his drink and shaking his head. “The time to act is now.” “I’ve been thinking, and you know something that really has me upset?” Helen gave a humorless laugh. “You were able to make two stops and come up with over ninety thousand dollars. Most of our money is tied up in real estate I don’t think that I could pull together more than fifty thousand, and it would take me three stops to do that. It must be great to have mad money.” “I’ve got to run to the men’s room and then I’ve got to be going. You take care and it has been a pleasure working with you.” “Hold everything! Don’t you run off to the men’s room and expect me to vanish. I’ll walk you to your car. Deal?” “Yeah, okay,” he smiled at her as he stood up, “only you had better walk fast.” She watched him leave the room and sat deep in thought. She wished that she had more time to work everything out. Frank was forcing the issue. She weighed all the options, but her mind wavered on a course of action. “Damn, that fool!” she thought, “We are so alike. Only fools follow their dreams. There he goes like Don Quixote, but without his Sancho Panza. He is going to fall right on his nose, and there won’t be anyone around to pick him up. Fool! Damn fool! This is ridiculous, there are no choices left.” She reached into her purse, pulled out her cell phone and called Carl Coffman’s number. Carl wasn’t going to like the news she had to tell him, he wasn’t going to like it one bit. She had just finished talking to Carl, when she saw Frank coming back. “There is only one thing I want to know, Frank,” she said as she stood up and grabbed him by the arm, as if she was afraid he might run away. “And what is that?” “Can we stop at three banks and my house on the way out of town? I just quit. Don’t stand there with your mouth open like that—times wasting; there’s many miles to go before we sleep.” Two people stepped out into the autumn wind on their way to save the world.