A failing marriage, a caring man, and a new life.

In 4 parts, by  r a wallace. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Chapter 9:

Wendy

I was lost in my thoughts as I waited on the park bench. Despite all that had happened here I found the park offered me a glimpse of what could be- parents with children, people walking dogs, laughter, and couples holding hands. When I saw Robb approach I felt the weight of the world come off my shoulders. His off-beat question made me laugh, it was the perfect introduction.

“This may be your lucky day, Sir. It just so happens I require coffee frequently, though if anything, I’m addicted to weird men. Weird mind you, not strange.”

“That does seem peculiar, weird, rather than strange. I’m not sure I know the difference.”

 “I think it would be worth discussing over a hot cup of coffee,” I quipped.

“Indeed.”

We started walking toward the coffee shop two blocks away.

“So, how has your day gone?” he inquired pleasantly.

“It’s been pretty good. I’m caught up on my files, and the new one they gave me looks interesting. So, work is good. I called my lawyer and told him I want action, no more waiting for something to happen.”

“Sounds like a good day,” he offered.

I smiled. “The best part was finding a man who would buy me coffee and keep me company for a while.”

“Hmmm, sounds as if it has been a productive day, does the guy know you favor your coffee black?”

“Yes, I wonder what else he knows about me?” I giggled, which wasn’t like me.

“Oh, I think he loves your smile and that little dimple that shows up when you do- it makes his day. He likes your wavy black hair that frames your beautiful brown eyes. He knows you’re smart and vulnerable, but you’re willing to advocate for yourself, those kinds of things. He also thinks you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“Does he think I’m emotionally unstable?” I asked cautiously.

He stopped walking, gently took my arm, and looked at me, “He thinks you’re brave, resilient, angry, in pain, and want to be treated with respect and dignity. He thinks you’re capable and willing to move your life forward at your own pace. He knows it takes time to get over some things and will give you all the time needed to find your way. He knows you’re honest and that he can trust you. Unstable no, in transition, yes.”

We started walking again and I felt tears come to my eyes. It felt good knowing someone actually understood me and the uncertainty that surrounded me. Clara had tried to console me, but some of the things she said, though well intended, told me she really didn’t appreciate my circumstances.

We stopped to cross the street and I glanced at Robb, he took my arm and pulled me onto the grass.

“I think you can use a hug.”

His arms came around me and I fell into him and closed my eyes. It felt so wonderful simply to be held. The affection warming me, after a minute he asked if I wanted to keep going. I nodded my head and mumbled I was. When we parted he was looking at me, his eyes were so caring.

He took his hand and moved a few stray hairs from my cheek. “Where’s the smile I came to see? A smile makes you glow, it brings out the wonderful woman I know is hiding behind those teary eyes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little, he made me feel good about myself.

“It’s here for you,” I said smiling.

_

Wendy

Two weeks later my lawyer called to say my husband had signed the divorce papers and he was filing them at the courthouse.

“So, I’m free?”

“Your marriage is dissolved and you are free to lead your life as you wish,” he replied.

Only the financial dealings had to be completed and I would receive half of our marital assets. It was done, I was single again.

I thanked him and told him to send me the final bill. That way the ordeal was over once and for all. I hung up and felt a weight come off my shoulders. I can’t say I was euphoric at the news, but it was liberating. That part of my life was history and now I could look to the future. The next thing I did was pick up my phone and send a text to Robb. I was buying us dinner tonight. We had talked several times and gone for coffee once each week, all the while I felt a little apprehensive despite my best efforts not to be.

I knew what they said about rebound relationships and I was leery of making a commitment of some kind. If there was one thing I wanted, and needed it was what I had gotten the first time I was with Robb. I know women aren’t expected to want to have sex for the sole purpose of enjoying it. The stereotype had always bothered me, and the church women swore it belonged only within the confines of marriage as the good Lord intended.

Well, I wasn’t married anymore and my body told me in no uncertain terms what it wanted. I had squirmed in my seat both times as we sat having coffee together. Both times I wanted to reach across the table and kiss him until he took me on the floor. That fantasy had played out in my mind more than once over the last month.

Robb

When Wendy called and told me her marriage was over, the papers signed, I felt a sense of what? I wasn’t sure other than I was happy her struggle to be free of her husband was over. But, what did it mean for me? After having coffee together the past two weeks we both knew she would be free soon and though we didn’t come right out and say it, we knew it would change the way we saw one another.

She had been relaxed more than ever and her sense of humor and demeanor made her even more attractive. Our first, and only, night together, came to me again and again. It would never be the same, at least the motivations wouldn’t be. She had shown signs of confidence and independence once she had moved out of the house with her husband. She had the maturity that comes with being married and of dealing with all the emotions that such a breakup creates.

Wendy had become far more willing to touch me and she flirted more than ever. We kept our boundaries intact based upon her married status. Now, she wasn’t married and she could do whatever she wanted with her life. For the first time I wondered if my utility to her was at an end. I had to admit to myself I didn’t want it to be. I knew that I should be patient and not to rush into anything. She might be single now, but I was sure her husband had caused emotional damage she had yet to recognize and deal with. It was best I tread carefully for both our sakes.

Wendy

I got off of work and hurried home to freshen up. I had texted Clara and gave her the news my divorce was finalized. When she walked in the door as I came out of the bathroom she looked at me with a broad smile.

“You look pretty chipper I must say. I’m sure it feels good to be free of that bastard.”

“I do feel good. I’m taking Robb out to dinner tonight to celebrate. I’m wouldn’t have made it this far without his help, or yours other. But, I don’t want to even think about Cecil… err… ex husband now. He’s history and I want to move on.”

“Okay, no more about ‘him’. You know it will be different with Robb now that you’re single again. I mean you haven’t slept with him yet. I hope he doesn’t expect you’ll want to hop right into bed with him now that you can.”

My mind froze. I had slept with him, but I… oh my god! I knew I wanted to again. Was it a good idea? It would be different. What was I thinking?

“I don’t think it will be a problem. He hasn’t given me any indication he’s looking for that.”

“He does like you doesn’t he? I mean you keep seeing one another and it suggests to me there’s something more between the two of you.”

I felt my stomach tighten as my mind raced to formulate a response that didn’t reveal my infidelity while I was married. I’d never been a good liar.

“I think there is a special bond between us. He helped me over the toughest part of my divorce. I guess I can honestly say I wouldn’t have seen it through to the end without him.”

I looked at my watch and told her I had to get going if I were to be on time. I heard her tell me she hoped I would have a good time tonight. I hoped so too now that she had pointed out the basis of our relationship would change. It hadn’t occurred to me that it would, though I should have known better.

I walked out to my car and drove to the park after I decided I should tell my parents the divorce was completed. They had always thought my husband was a good match for me and when I told them I wanted out they were unhappy. It was one of the reasons I had stayed in the marriage and tried to work things out as long as I had.

I could tell my mother was resigned to the reality as I hung up. I had my life back and I was going to make it my own. I’d been too immature to ignore their feelings in the past and I was determined I would be my own person from here on out.

I left the park and headed to the restaurant to meet Robb. I was a little late, the conversation with my mother took longer than expected. When I walked to the entrance and saw Robb’s smile as I approached I felt fluttery inside. Damn he looked handsome as my eyes swept over him. I felt a little awkward once I stopped in front of him, not knowing exactly what I should say, or do. I could hug and kiss him now if I wanted and not feel guilty, or ashamed. I was trying to wrap my head around the concept when he held out his hand for mine.

“You look wonderful. I like the necklace, especially where it enters your cleavage,” he said with a mischievous expression.

I felt my face flush red, something I wasn’t prone to do.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Thank you,” I stammered, “I mean for noticing the necklace, not the other things.”

“I’ll try to be more considerate,” he replied quietly as he held my hand.

I was flustered, feeling like my first date in high school. “You’re considerate enough.”

We sat down at a table and ordered our food. I avoided any mention of my ex-husband, saying only this dinner was in celebration of the start of a new life. Our conversation was light, refreshing, and he told me his parents would be visiting him in a few weeks. When I asked if he were on good terms with them he smiled.

“I’m still the apple of my mother’s eyes and dad is proud of the work I do, even though he doesn’t understand much about computers. So, I would say I’m doing pretty well.”

“Do they say anything about not being married?”

“No, not really. I mean they were disappointed when I stopped seeing my last girlfriend as they hoped I would propose to her.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked cautiously, not sure I should ask. But, he had brought it up, not me.

“She was unfaithful,” his voice with a hint of sadness.

“I’m sorry.” I said honestly.

“I wanted you to know at least that much in case it comes up in the future.”

Maybe I was making more out of his statement then he intended, but it seemed as if he expected we would have a future relationship of some kind. It made me feel good thinking it could happen. We finished our meal after having decided we would take a walk afterward, dropping my car at his apartment as he would drive to the river walk not far away.

There wasn’t any indication Robb felt out of sorts as I paid the bill before we left, though he did ask if he could leave the tip and I agreed. It was very generous and I was sure it was because the young lady that waited on us was quite attractive. It made me feel like an old married lady at 26. He saw my expression as he placed the money in the middle of the table, and gave me a shy smile.

“She did a good job and deserves it. In terms of what you’re thinking, you would have gotten a larger tip.”

I chuckled, “You don’t know exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Oh, men are simple enough. We like good looking women and don’t hide it very well when we do. In your case, I don’t intend to hide it.”

Again, I felt myself blush. My ex had seldom ever said something so bold, or truthful whe

By R A Wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Chapter 6: Second Thoughts

Wendy

We talked for almost an hour and I found myself laughing at his lame jokes. Though he did a pretty good job at laughing at mine too. After we hung up I felt wonderful. He had laughed at my favorite lawyer joke: How many lawyers does it take to shingle a roof? He had made a few guesses, and when I gave him the punch line: It depends on how thin you slice them. He laughed, then continued to chuckle as we talked. I felt so good knowing I had entertained him. It was the most fun I’d had in a long time.

“Well, you look like you’re in a good mood, Clara grinned as I walked out into the living room and sat down. Who was that you were talking to?”

“How well do you know him? It sounded as if he has a good sense of humor to make you laugh like that.”

The question jolted me and my mind tried to parse the question.

How well did I know him? I didn’t know him that well, I mean we… I had him…

“Come on, it can’t be that difficult to answer,” Clara chided with a smile.

“I’ve seen him one time, he gave me his number, and I accidently dialed it instead of my mother’s.”

“And you talked with him for how long?”

“I don’t know, a while. He asked me out for coffee and I told him no.”

“So, once things are settled with your husband are you going to call him again and see if he’ll take you out?”

“Really, I don’t know, I haven’t given it any thought.” Then I realized I hadn’t deleted his contact information as I had planned to do. I didn’t want to second guess myself as I had enjoyed talking with him– I decided to leave him in my contacts.

“You know you could ask him out, you’re not that old fashioned are you? I mean you could have him over to hang out.”

“I suppose I could once I have my own apartment and my husband is history.”

“You know I don’t mind having you here.”

“I know, thank you. But, I will have to move on with my life and getting my own apartment seems important in that respect.”

Robb

After ending my talk with Wendy I took a root beer out of the fridge and sat down with a bag of pretzels. I was surprised when the first call came, then disappointed it had been by mistake. She had been honest about it and… well… it was nice to hear her voice. I was engaged in reading when the second call came and after talking for a while it seemed as if she had taken my advice and sought a divorce.

The longer we talked the more relaxed she seemed to be. Making her laugh was delightful as I could see her eyes sparkle while those sweet lips showed a white smile in my mind. The surprise was she had a wonderful sense of humor herself, and I found myself laughing more than I had in a long while. That was when I suggested we have coffee together. When she declined the air went out of the balloon in a whoosh.

When she explained the reason I felt better, she was right of course, she was married. The situation was thankfully different than before and I couldn’t help but feel good about it. We kind of ended our talk without really saying goodbye, it was as if she were leaving the door open. I hoped she was and this time my feelings were less than altruistic– I wanted to feel her body naked against mine again.

Chapter 7: Caving In

Wendy

I was at work two days later having lunch with several of my coworkers and found my mind wandering. It was the second time in as many days Robb had come to mind– the sound of his laugh in particular.

“Well, that was some smile,” Ruby said, bringing me out of my reveille, “I haven’t seen you smile like that in weeks, it’s nice to see.” The others nodded their agreement.

I returned to my desk with a few minutes left before my lunch break was over. I took my phone out and sent a text message to Robb suggesting we meet in the park, then go for coffee if he wasn’t busy. I pressed send, my heart beating a little faster. Sure, I was still married, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t meet a friend, did it?

I was working on a document when my phone vibrated on my desktop. I picked it up hoping it was a response from Robb accepting my proposition. It was! So much for my ability to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. Though a few minutes later there was another reason too– my husband had left a message with the receptionist saying he wanted to see me today. I didn’t call him back, continuing to take my lawyer’s advice. Damn, it seemed as if the day had turned into a mixed bag as my lawyer had called to tell me my husband’s lawyer was trying to slow things down.

Robb

I was surprised when I saw the text from Wendy since she had said she was still married and it wasn’t a good idea. I wondered now if she were having a problem of some kind. Our last phone call had been comfortable enough until the very end. I hesitated for a few minutes before responding, what did I have to lose? I was already involved with her and once she was divorced there was the chance of continuing our relationship in some fashion– besides, I wasn’t seeing anyone else. I sent a ‘yes’ and provided a time I would be there. I had to admit I was surprised she wanted to meet at the park, though maybe it was a way for her to deal with what had transpired there– a way of getting past it.

Wendy

I strolled out of the lobby to my car with a smile of anticipation, surprised at how much I was looking forward to seeing Robb again. It was a fifteen minute drive to the park from work and when I arrived I got out and stretched, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. I elected to take the bench in the shade of a tree rather than the one in the distance where Robb and I had met first. I didn’t need for him to remember the wretched woman he had found that day. I could have suggested another location, but I had to deal with my demons too.

I was sitting watching as people walked, biked, and roller-bladed on the paved path not far away. I closed my eyes and took in the whisper of the leaves in the tree as a gentle breeze hit my skin. It was then I heard a voice and felt myself stiffen– it was my husband. I had no choice, I turned to face him.

“You didn’t make it easy for me to talk to you,” he said in a stern voice.

“That’s because I don’t see a need for us to talk. What I saw was enough to tell me our trial separation hadn’t worked; at least not for me. You had your chance and didn’t use it. So, just leave me alone, I’m not changing my mind.”

“Pastor Davis has agreed to meet with us. I’ve been praying for our marriage to work, and the Lord has told me I’ve been forgiven. But, he had to teach me a hard lesson. Wendy, I want you to come home, so we can start over. You’re my wife and I want you to honor your commitment.”

I just stared at him, honor my commitment to him! I guess it doesn’t work in reverse. Maybe I should have prayed to the Lord harder, so he could make me understand, and be forgiving.

“Wendy, I’ll give you a few days to pray for us, for our marriage. I’m sure if you ask for guidance he will grant it to you.”

I looked at him, trying to project calmness and confidence. “I’m not interested in prayer, Pastor Davis, or you. Tell your lawyer to move forward on the divorce, so we can both move on with our lives. That’s all I want. I want this to be finished.”

“I just want one thing from you right now, just share a kiss with me so you’ll see there is still something between us, that the love given to us by the Lord remains.”

Before I could protest he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. I resisted, trying to back away knowing I didn’t want him touching me. I found the thought of a kiss revolting– my lips on his wasn’t going to happen. I felt a hand come to my other arm and grasp it firmly, then saw him leaning toward me.

“No! Let me go!” I shouted as he closed the distance.

Robb

I was walking into the park looking for Wendy and was certain I saw her sitting on a bench under a tree. Continuing on, I saw a man approach, stand for a moment, then sit down next to her. I was sure I was mistaken now, and turned my gaze to the other benches around the park. I didn’t see a lone women sitting anywhere and was thinking she’d been held-up by traffic and hadn’t arrived yet. I looked back to where I saw the man and woman sitting just as I heard a shout. I was close enough now I could tell it was Wendy– she was struggling with the man.

I rushed up to the bench yelling. “Leave her alone, get the hell away from her.”

I saw him stop, still holding her arms, to look at me,as I stopped a few feet away. He looked at me surprised.

“This is my wife, get lost. We have things to talk about.”

“It doesn’t look to me like she wants to talk, or whatever it is you’re trying to get out of her.”

“I told you, get lost. We’ll work this out.”

“Okay, here’s the way it’s going to work. You let go of her, she tells me she wants to talk with you, and I leave. If you don’t, I call 911 and get the cops here to sort things out. I don’t leave until they get here. Your choice.”

I watched as he slowly released her and turned to me with a glare. “This woman is mine, she is my wife, and she knows what it means. She had better understand I deserve another chance and I’m not giving up just because her lawyer talks to mine.”

I watched as he turned to Wendy. “I want to talk with you right now, I’m tired of the run arounds. I won’t do anything else other than talk.”

I looked at Wendy and saw she wasn’t happy. Then she nodded.

Wendy

I heard a voice and looked to where it came from and saw it was Robb. My husband released his grip on my arms and I moved to the far end of the bench. I knew my husband wouldn’t be aggressive with Robb, I’d seen him back down too often. Still, I was happy to have Robb there as his grip on my arms had been painful. This was the second time he had tried to force himself upon me and I was more fearful than ever before of how he viewed me.

I decided to talk with him now. Robb would be near and would come to my rescue if my husband tried to take me with him by force– a real possibility I felt now.

I watched as Robb moved to a bench nearby and sat down as we looked at one another.

“You know that guy?” my husband asked.

“I’ve talked with him once, now what is it you want to talk about?” My stomach clenched at not having told the truth.

“I want you to come home, meet with Pastor Davis, and agree to meet with some of the Christian women to learn more about how you should behave at home. I know you were raised in a different religion, but you need to practice what our church teaches. I want you to be ready to start a family, so it means getting off birth control– which you know is against what our church teaches.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “Let me get straight to the point. I don’t want to be married to you anymore, and I certainly don’t want to have your children. If you bother me again I’ll seek a restraining order against you. I don’t want to do that, so if you agree to the divorce this whole thing will end and we can go our separate ways. I hope you understand I’m not coming back to you.”

“You can’t mean that, you can’t. We have a lot invested in our marriage. No other man will know you the way I have known you.”

I laughed. “I wasn’t a virgin when I married you. You knew that, now you want to make sure after you there will never be another? You get a little bit stranger each time we talk. I can’t help but wonder if you’re not reading and talking to the wrong people in your church. I didn’t sign up for your brand of religion and version of marriage, at least not the kind you represent now.”

“If you seek the comfort of another man while we are married you’ll be condemned to hell, you know that. Think about it, I’ll give you three days to let me know and if I ever see you with that guy again he’ll pay.”

I knew my husband was a wuss, he always backed down when it looked as if another guy would touch him.

“Well, make him start paying now. We’re going to have coffee together, that’s what friends do in the real world.”

“So, you admit you were going to meet him here?”

“Why should I lie about it? We have coffee and talk, that’s more than I care to do with you. One thing I do know, if you mess with him he’ll beat your ass. So, I suggest you get up and walk away and not use your mouth in a way that will get you into trouble– the cops may have to come to save you otherwise.”

My husband glanced towards Robb, then back to me. “He’d better not touch you while you’re married.”

“He won’t touch me unless I want him to, I can trust him. It’s too bad I can’t say the same thing about you anymore. Do you think it would make any difference to me now anyway?”

“You wouldn’t,” he glared.

I smiled wickedly, got up from the park bench, and walked toward Robb without a word. I was finished talking, at least with him. It was time for coffee with someone I wanted to spend time with. Let the bastard think whatever he wanted. I would do what felt right for me for a change.

No dating until after the divorce was final was what the lawyers touted–don’t leave your home, you remain living there. Bullshit, there was legal and there was common sense. I’d removed myself from the pain living there caused me each and every day– the only mistake I had made was in not leaving sooner.

I no longer felt connected to my faith. Not that it hadn’t been building for a long time, but recent events had simply proven it was all so much hogwash. I could never accept everything from my own religious upbringing and my marriage had simply amplified what I had found difficult to believe.

Pray, pray, and pray some more, the Lord will show you the way. I prayed with my fellow parishioners and the result didn’t change what happened. That individual, or those people suffered, and when it didn’t change for the better everyone said it was the Lord’s will. Have faith, and we would go on to pray again for something else with the same, horrible, result. Not that the Moslems didn’t do the same damn thing, they were as screwed up as the Jews I had concluded.

Robb

I watched as Wendy talked with her husband. He glanced over to me several times and when Wendy got up and started walking towards me he stood up, glared hard, then walked away. When Wendy was within a few steps I saw she seemed calm, not upset at all, as if it had been cathartic for her.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. As you might have guessed I wasn’t expecting him to be here. He stopped at my office and left a message he wanted to see me today. I didn’t see him, or his car when I left the parking lot. I guess he must have followed me. Thank you for coming to my aid again. I’m afraid I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“Wendy, don’t put yourself down, there’s no reason for it as far as I can tell. I don’t know you well, but I want to have the chance to.”

“You don’t believe you’ll go to hell for spending time with a married woman?” she asked half joking.

“No. I don’t believe in things like that as I’m not religious. I guess if I were I wouldn’t have helped you in the way you wanted me to when we first met. Does that bother you?” I mean, that I’m not invested in some all-knowing deity?“

"No, in fact, right now I consider it plus. Would you mind if I pay for our coffees? I think I owe you at least that this time,” she offered.

“Coffee, no sex?” I smiled with a mischievous look on my face as we started walking toward the coffee shop.

“Would that be a deal breaker, the sex I mean?” she asked earnestly.

“Not at all, I want you to know that what we did the first time isn’t what I expected to happen this time. You wanted something to throw in his face when you saw him, but you didn’t do it did you?”

Wendy

I was surprised that he would be so perceptive, but he was right. I decided not to use my tryst against him. Not that it didn’t come to mind as I sat with my husband. I felt it would reflect more on me in a negative way than him. I also didn’t need to provide him with ammunition to use against me if he wanted to contest the divorce. Even meeting Robb this time may have given him something if that was his intention.

“No, but I didn’t want to get you involved in this either.”

“I’m a big boy, and frankly, I can be stubborn about some things.”

We spent over two hours talking after getting coffee. I told him I was going to get my own apartment when I found something I liked. Then I would move the rest of my belongings from home before the divorce was final. I told him I hoped my husband was convinced after our little talk I wasn’t coming back to him, and that I wouldn’t have to be so careful about seeing him.

We stood next to each other after throwing our paper cups into the trash bin and walked across the street to my parked car. I stood looking at him and felt his hand come to take mine and hold it. The thrill I felt warmed me, my heart beat as if I were a young girl again. Looking up at him I was sure my face flushed red– but it wore a smile. I so much wanted to kiss him for making me feel so grand.

“Okay if I call you?”

“Any time you want. Thank you for being here for me, good night.”

Chapter 8: More Husband Problems

Wendy

I had to admit my husband was being far more aggressive than I had ever seen him before. I hadn’t been able to understand his behavior over the past year. He had started to quote Scripture to me more than he had before. I had attempted to talk to him about it and he got defensive, telling me I should pray for guidance. At first, his time with Joanne had seemed innocent enough. I trusted him, I trusted her as far as that went. She was always educating me about my responsibilities as a wife, and after a while I thought they were tag-teaming me.

I didn’t expect him to be so persistent in trying to get me to counseling after having ignored me for so long. His behavior was erratic, but not dangerous until our last two encounters. It was like he couldn’t accept I was rejecting him like he had rejected me. I hoped he would finally see the light and sign the papers to end our marriage.

Despite my husband’s appearance I was in a good mood after spending time with Robb. We had talked about our childhood, relating our most embarrassing moments. Laughing at what we’d done and now considered just plain stupid. It was liberating to be so honest with him. He didn’t hold much back, he had a self-deprecating sense of humor that showed how confident he was in himself.

That night I slipped into bed and felt perhaps something good would come out the day after all. I would call my lawyer tomorrow and tell him about my husband’s statement I had three days to return home to him. He hadn’t said it in a threatening way and I took it as applying more pressure to get me home where he would have more control over me. I knew what my lawyer was going to say– I should have stayed in the house.

Robb

I left Wendy and headed home thinking she had a lot on her plate and I didn’t need to add to it. I stayed as positive as I could and really liked seeing her laugh– she had this cute dimple that appeared when she did. I pulled into my parking space, got out, and walked into my apartment to relax for the rest of the evening. I was sitting watching a program on TV when I remembered I had left my lunch containers in the front seat of the car.

I got up knowing if I didn’t wash them out they would be really funky by morning. I opened the door to my apartment and saw someone bending down near the rear of my car. I stepped out thinking one of my neighbors had dropped something and was picking it up. It didn’t take but a few seconds for me to recognize the shirt the guy was wearing; it was Wendy’s husband. I walked down the sidewalk and approached my car without saying anything, and he didn’t see me.

I got closer and it must have been the air escaping from the v

A chance at a new life.

by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Wendy

I woke the next morning lying beside a man who wasn’t my husband and felt good about it. I didn’t feel a bit of guilt as I looked at him. I’d done two, one-night stands in my life and wasn’t excited with what I found next to me in the morning. One of the reasons I had sworn off drinking before meeting my husband. The amazing part was, I didn’t feel a bit horny at the moment and wondered if that was going to be a problem–would he want more from me now?

I felt a movement, then Robb rolled over toward me, his eyes open. When he saw me looking at him he smiled, causing me smile back.

“Could you spare a kiss this morning? He asked.

"You mean could I spare a kiss and something else?”

“A kiss and then you let me hold you for a while. The something else is up to you.”

I laughed as I rolled over onto him, “Make way mister, you’re going to get an armful of woman.”

I snuggled into him and heard him reply. “You mean an armful of beautiful woman.”

The words melted me immediately. If he had wanted to control me for his pleasure, he had me–no contest. We lay together not speaking for a while, his hands caressing my leg and arm. I kissed his neck a few times, then snuggled and closed my eyes again–he pulled me closer. I could hear his heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall, and smell him. When was the last time I had been so intimate and comfortable with a man? I couldn’t remember for sure. It was sad, but I couldn’t, not even with my husband.

Shit! My husband. I was going to have to go home and face him today. Would he even notice I hadn’t come home? If he did would he even care? Knowing him, his only concern was that I would make him look bad–his wife not home and obedient where she should be. He would push for me to attend Fellowship with him in the afternoon to keep up appearances with the congregation. I pushed the thought away as my stomach tightened.

I’d make this time with Robb last another hour, then face the reality of my life. At this juncture I realized I had one to live thanks to someone who cared enough for a woman crying on a park bench to intervene. It was as incredible as it seemed I realized. I was lying in bed with a man in my panties after he had promised to do what I asked of him to end my despair.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

“Yes, actually I am.”

“Does scrambled eggs, corned-beefed hash, and toast sound good to you?”

The words made my mouth start to water. I realized I hadn’t eaten but the Danish since the previous morning. My stomach gave an audible growl and I placed my hand over it as if it would hush it.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’”, he laughed lightly.

“I have to pee,” I slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

I finished my business, washed my hands, than looked into the mirror while running my fingers through my hair. I thought I looked hideous. Then I thought again about why I was here in the first place.

That’s what a tart looks like. At least a satisfied one.

I swallowed hard, opened the bathroom door, and walked into the bedroom to see Robb sitting on the edge of the bed in his briefs. When he saw me his jaw dropped.

“My god! Wendy, you’re gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down to see my breasts standing proud, my flat stomach, pantie clad pelvis, my shapely legs, and my red polished toenails. The sunlight coming in through the window hitting my skin warmed it ever so slightly. I looked up at him as he rose from the bed with a smile. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do– grab me and take me without asking?

“My turn. Why don’t you get dressed, I’ll join you in a minute, so we can eat.”

The bathroom door closed and I walked to where my blouse and skirt lie on the floor. His words, his expression, his smile of obvious delight with my appearance all came back to me. I put my bra on, finished dressing, and sat on the edge of the bed looking around. The bedroom was tastefully decorated and there was no sign in the form of a photograph, or other articles suggesting he had a girlfriend.

Okay, if he was unattached that made it easier, I wasn’t the 'other woman’. At least I hoped I wasn’t. I knew who my husband was screwing when I saw them from the hallway– she headed the prayer group that met on Friday nights almost every week.

I had gone to several of them and stopped going as it was too much for me– touting how a woman should respect her husband and honor his wishes even if she weren’t entirely onboard with it. Yes, she espoused Christian women bear the fruit of the Spirit- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Well, so much for faithfulness and self-control parts. Peace might work too if you spelled it 'piece’ and added two words.

She was thin, with big boobs, and blonde hair that came out of a bottle. I’d met her husband twice and he made my husband look really good by comparison. It was obvious to me some of her prayers hadn’t been answered. That, or God’s plan for her was as flawed as my own. My husband was so deep into her they never noticed I was in the house. I had simply left in tears, devastated at the sight.

Robb

I was a little nervous as I opened my eyes–was she going to be ashamed, guilty, for what we’d done last night? Seeing her in the dim light the night before gave me hints she was well-endowed. It hadn’t taken much effort to get her to orgasm. In fact, I had hardly gotten started when she gasped, and I felt her muscles contact around me. When she got on top she didn’t hold anything back– she went all out. It was when she walked out of the bathroom that I saw her in full light for the first time– she was absolutely beautiful. Her husband had to be a real piece of work to walk away from someone like her.

I was pleased I’d taken a low profile approach and brought her into my arms to comfort her when we woke. When she smiled her teeth showed from between nicely formed lips, her blue eyes sparkled. Though I knew it unwise to feel so protective, it made me want to never let her go. I reminded myself again she was separated from her husband, not divorced. She could go back to him, they could work things out. There are always two sides to a story– I could be the one to ruin their marriage. I had to admit it bothered me. Shit, what was I thinking? After what I saw, this woman was hurting and I had done the right thing by her.

Don’t overthink this dude, she needed someone, and you were there.

Wendy

I sat with a glass of orange juice as he made breakfast. I felt a little awkward just sitting there doing nothing. My husband would never cook because that was a woman’s job. I tried to lighten the mood a little by asking Robb what he had planned for the day– at least it was a safe question.

“I volunteer at the Community Food Bank, so I’ll be working there most of the afternoon.”

“Really, that sounds nice, I bet you meet a lot of interesting people there.”

“I do, but sometimes it’s hard to see how many people with young children have to rely on it. I never knew how many people live right on the edge until I started there. It makes me appreciate I have a good education and a well-paying job.”

“So, what do you do?”

“Computer Aided Design, CAD, for an engineering firm. It pays well and has regular hours. How about you?”

It struck me that after talking with him for hours I’d never mentioned my job once. But, then in my emotional state that was the last thing on my mind.

“I work as a clerical for a law firm, close to a paralegal I guess, but they don’t pay me for that.”

“Wendy, I have to ask. How are you feeling? Are you going to be ready to go home and feel safe?”

“He’s not abusive physically, so I’m not worried about that. But, in all honesty I’m dreading having to spend the afternoon with him, and I know he’ll demand it.”

“Do you want to stay another few hours?”

“Thanks, but I know I should go home, take a shower, and get into some fresh clothes. I’m going to have to deal with it and a few hours here won’t change anything. Robb, about last night. Thank you, I mean that. I needed what you gave me. You saved me from hurting myself.”

“I think you should get some professional help. That is if you can afford it.”

“I can’t, but I’ll deal with this. I’ve been putting off making the decision, but after yesterday I know I’m damned if I don’t.”

“What decision is that?”

“I want to get a divorce and move on with my life. Thanks to you, I recognize killing myself wasn’t the way to punish him. He would have won in a way, and I don’t want that. Call it what you will, a form of revenge in a way, if I leave him. I have friends, family, and a job that pays enough to live on if I do.”

We sat silent for a minute, eating in silence. Then I looked up at him with a smile. “I promise not to do something stupid.”

“I want to believe that,” he replied with a firm expression.

I reached for my shoulder bag hanging on the empty chair next to me, and took out the pistol, handing it to him butt first.

“Here, keep this.”

He took the pistol from my hand and placed it on the counter behind him, then looked at me.

“I suppose I should take you home.”

“Yes, but not home. Back to the park, I can walk from there, I don’t…”

“I know. You don’t need to say it. I wouldn’t want to make things any harder for you.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Wendy, give me your phone so I can put my contact information in it. Just in case… well… in case you need a friend again. By the way, you stayed with my wife Cindy and me last night. You know her from… let’s see… she’s one of your clients from work.”

I took my phone out and handed it to him. When he gave it back I checked and saw he had put in 'Robb, Com. Food Bank’. I looked at him with a frown.

“Just in case someone looks at your contacts. No reason for a man’s first and last name to show up– it might cause problems. If someone asks, you may decide to volunteer, and I’m the contact person.”

I was pretty much lost in thought as he drove me to the park. I felt myself tense, my stomach going into knots. I got out before Robb could attempt to open the door for me and looked back into the car– my emotions mixed with good and bad.

“Robb, thank you. I know it sounds lame, but you made a difference, a big one. I can’t explain why I asked you to do what I asked of you, maybe it was because I wanted to feel like a desirable woman again.”

“Wendy, I can’t pretend to know you, all I can say is you deserve to be happy. Please, don’t throw your life away, do what you need to do to move your life forward. If you ever need a friend to lean on call me. I promise to be there for you.”

I watched as he drove away, then turned and took the first step back to a life filled with problems. Regardless of the outcome, I had a life to rebuild and I was determined to make it better. It was time to face my demons. Robb had given me that chance– I wasn’t going to waste it. I had always been strong in the face of adversity and the one time I had faltered there was someone who cared enough to pull me through. I would always be grateful to him.

Chapter 4: Reflections

Robb

Well, this had been two of the strangest days in my life. I save a woman from killing herself, comfort her by having sex with her, feed her breakfast, and drop her off to return to a husband who doesn’t deserve her. Sure, I was recovering from a failed relationship of long standing, but I had never come close to committing suicide despite the pain. But, depression affects people in different ways and some can climb out of it, others can’t without help. I hoped Wendy had the strength to do what she needed to do to make her life better.

I drove home wondering if I would ever get a phone call from her in the future. After walking in the door I went to put things away in the kitchen– there was the pistol sitting where I had left it. I hefted it, it had been a long time since I had fired a pistol in the military; it still felt familiar. I walked to the bedroom and to the closet, opened my fire safe, and placed it inside along with the rounds I had taken out of the clip.

Wendy

I walked the fifteen minutes home thinking of what I would need to do. I walked in the door after seeing his car in the driveway– he was home. He was sitting in front of the TV watching a car race when I walked in.

“Where have you been? We have to get ready for church in a few hours you know.”

“I stayed with a friend last night. Sorry, I should have called, or left a text.”

He looked at me with a wicked grin, “You go to the bedroom and take your clothes off. We haven’t done it in a while, and I’m feeling you might be good about now.”

I froze, my stomach went tight. If there was something I didn’t want from him that was it.

“I’m not in the mood right now, maybe later.”

“I’m not interested if you’re in the mood, get yourself in the mood. I’ll be in after the race is over in about ten minutes.”

“Honey, I’m sorry, I really don’t want to, maybe after church this afternoon.”

He looked at me with a scowl. “You’re my wife, that means you listen to what I need, and give it when I want it. It’s probably those pills you take to avoid getting pregnant. I hear they mess up a woman’s mind too. It’s time for you to stop taking them.”

'There’s nothing wrong with my mind that getting away from you for a while won’t solve. You haven’t touched me in six months, and now you want me to flop onto my back for you. Well, it’s not going to happen this time.“

He turned the volume down on the TV and stared at me with hard eyes, "What are you saying, you’re not going to be a wife?”

“What! Be a wife only when you want to be a husband! Why don’t you be a husband to me instead of spending all your time with Joanne Winston,” my voice going shrill.

“Joanne has nothing to do with this,” he thundered.

“I’m grateful for that. My Lord, I guess you having her bent over the sofa, your cock inside her didn’t mean anything.”

I saw is face grow taut, his jaw moving slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

“Yes, I walked in and saw the both of you. You were so intent on screwing her you didn’t even hear, or see me. I’m going to divorce your ass.”

“You can’t talk to me that way. I had a moment of weakness and I’ve prayed for forgiveness. I want to make it up to you.”

“Oh, so you can go around screwing her for months and you expect me to forgive you. I guess I’m not the hardcore Christian woman you thought I was. I’m going to pack my clothes and things I need and find someplace else to live until the divorce is final.”

He stormed towards me, grabbed my blouse and torn it open, his eyes wild, “You’re in my house, you are my wife, I’m going to have you as is my right. Now, we can do it the hard way, or the easy way. But, I’m going to get my due out of you.”

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop him, he was much too large for me to resist him. My mind scrambled to find a way to tamp things down. For the first time I was afraid of being raped– by my own husband. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

“Well, it’s about time you showed some real interest in these,” as I placed my hands under my breasts and pushed them up. I saw a look of confusion on his face. He stopped, his hands went down to his sides as his eyes remained glued on my heaving chest.

I swallowed hard, it was taking every bit of strength for me to take a step toward him. I planted a kiss on his cheek, my stomach protesting, then forced a smile. “Finish watching your race, then come in and treat me as your wife. I went off the pill a month ago if you want to know.”

I watched as he sat back down on the sofa, his temper had settled. I was sure he didn’t even think my comment about Joanne made a difference– as far as he was concerned he’d been forgiven by the Lord. Well, I wasn’t the Lord and the memory of them at the sofa was fresh in my mind. He was going to hell as far as I was concerned and I knew he would have company.

He looked at me, his face stoic. “This will be over in about seven minutes. Glad you came to your senses.”

His words made me want to heave. I rushed down the hall, into our bedroom, pulled out a suitcase and jammed underwear, a bra, some blouses, a few pairs of slacks, and two pairs of shoes into it. I slipped out the door into the garage as he stared at the TV. I didn’t have much, but it would be enough for a few days until I could come back for more. The asshole wasn’t ever going to touch me again.

I rushed to my car and was away as fast as I could go, the tires squealing as I drove off. My last look was of him standing in front of the garage in my rear-view mirror– I had gotten away. I got as far as the park and pulled onto a side street and called my parents. They lived about two hours away where my husband wasn’t likely to go. After a minute to settle myself, I called and told them I was coming to spend the night and would leave early for work in the morning. I Explained I would tell them what was going on when I got there.

I started driving and felt my hands tremble as I gripped the steering wheel. He had intended on taking me regardless of what I wanted and the fear was now manifesting itself. I settled down after a while and the drive to my parents’ home was enough time for me to reflect on my three years with him. Three full years of my life down the drain because I wasn’t mature enough to know better– our relationship had gone bad after no more than a year. We had disagreed on one thing after another, at first small things, then major things– like having children, and having money in a savings account.

I spilled everything to my parents, well… not everything. The pistol and Robb I omitted not wanting to admit I had been so desperate. They sat silent and let me talk and when I was finished told me they understood and would help me in any way they could. I took my suitcase into the guest bedroom and sat down on the bed. I opened the suitcase to see what I had selected in my haste to get out of the house hoping there was the right combination to wear to work the next day.

I slept poorly, tossing and turning, thinking I had screwed my life up big time. I had sought revenge on by husband by sleeping with a total stranger and realized I would never use it against him. I didn’t want to look like that kind of woman. He had his righteous Christian woman and the Lord had forgiven him. What did I have now? I felt asleep and jerked up with a start when the alarm went off.

Chapter 5: Freudian Slip?

Wendy

I drove to work and stumbled into the office half awake. I struggled through the day and realized I hadn’t made arrangements for a place to stay for the night. It didn’t make sense to drive all the way back to my parents’ house again. I hadn’t closed my savings account, or made it a joint account after we married– now happy I hadn’t. I went to the ATM and withdrew enough money for the week to stay in a cheap motel. It would do for the time being and I decided I wasn’t going to go back for my clothes either– I’d shop for what I needed. The account was healthy enough to support me for a while, so at least I felt better about that.

After work I drove to the cheapest place I knew, committing for one night. I walked into the room, put my suitcase on the chair, and fe

by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Chapter 1: Intervention - Wendy Meets Robb.

Wendy

I sat sullen, depressed, on the park bench in the early evening watching a man playing catch with a boy, probably his son. I was fingering the pistol inside my shoulder bag, my finger on the trigger. I closed my eyes to start the silent count one…two…

Wham! I was startled, my fingers closed reflexively in response, including the finger on the trigger. I heard a loud bang inside my shoulder bag. I looked down and saw the bullet hole just above the brown leather bottom. I pulled my hand out of the bag and found it was trembling, my heart pounding in my ears.

I looked up to see the man standing in front of me, his image hazy as tears formed in my eyes again. I couldn’t even end my life without screwing it up. I heard his voice again, but not his words. I sat my bag on the bench next to me and looked up when he spoke again, his face showing concern.

“No, it didn’t hit me,” I replied dumbly.

“You don’t look so good, your eyes are red as if you’ve been crying. Is there anything I can do to help, do you want to talk?”

“Uncle Robb, Dad’s here to pick me up. Thanks for playing catch with me for a while,” came a voice from behind me. I watched as he tossed the baseball in the general direction of the voice.

“Any time Ted, tell your father I’ll talk with him later.”

I watched as the boy ran past us, got into a car, waved, and was gone. Numbed by it all, nothing in my mind made sense, it seemed I wasn’t worth anything to anyone.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“Look, I appreciate your kindness, but I’m not likely to be good company. I just found my husband with another woman. Not that I haven’t suspected it for a while, but I thought our trial separation was working out. I just need to be alone.”

“You weren’t thinking of doing something stupid were you?”

I looked at him, then my eyes went to the round hole in my bag. Stupid? It was a way out. My own husband hadn’t slept with me in six months and he was getting off on another woman. Stupid?

There was a reason I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring. I didn’t want to be found dead wearing something the bastard had given me.

Robb

I’d tried to catch the ball, jumping up to snag it when it sailed above my head. I had hit it just enough to send it toward the attractive woman sitting on the bench not far away. I thought I heard it hit the bench, not her, but a muffled sound seemed to have made her jump, and I felt an apology was in order.

When I stopped in front of her I saw the teary eyes, at first thinking it had hit her. Then I noticed her eyes were puffy red, she’d been crying for a while. Her dark curly hair hung below her shoulders, her brown eyes placed below nicely trimmed eyebrows. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse, her exposed legs shapely, like the rest of her.

She was obviously distressed, then I saw a small hole in her cloth shoulder bag as her eyes shifted to look at it. The slightly ragged hole seemed entirely out of place at that location. It was then I knew, the sound I’d heard wasn’t the baseball hitting the bench–this woman needed help now.

Wendy

He sat down next to me even though I hadn’t replied. Shit, did it matter? Another few minutes in my miserable life wasn’t going to change anything. I hadn’t even been able to kill myself and I realized I was pointing the pistol at the wrong person if I did. I knew I could never kill anyone, apparently not even myself.

Then it popped into my head. If I were to do something now to get back at my husband I’d do what he had done to me. I would throw it in his face, telling him it was better than anything he had ever given me in all the years we’d been together.

He hadn’t been physically abusive to me, the fact he wouldn’t touch me was painful enough; far worse in a way. What better way to get back at him by than by making him look like a man I now merely tolerated? That I had accepted his lack of performance, that I had loved him enough to accept it, but now I wouldn’t.

At first, I thought his lack of interest was due to the extra pounds I had put on made me unattractive to him. I lost the pounds, and it made no difference. Though the men at work made it evident they had noticed. I’d turned down several offers, thinking I would be true to our marriage vows–I wasn’t that kind of woman. Now, maybe I needed to be. I would show him in a way he couldn’t ignore. Brought back to the moment, I heard the man speak again, his hand on my shoulder as I looked at him with a blank expression.

“Look, I’m not comfortable leaving you here alone by yourself. Too many things can happen to a woman in this park late in the day. Hell, even I’m leery of staying here too late. How about I take you for a coffee and you can tell me what you need.”

I looked at him, “What I need is a good hard fuck. Can you do that?”

I watched his face show a shocked expression. He didn’t reply and I felt it just proved perhaps my husband was right– I wasn’t even good for that anymore. I felt a sense of despair and desperation–I had been good for that at one time in my life.

“Well, can you?” I pressed.

“Yes, if you promise not to do anything more stupid than that,” looking at my bag.

“You mean like take the pistol in my bag and shoot myself?” I replied facetiously.

“That’s what I had in mind, yes. I’ll fuck you silly if you give me the gun.”

He was looking right into my eyes, he wasn’t looking at my boobs, or my legs. His eyes showed a genuine concern, his expression sympathetic, caring. I knew what the look of lust was in a man’s eyes because I had been there before–it wasn’t present in his.

I reached for my bag and handed it to him, “You take it out.”

I watched while he peered into my bag, inserted his hand, and pulled the pistol out. He flipped the safety on, removed the clip, took the bullets out, then placed it back inside with the clip inserted.

He handed the bag to me while I looked at him with an earnest expectant expression. “Okay, coffee and a hard fuck, agreed.”

He took my hand and held it gently, then looked into my eyes, “How about coffee, and a good fuck at my place if I can’t talk you out of it. By the way my name is Robb.”

“Agreed, I’m Wendy.”

I walked beside Robb towards a nice looking car, glancing down at his left hand, I found he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Though I knew it really didn’t mean a dam thing to man if he didn’t want it to. I still had revenge on my mind, thinking why put a bullet into my brain when I could go home, and shoot my husband right in the nuts, ending his ability to have sex with another woman. That is, right after I told him I’d been screwed all night long with a huge cock and loved every minute of it.

I smiled to myself, thinking of the horror I’d see on his face when the pistol moved from his face down to his crotch. He would probably shit his pants before I pulled the trigger. Then he would dance around in agony as I turned and walked away–his penis and balls splattered on the floor around him.

Robb opened the door of his car for me and I slid in thinking I was an idiot for marrying my husband in the first place. Two goddamned years of my life wasted trying to be a good wife while he flirted with most of my friends. They thought it was cute for a while, but when he propositioned one of them their attitude changed. I should have seen it, but I was still too love struck to recognize it for what it was. He really wanted me, not them, he was trying to make me jealous was what I had told myself over and over. Then it dawned on me one day when he didn’t come home for an entire night–he didn’t want me and wasn’t man enough tell me to my face.

I felt the car come to a stop and realized I hadn’t said a word to Robb the entire time. I looked at him feeling like I was the lowest scum of the earth, a woman brought so low to want a man she had never met to screw her like a whore, but not charge for it. I wanted revenge and this was one way to get it.

He looked at me while he placed his hand on my arm. “I’m buying the coffee and anything you want to eat, you talk, and I’ll listen.”

“Okay, but then we go to your place and you fuck me.”

“That was what we agreed on,” he replied without any indication he was judging me.

Why should he judge? He was getting a piece of ass for the price of a coffee and a donut. I watched when he passed in front of the car and came to open the door for me. Shit, what did I have to lose? Nothing. Robb was more attractive than my husband and he didn’t have a gut that hung over his belt.

We walked into the small diner, and I followed him to a table next to the window and sat down across from him. The waitress walked up with a menu and started to hand them to us with a smile.

“We won’t need a menu thank you. Two coffees, I’ll take mine black, with a Danish, and whatever the lady would like.”

The expression on the waitress’s face was something I could appreciate. This wasn’t going to result in much of a return to her for the effort she was going to put in–it was kind of like me and my marriage.

“I’ll have the same thank you.”

I watched while she walked away and I turned my gaze to Robb, surprised to see he was studying something other than the cleave showing in my blouse–he was looking at my face.

“You’re an attractive woman when you don’t have tears in your eyes. I’ll bet you have a beautiful smile.”

I moved in my seat, and looked away, feeling my face go red. When I looked back I couldn’t help but give him a small smile.

“Wendy, you talk. I’ll listen, that was our agreement, well that and the other thing.”

“If you think I’ll talk and change my mind about the other thing, I won’t.”

“Fair enough, I’ll keep my promise.”

Our coffees arrived and I found myself spilling my guts as if someone had spoken an incantation to open my soul. I only stopped when the waitress returned, refilled our cups, and then I went on. He listened, never saying a word, just nodding his acknowledgement a few times.

“You know, I’d like to kill that asshole. He’s made my life, me, feel worthless for almost a year. I haven’t told anyone about it until now, not even my parents, though I think they know things haven’t been going well.”

“Parents usually know even if you don’t tell them. Mine always seemed to know if the woman I was dating didn’t fit me before I discovered it for myself.”

His expression didn’t suggest much of anything–it seemed a simple acknowledgement he had endured a few failed relationships. I studied his face as he took another sip of coffee, his brown eyes and hair looked attractive to me, even his day-old stubble made him look manly. He didn’t have those cute dimples, or a strong jaw line like I’d read in romance novels. Still, he was handsome in an understated way. Perhaps it was his calm demeanor and confidence that made him appealing.

He called for the check and I watched as the waitress placed it in front of him. He looked at it as I read the amount of the bill, looking at it upside down. Reaching for the wallet in his back pocket he pulled out a ten and a five. The waitress returned a minute later, picking up the receipt and money, not smiling.

“I’ll be back with your change.”

“Keep the change, you’ve earned it.”

The last look I had of her showed a broad smile. The tip exceeded the amount of the bill by more than five dollars. He stood, waited for me to stand, then followed me out to the car and opened the door for me, closing it after I was inside. I pulled the sun visor down and looked in the mirror–at least my eyes weren’t puffy and I was glad I hadn’t used mascara, only eyeliner, though I hardly looked radiant.

I looked at the clock on the dashboard, I’d talked for over two hours, and it was past seven, almost eight.

“Ready to go home now?” he asked evenly.

I knew my husband would be gone, it was a Saturday night, and he hadn’t spent one with me in so long I couldn’t remember the last time he had. It was one of the things I thought would change when we agreed to separate–that he would take me out like we were dating. We lived in the same house, I worked days, he worked the afternoon shift. It had been stressful, but we had made it work–sort of.

“You mean to my house?”

“Yes, I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind. Just checking to make sure.”

I looked into his eyes. “I haven’t. Take me home and do what we agreed to do.”

Chapter 2: A Promise Delivered

Robb

I listened while she talked, letting her life unfold in front of me. She relaxed after a while, and the details she revealed told me she was a decent person. She had been raised a Catholic, left her faith to marry her husband, who was a Baptist, and found afterward his idea of marriage didn’t quite jive with her own. It was more than a shock when she learned he was seeing one of their close friends from their congregation while she was at work–spending most of his day with her two, or three times a week. He had essentially left her by herself, not offering affection, or love even after she begged him to act as a husband.

Yes, I felt pity for her, but pity somehow seemed less than what she really deserved. Frankly, more than once, I thought her husband was screwed up in the head. Her husband wanted her to be entirely obedient to his demands, and when she resisted even a little, decided she was not a worthy wife. Christian my ass, he was sinning while his wife sought to be loyal to him.

She had concluded at the end of our talk she was glad she had remained on birth control despite his wanting her to become pregnant. She was honest about it with him, saying they should make sure they were financially secure before starting a family. He hadn’t minded her birth control before they were married despite his religious teaching, but he had changed his tune afterward. His parents had asked her frequently if she were expecting, adding additional stress.

I was eager to do something for her, but I was torn given the circumstances. If I didn’t have sex with her what was the take away for her? I was sure it would only add to her miserable emotional state–if a stranger was unwilling to take her to bed her husband must be right. She would leave and find a bridge to jump off of.

I had committed to having sex with her and she hadn’t changed her mind. She was a very attractive woman, in that respect, I found the prospect acceptable. It was what would happen afterward that concerned me most. I had made the promise and I would keep it to best of my ability. I felt like an idiot for thinking letting her talk would change things. I knew I would have to be convincing when the time came–I had to be all in, or it was unlikely to work.

Wendy

It was a twenty minute drive to his apartment and when we started walking to the door I didn’t feel anything other than excitement. He had treated me with dignity and respect the entire evening and never once was there a hint he considered me flawed, and unworthy of his attention. When he unlocked the door of his apartment I took a deep breath, it was time. Despite the fact I’d never done anything like this before, I was ready.

We walked inside and when the lights came on I found myself in a nicely furnished apartment. It was mostly clean, with attractive colors, pictures on the walls. It was better than my own home in one respect, there wasn’t a single religious saying, or picture– the Lord Jesus was not at hand here.

I heard the door close and latch behind me with a click, then the padlock go home–I was alone with him and no one knew of my whereabouts. If this were a den of inequity, it felt right to me. I had come here for a specific reason and despite my slight apprehension, I wanted it to happen. I was wondering how hesitant he was going to be based upon his checking to see if I had changed my mind. I didn’t have a chance to turn all the way around to face him when my feet left the floor, and I was in his arms.

I gave a small shriek of surprise, then saw his face turn to look at me while my ass hung down; he held my legs at the knees with one arm, my back with the other.

“Here on the floor, or in bed?”

My mind raced. Oh shit, this is going to happen, oh shit. “I… I… don’t… bed, on the bed.”

We walked into the dark hallway and turned into a bedroom as I held onto him. The room was dim, a nightlight casting light onto the bed from the bathroom. My heart was beating so damn hard it felt like a beating bass drum was in my chest, pounding in my ears, my face felt flushed. He lay me down on the bed, then moved onto it next to me.

“Robb… I…”

His lips came hard onto mine and my response was swift and sure as I returned it with all I had. I sent my hand out to his back and pulled him to me as we wrestled together in a frenzied tangle. I broke our kiss, took a breath, and pushed onto him again. My body felt hot, as if it were being baked slowly, some parts warming faster than others. I ran my fingers through his hair and rolled on top of him, pressing my pelvis hard against his leg. We kissed, I rubbed hard, then harder, my pussy responding with soft, warm, pleasure. I pulled away and half sat up, cursing to myself–too much coffee. Damn, this was no time to have to take a pee.

“Robb, I need to use the bathroom, I’m sorry, but I can’t wait.”’

“I’m not going to run away,” he said.

I couldn’t help but smile. Damn, he wanted to fuck me so badly he could hardly stand it. The thought thrilled me,–I was sure I could see it in his expression. Who was I kidding? I wanted it more. I don’t know what I was thinking as I washed my hands after pulling my panties back up under my skirt.

I was thinking I had ruined the moment. I had botched shooting myself, and now this. I was wrong as he pulled me down onto the bed and started to unbutton my blouse, his lips came to my chest, then moved to my neck. My arousal quickly shot through the roof as my hands went down to his crotch to find him firm and erect–it had been so long.

I was breathing heavily as he pulled me up to a sitting position, removing my blouse and bra in what seemed mere seconds. His lips and tongue came to one breast, while the fingers of his other hand squeezed my nipple making my pussy ache. His passion consumed me, he wasn’t like an animal clawing at me, but he was aggressive, confident, and knew what to do. His hand pulled my skirt up, the heel of his hand pressing firmly onto at the top of my slit, his fingers massaging my folds. I gasped and closed my eyes as the pleasure grew from each hard caress through my panties–I spread my legs wider and writhed with the stimulation I was feeling.

I wanted more, that was my only thought as our lips met again, his lips sweet, moist, placed upon mine–it was as if they were specially made to be there. His kisses added to my arousal as my hands hungrily sought to touch him. It was as if a map of his body were imprinted in my mind–my hands found the buttons of his shirt, then the button of his pants. He sat up and I almost ripped the shirt off him, then reached down to yank his pants down and away. My hand dove into his briefs where I felt the firm, warm flesh of his erect member in my hand–the sensation added to my frenzy.

I heard him growl into my ear as he brought his head next to mine, pushing me down onto the bed pinning me with his arms, his legs between mine, his hardness impossible to ignore. “I hope you’re ready as I can’t wait.”

The words I needed thrilled me. I was a prize, lusted after,– his animal desires unmasked, directed only to me. Now, it was my lust combined with his and I wanted it to be hot, torrid.

I looked into his eyes. “Do it,” as I reached down, grasping the tip of his cock. I ran his tip up and down over my slick slit, then placed it at my opening. I had my eyes open and watched as I felt him push inside me a few inches. On the exterior I must have looked somewhat calm, but inside I was on fire. His entrance was incredible–I was so damn sensitive. I grabbed his hips and pulled him toward me. “Damn it, do it,” I ordered forcefully.

That was the last thing I had to say as he took me hard, then softer, than hard again until the ache in my pussy flared white hot as I closed my eyes and pushed my head back onto the mattress. I clawed at his shoulders with my fingertips as I held my breath, my orgasm strong, but short. I let my breath out not knowing if he had climaxed wit

by Eeveelynn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

“Thankyou.” I mumbled, getting up from the bed, slower this time.

The bath was aromatic, full of bubbles and looked so peaceful. I leaned against the door frame closing my eyes.

“Cat, are you going to be ok in there?” He questioned softly.

“I’m fine!” I snapped back to reality. I was aware of my stubborn determination to be self sufficient, especially after having panic attack.

“It’s ok to need help.” Again the soft tone of his voice irked at my independence.

“I’m fully capable of having a bath, what are you going to do? join me? It’s ok, I’ve got this.” I said trying and failing to unzip the back of my dress.

“If that’s what it takes to know you’re ok? Then yes.” he replied as he lifted my hair and unzipped the dress for me, sliding it off my shoulders. The brush of his hands felt soft against my skin, giving me goose bumps.

If I hadn’t just burnt out all my brains reserves of adrenalin having a panic attack, I’m positive my mind would have been running at a thousand miles an hour, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t. I was entirely focused on the basic things - like how relaxing the bath looked and how good it would feel to wash my face and hair. I still had some wits about me, as romantic as the concept of having a bath together was, and despite how my body was reacting to the idea, I wasn’t necessarily in the right headspace for anything intimate; I tried to make that thought process clear.

“It can’t be anything. But, yeah, I’d appreciate the company. I don’t really want to be alone right now.” I offered honestly, “but you can’t look.”

“I know.” He sighed, “Not like this, this is not how I ever imagined it Cat, I sincerely just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Not like this…?” I repeated what he said. My brain and heart took a double take as I stared up at him. He’d thought about it, he’d thought about us. “OK, I’m not looking.” He turned around, embarrassed.

I slipped out of my clothes and slowly hopped into the bath. It was gigantic, so full of bubbles. The water sitting almost at my shoulders, I was able to easily sit sideways with my knees up to my chest.

“OK, you can look.”

“Aw you look so small.” he noted, sitting next to the bath.

“I thought you were going to join me?”

“Ah, it’s ok, I’ll just keep you company, I really want to let you have space.” He reached and scooped up a handful of bubbles, placing them on my head “Cat in a hat.”

I took a hand full of bubbles and blew into it, spraying him with them, he laughed and sighed.

I turned to lie and stretch out in the bath, considering I had it all to myself, I thought it best to make the most of it. He leaned against the tub and played videos on his phone to keep us both amused, occasionally splashing me.

“You know you actually need to wash yourself in the bath?” he joked.

My eyes fluttered open and shut again, “Im just so tired, you said to relax.” I twisted his words to fit my agenda.

“Come on, wake up!” he splashed my face.

“No, you wake up.” I lazily splashed him back.

“We can’t hide in here all day.” Splash.

“You can’t hide in here all day,” I splashed him again “This is my home now.”

“I thought Cats hated water.” Splash.

“It’s a myth, I’m a purrmaid now” I stretched out, enjoying my terrible pun and attempting to ignore the barrage of water attacks.

He splashed me just for the bad joke, he sat there looking a little angry and wet “That’s it! Cat-tatonic, you can’t stay in there forever.” he got up and left the room.

“I can and I will!!” I yelled after him.

I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I lied back again, closing my eyes and enjoying the peace, trying desperately not to accidentally fall asleep.

He sauntered back a few minutes later wearing a towel. With all the photos and videos he’d sent me over the years I’d never actually seen him shirtless. I drank it in for a minute, his shoulders and arms were my favourite part, muscular with full sleeves of tattoos.

“Hey, hey, hey, no looking.” he laughed and I covered my face with my hands, clearly still looking. “Cat, I don’t really like my body, please?”

“OK, ok, ok, just saying, I don’t see why.” I turned away from him, this was difficult, I could have stared for decades, etching his physique into my mind like stone.

“Now schooch over,” he demanded, “If you’re never getting out, I’m getting in.”

I moved forward in the bath and he stepped in, sitting behind me, making the water rise and splash a little over the edge.

“OK, you were right, this is pretty relaxing. Well, pretty and relaxing.”

I looked back and smiled at him, he always got to me with his sneaky compliments.

“Alright now, come here” he said, I backed up little so I was sitting between his legs but not fully against him, I felt a sudden cold on my head.

“What are you…?”

He was washing my hair, I was confused but ok with it.

“Since you’re determined to just sit and do nothing, we’ll be here for ever, so I’ll do it.” He started to massage the shampoo into my hair, It was a nice feeling, I’d only had hair dressers ever do this and it wasn’t like they actually got in a bath with you. It felt so intimate and caring, his hands massaging my tired head. I was close to melting down the drain with the water at that point, I was so at peace. I certainly didn’t expect him to randomly blast the conditioner out with the shower head set to cold.

I screamed and turned awkwardly in his lap “You bastard!”

He was just smiling that dumb fucking smile that he always used to get away with anything. I put my knees on his legs to gain purchase and grabbed his throat lightly. I suddenly noticed he was looking down, not at my face. In my attempt to be threatening, I was giving him a full view of my breasts, nipples perky as the cold water dripped down my body. Something about the way I’d grabbed him dominantly stirred something inside me, something I didn’t know was there.

“If this is how I die I’m 100% fine with it.” he gleamed.

“Ah, you pervert.” I teased, dropping back down into the water and turning my back to him quickly. Deflecting my own thoughts yet still sitting between his legs again, choosing to be closer this time.

“hey, I did nothing.”

“Sure.”

He got a loofa and started scrubbing my back gently

“This is kinda weird right?” I said thinking aloud, my brain starting to work again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Not at all, but I mean, we’ve sorta just met.”

“We’ve been friends for eight years.” He said defensively.

“Online though.” I reminded him. “So have you bathed chris?” I was referring to one of our mutual male friends.

“No, but he’s never refused to get out of a bathtub before, I guess this is a new one.” he laughed. “Arm up.”

I raised my arm, he glided the loofa up and down, washing it, then proceeded down the side of my body, grazing my breast and hip.

“Other one.”

Same thing again, one of his hands had snaked its way to resting on my waist, I wasn’t sure why it was so intensely comfortable but also so present in my mind. All the physical touch in such a gentle caring manner was turning me on a lot more then I expected.

“Do you want to do the rest? Or do you want me to?” He questioned, it had become apparent the next parts would be very intimate. I slid back against him so my back was on his chest.

“Is it weird I’m enjoying this? this is so relaxing and..” I paused, changing my thought pattern “I can do it if you don’t want to?”

“Not weird at all, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m so glad your feeling better” he pulled my waist towards him so I was fully pressed against him for a hug. He body felt good against mine, his arms felt strong wrapped around me. The bubbles, the water, all adding an extra layer of sensation. I knew he was being kind but it was impossible to not notice that he was absolutely turned on, I could feel him so hard against my back.

“Seems like your feeling pretty good yourself.” I giggled.

“Hey, I really can’t help it, it doesn’t have to mean anything. I just, can’t…” he paused for a moment to collect his words “I can’t control what my body feels with you naked. Just ignore it, I promised I wouldn’t do anything but help you.”

“I think I understand the feeling.” I sighed quietly to myself.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing… you missed a spot.” I said handing him the loofa again.

He slowly washed my shoulders and collar bone, then skipped to my waist and stomach, he started mirroring what he was doing with his hand on one side, loofa in the other and occasionally swapping. It was slow and sensual, it felt like he was exploring my body. At a leisurely pace he moved to my legs and thighs, stopping just short of anything to intimate. I knew it wasn’t intentional, but it felt like teasing and it was driving me wild, I could tell how wet I was even in the water. I was aware of my pulse in my pussy as he ran his hands up my inner thighs. I could feel his cock getting even harder, I wasn’t sure that was possible when I had first lied back against him.

He moved his hands up to my breasts, finally. I wiggled my ass, just a little, back into him. I was testing the waters, feeling his cock twitch against me, his breathing got heavier and faster. He slowly caressed my breasts, at first appearing to wash them but after a minute had past and his hands still lingered, I was sure he was just enjoying them.

“I don’t mind at all.” I said, wanting to give him some confirmation that I was enjoying the attention to detail, I leant my head back against his chest and closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. He let the loofa go and slid his hands around, slowly squeezing and massaging my chest. Letting his fingers glide over my nipples, which were getting harder at his touch. He intermittently pinched each one, I moaned a little, not intending to, but rather unable to controll it. His hands started to take turns at exploring more of my body.

“You’re really beautiful and soft, you feel amazing.” he sighed in my ear.

In a lot of ways I wanted it to stop but I also couldn’t seem to say no. I was so heavily conflicted between my attraction and fear of the level of intensity. I’d always been scared of Henry in that way, I always felt like I’d die of thirst without his attention, but I also felt like I’d drown in the emotion attached to it. He had, and probably always would be ‘The one’, as stupid as that sounded. He wasn’t the guy I imagined fucking without strings attached, he was so much more to me. He came with the dream of the life after, the simple life; full of laughter and light. We’d spent eight years talking everyday, never tiring, never losing interest. He was always a passing ship in the night, one of us always in a relationship, the unobtainable and that felt so safe. However, right now, we were both alone, together. Everything about him felt so right, his hands on my body, his presence, the way we fit together so well, just lying on him watching TV or even now, in the bath, it just felt so much like I was a part of him and he was a part of me.

I tensed up and he felt it, he stopped touching me instantly.

“Evelyn, are you ok?” He didn’t say Cat, he used my actual name not the nickname everyone called me.

“I just…” I turned in the water, sitting up and slipping my legs over his to face him, “Can we do this?”

“Only if you want to?” He looked at me puzzled.

“I mean, with you? can it be casual? Isn’t it always going to be more?”

“Cat, it can mean whatever you want it to, or I can stop right now if you want and I’ll go get dressed. You know how I’ve always felt about you, but also, I respect you. It can just be fun, if that’s all you want at the moment. I’ve never been able to do this kind of thing without the connection, but I already have that with you and nothing will ruin that. All I can think in this moment is that fucking you would feel right, for once Cat, don’t overthink.”

I stared at him intensely. Was he just saying what I wanted to hear? Am I going to hurt him? am I going to hurt us? This is the type of thing that’s going to invoke a few days worth of reckless behaviour from me and I was well aware of my patterns.

“I really want to,” I admitted “my body is screaming at me to, but, I don’t want to hurt you.” I was watching his face intently for any sign that this could be wrong.

“I rather be hurt 1000 times then never feel you,” he put his hands back on my hips starting to pull me down onto his lap. “I need to know what it feels like to be inside you, I need to watch your perfect body bounce, I need to see your face as you feel me inch by inch, I don’t care about myself right now. I need to know what it feels like to make you cum.”

Fuck, he knew how to talk when he wanted to. He knew what was in my head and he knew how I felt. He also knew I wasn’t going to back down now. I hated that he knew me. I couldn’t help myself, I managed to lie to myself in that moment, maybe it could just be fun, maybe it wouldn’t have an effect on the dynamic of our friendship.

We’d talked a lot about sex with the distance keeping us safe, some nights spent exchanging fantasies, messages and videos. I knew everything about what he wanted, the magic words that would tip the scales for him, and he knew everything about how my body worked and what I might do. We both knew I was far more experienced, him only having a few sexual partners in the past worried me, but not enough to stop me. The logical part of my brain had shut down. I needed to be the dominant one here, I needed to show him. He could talk smoother then I ever could, but I could use my body.

“Cat we don’t have to- ” I cut him off and grabbed his throat, I enjoyed that feeling earlier, I wanted to try it again. I pulled myself to him and kissed him deeply, his hand raised to mine in shock but he relented and kissed me back. I kneeled over him and used my other hand to stroke his hard cock under the water. His hands slid across my body, I’m not sure he knew what to do with my sudden assault on his senses. I felt him moan into my kiss as I moved my hand up and down the length of his shaft, taking my time to rub slowly around his head, feeling it twitch in response. I released my grip off his neck and used my hand to move his hands to my ass which was hovering over him, he seemed to follow the motions amazingly. I continued to stroke his cock, surprised that it was larger then I expected.

I climbed further onto him sliding the head of his cock gently up and down, from my entrance to my clit, as I kept up the motion of sliding my hand up and down his shaft. He was starting to put pressure on my hips, begging to get inside me each time I slid up and down on him. The wetness of my cunt so different to the water of the bath. I teased him with each movement as I used his dick as a toy for my own stimulation, I wanted him to force me down onto it, he seemed to yield finally, grabbing my hips properly and pulling me onto him, inch by inch. I’d been turned on for the entire bath, I felt so swollen and as he forced his way in we both gasped, breaking the passionate kiss, locked into inhaling each other’s breath. By the time he was fully sheathed inside of me I was almost shaking, he fit so well, I wasn’t going to last long at all. I kissed him again, biting his lip and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

I started riding him like my life depended on it, like every groan he made brought me closer to an edge I was ready to fall off a thousand times. I grinded harder against him, wanting to be so full I would never need to be fucked again, and it worked so well, up and down, him enjoying my bubble covered breasts as they bounced in his face. I felt the familiar buildup of my orgasm coming on as I rode harder and faster. I gripped him tighter as my pussy clenched around his cock, unable to keep my mouth shut I let out a very audible moan of pleasure, I leant back enjoying the aftershocks of my orgasm.

He seemed to be enjoying the expression on my face before he got a serious look, grabbing my hips harder than before and using my body. He was stronger than I expected, I wasn’t doing any of the work anymore, just enjoying feeling him lift me and pull me back down onto him as the water splashed around us and his face started to tense. I slid my hand back under water to rub my clit, if he was coming, I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to come again with him. It wasn’t hard for me to get close again, he was so focused, grunting and fucking me hard, I was loving the view, the way his arms and body tensed, the focus on his face, the way he threw his head back, moving me like I weighed nothing, grinding his hips up to mine.

I knew what would get him there, from every fantasy he’d sent me and I knew he’d fucking love it and hate it.

“You have to pull out, I’m not on birth control.” I teased at him, he agreed and started going harder than before, I could feel him twitching inside me, I knew I was going to cum when he did. I wrapped my arms around him and started fucking him back again, our hips meeting. He was starting to shake, he stopped suddenly.

“I’m going to cum, I have to stop.” He gasped, I knew what we both wanted to hear. I grabbed his throat again and held onto his back as tight as I could, continuing to grind against him as deeply as I could.

“Don’t you fucking dare, I’m not letting go, you’re going to fill me or we’ll never do this again.”

His eyes lit up with a touch of fear and excitement as he gave in, finally thrusting back knowing that I needed his seed, it only took a moment and I felt him explode inside me, shooting layer after layer of warm cum into me. My body fucking loved it, exploding into an orgasm that just kept clenching for what felt like minutes around his cock as it pulsed.

I let my grip loosen as I let my head fall against his, having an exhausted giggle, he smiled and laughed with me, wrapping his arms around my body and occasionally thrusting to see my face as we recovered our breath.

“You can’t do that or I’m going to need to cum again” I breathed, trying to lift myself off him, he held me down.

“Do it.” he whispered with an evil grin, I started to grind on him softly, it wasn’t going to take much. He leant me back and watched me, finally using his fingers to rub my clit, as my breasts bounced freely and he met each of my thrusts again, he was watching me so intimately but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It was happening again, I gasped and held his arms tightly as I shuddered with another orgasm. He seemed so pleased with himself, kissing me again softy down my neck.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, moving my hair from my face “My good little cum slut.”

The language surprised me, but more in a way that I enjoyed. We both got out of the bath and wrapped ourselves in towels.

The bathroom was completely flooded, I giggled and bent to pick up my wet clothes. I felt his hand lift my towel at the back as I did, still bent over I looked back at him confused.

“Just admiring my work” he smiled that damn smile again, it always amazed me how confident men got after you fulfilled a fantasy. I moved into a presenting pose and let him enjoy the view of his cum dripping from my pussy for a moment, he slicked his finger up and down my slit.

“hey, no touching unless your prepared to finish the job again.”

He kept going, sliding his fingers back and forth over my clit before sliding his fingers inside of me, pushing his dripping cum back in. This man was determined to make sure I couldn’t think for a week.

But that’s when we heard a knock at the door.

by Eeveelynn for Literotica

By MarthaMcKinley. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The prickling feeling was getting more painful especially right above my pubic bone, a sign of the sun doing its damaging, yet tan-inducing, thing. I could also feel little beads of perspiration appearing on my abdomen, another indicator that this 85° day in May was a good choice for lying out in my backyard; naked. A large beach towel kept the annoying little critters from scaling the grass blades to climb onto me, guaranteeing that I could have a peaceful thirty minutes in the sun.

I was nearing that time limit, based upon what I was feeling, but the warmth and the slight breeze had lulled me into a tranquility that I wanted to indulge in for just a little while longer.

These sensual adventures, though simple, were all I was left with over the past many weeks. After a marriage of 20 years, I was blindsided by my husband, Ken, who informed me that he had been hearing a call to his gay side, and needed to find his “true self.”

That made it difficult for me to feel an attraction to him, when I knew his ultimate desires were now for a man. In fact, he had met a man recently, a potential lover, which made me even less inclined to want a sexual intimacy with him.

Being only forty and still in my womanly prime, though, I wasn’t ready to surrender my sexuality, nor was I ready to give up on my marriage. Being an unfaithful wife was not in the cards for me, either, I told myself. So Ken and I had begun talking about how to somehow make this marital relationship work within our present constraints.

All of which made me wonder why I was still beautifying my body with slow tanning and shaving my various body hair, because he had practically told me that his interests were no longer for women. Yet I felt compelled to do so nonetheless, as I guess I couldn’t turn off a lifetime of perfecting my appearance.

“A few more minutes,” I told myself, as the seductive sensations of warmth and tingling were difficult to resist, as was the lure of how my skin would look, evenly bronzed without those distracting tan lines.

I was startled into alertness when I heard a truck pull into our driveway, then quickly accelerate and brake, making a three point turn to maneuver the vehicle with the rear door facing our porch deck. Having my escape into the back door blocked, I hastily wrapped the beach towel around me just as this tall, hunk of a man stepped out the side door of his UPS truck.

He looked in his early forties, judging from the faint streaks of gray in his wavy black hair, which appeared a little unruly, like he had repeatedly run his fingers through a perspiring scalp to keep it from perpetually falling onto his forehead.

“Ken Dyer residence?” He called out quizzically, eying me in a way that could only be interpreted as pleasantly stunned.

After an awkward pause, I affirmed that he was at the right house.

“Your husband?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Guess you all are getting a big order of track lighting?”

Overcoming my surprising shyness, I managed to say only, “Yes.”

He moved swiftly to the rear door, flung it up, gave me a quick glance back, and hopped up inside. Within a couple seconds, he stuck his head out and inquired,

“Don’t suppose you could give me a hand in here? It’s kind of a mess after driving up your bumpy road, which caused a package avalanche of sorts.”

I froze. “Uh, sure,” I eventually offered, though I was not quite sure how I had to be tapped for undoing the consequences of his probably too assertive driving. I slipped into my sandals, strode across the little lawn to stand at the back of the truck, and awaited his instructions.

“Come on up,” he invited me, extending his right hand in a polite gesture of assistance.

I took his hand, and, holding my other one around the top of my towel to keep it tightened, I hoisted myself up into the truck.

“Thanks a lot,” he said sincerely.

I watched him as he deftly maneuvered some boxes off of a number of long rectangular ones, which likely contained our track lighting. He worked quickly and methodically, then turned to me, bent down, hoisted one end of the track lighting bundle, and gently steered it toward me, asking,

“Can you hold this?”

The Unintended Reveal

Impulsively, I reached out with both hands and took hold of it. The shift of my arms and twist of my torso ironically caused an avalanche of another sort. My beach towel loosened and fell to my ankles. Unable to catch it in its freefall with both hands occupied, I could only stand there supporting the large package, bare naked before him.

The excruciating silence, that seemed to last an embarrassing eternity, was broken by his audible exhalation and the words,

“Oh my god. You’re beautiful.”

Which was hurriedly followed by,

“Here, let me take that from you,” and he stepped carefully over some toppled boxes to relieve me of the burden, which allowed me to pull my towel back up around myself.

“I’m ashamed to admit it,” he added, “but since my wife left me for another woman two years ago, I haven’t had an interest in going out with anyone, let alone to even look at another woman. So maybe it’s that lengthy deprivation that made me blurt that out. But I honestly do not ever recall seeing a woman as beautiful as you.”

Initially, I couldn’t tell if this was the most preposterous come-on line that I’d ever been presented with, or whether this handsome man standing before me in his uniform of brown short sleeve shirt, shorts, socks and work shoes was one of the most honestly vulnerable men on the planet. But curiously, that prickling of the sun earlier in the day with those beads of perspiration were now being replaced with a tingling liquefaction deep within my nether lips. And even more startling, my previous resolution to be faithful to my searching-for-himself husband seemed to lose more than a little of its resolve.

I stared at him momentarily with empathic brown eyes, then stepping my lithe frame around the fallen packages scattered on the truck’s floor, I maneuvered myself so as to gracefully wrap my arms around his solid chest in a hug of both understanding, which I could deeply feel, and of desire for something more.

I felt his body, initially surprised, respond with a tight embrace back, embellished with a little rocking sway, like we were mutually soothing the other as we were, at the same time, being soothed.

His sweaty aroma blended with that of his freshly laundered shirt, slightly damp from his half-day’s work. And I’m sure he inhaled my fresh scent of arousal as we each uttered those little pleasure moans that our full-bodied hug elicited.

Tilting back my head to look up into his face, his gaze found mine, and we moved magnetically into a kiss, adjusting our mouths to find the perfect union for our moistened lips.

I felt his hug grow tighter then relax as he moved his hands along my back, on either side of my backbone. When the towel dropped for the second time, I more than welcomed it. His hands, surprisingly smooth for someone who handled packages day after day, warmed my back with their frictional drag, one down to the top of a buttock as the other slid up to my shoulder blade, then reversed themselves.

I began to make those squeaky excited sounds, as we were finding openings for our tongue inside each other’s mouth. I was getting a little crazed, wanting more and more from this perfect stranger. I couldn’t stop myself.

Wanting to touch his back like he was touching mine, I tried to pull his shirt out from the back of his shorts. But that canvas belt he wore kept it untuckable.

Sensing my frustration, and being amused at it, he hugged me tightly again and chuckled into my mouth,

“Fucking chastity belt uniforms.”

He undid the clasp and then kindly undid the snap and zipper, without interrupting our kissing, and as we pressed our bodies back into each other, the zipper edges and endpoints of his shorts added a novel new feeling to the touch, now augmented by a burgeoning erection bulging in between.

Sweaty Swooning

Inside the truck, being baked by the midday sun, I soon began to perspire profusely. And when I reached my hands beneath his shirt tales and started kneading his back, my palms stuck to his manly sweat, just like I noticed his hands were doing to my back. I panicked.

I perspire easily. As a tango dancer, hours into a milonga, I am embarrassed when asked by a man to dance. I find myself always apologizing for the dampness in my dress. Most leaders shrug their acceptance, which isn’t greatly reassuring, but when a man replies that he loves women who sweat, I’m delighted. There’s an immediate relief in me, and a sort of “sweat camaraderie,” that something which society deems is to be avoided, covered up, or concealed, is perfectly natural and therefore OK. And when it’s accepted as a commonplace consequence of honest work, or play, like in dancing, it is really liberating. And sometimes more.

So, when Mr. UPS told me that he loved that I’m a sweaty woman, I lost it. I mean, what were the chances that a woman who loses her husband to a man serendipitously meets a man who has lost his wife to a woman? And then, when the universe gives you such a man who not only accepts you as a sweating being, but actually relishes it, your next act is a no-brainer.

“I want to fuck you,” I implored through our impassioned lips. “And now.”

Without protest, he moved his hands from my back to his shorts and boxers. In a somewhat comical motion, he dragged them both, in frustratingly little jerks, down his sweaty thighs to his ankles. Then sitting on one of the boxes, he positioned his legs slightly apart and had me straddle his thighs. With his hands on my hips, he guided me to hover above his rock-hard erection. It was cut, flushed, and beckoning.

There was no trouble finding a union for those two wanting organs, and as I descended on him, I gasped, growled, and attacked him with my kisses. He shifted his knees apart a bit to lock himself into a more sturdy tripod, as I began with slow grinding of his cock, swallowing him up inside me, then partly releasing him, again and again, until he, too, was gasping.

“Your big package like this wrapping, Mr. UPS?”

“Oh yeah,” he uttered.

I roughly ran my fingers through his now sweatier hair, pulling the locks tightly as I got to their ends. He kissed me harder back, letting me know where to go next.

My hands snaked their way beneath his soggy brown shirt, and, as I kissed with a ferocity, I also pinched clumps of chest hair and tugged lightly, then gradually with more tautness, until he was moaning into my throat.

For some odd reason, I felt a need to hurt this man, and, by his responses, he needed me to hurt him, too. So I pinched his nipples, gently at first then harder, with an additional twist to augment the torture. He let out a howl accompanied by upward thrusting of his cock into me.

I became unhinged. I lifted my heels and braced myself on tiptoes, giving me more leverage, then tightened my knees around his waist, and let my full weight come to bear against his pelvis. I resumed rocking my groin into him, grunting with every thrust, gulping him into me, with surprisingly more and more savagery.

I was raging; at being deprived of sex by my man, at being rejected by my man going off with another man; and I wanted to fuck this man so hard as if to punish his entire gender.

Venting Her Hurts

I began abusing him verbally, too. I didn’t know I had this in me, but it came out as shouts of “You fucking men. You fuck us over and then strut the fuck away.”

But it worked as a catharsis. I came violently. Then immediately I began to cry, wailing loudly in huge sobs, before showering him with gratitude, blubbering “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He had let me take full advantage of his body, to work out my anger with men and my love for men. Those twisted feelings of exorcism, eroticism, and ecstasy.

I renewed my pounding of him. And with my next rapture, I screamed,

“I love you! I love you! I love you!”

I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t know what I meant, but at that moment I had a depth of feeling for this man that was unexplainable. I felt him stiffen. I felt his body quake. I felt him begin to breathe rapidly, gasping in affirmatives. I witnessed that twisted face and heard those unintelligible sounds that a man makes when he is ejaculating, coming into his own ecstatic state.

That sent me into my next coming, and another one quickly followed. I couldn’t contain myself. My own ejaculate started flowing outside me around him and onto that unfortunate package beneath us. But I didn’t fucking care.

My breathing, too, had accelerated. I couldn’t speak. After a time, it slowed toward normal. I hugged him and began to sob anew. I started rubbing his now drenched scalp, his neck, and his shoulders, as I felt him do the same to me, combing moist fingers through my wet hair, dragging them slowly down my shoulder blades, over and over and over again.

Minutes passed. Tens of minutes. I didn’t know how much time exactly, but I knew he had a route to finish and probably a package to clean off. As I felt him slowly detumesce, I tried to get myself up, and, on too-shaky legs, I sat back down again, hard, luckily on his knees.

He held my shoulders as I held his and we looked druggedly into each other’s eyes. Then reality spoke. It had to. We were getting overheated.

“We better get out of this truck,” he said.

“And get some water,” I added.

And that’s what we did.

Well, among other things!

And, as I write this now, I sincerely apologize for any delays that those of you may have experienced in receiving your package that day. And especially for the perfumed one!

By MarthaMcKinley for Literotica

Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

We all sat there a little lost for words, Annie eventually saying "Well I'd sign up just for the views in the garden."

We all smiled at this before Suzi said, "Do you think she did that all off the top of her head, unscripted and unplanned."

I

Annie laughed, "Dave, When did you become so articulate?"

"I know what you mean; normally he just rubs his cock like an ape and says 'I'd like to fuck that'.

I

Suzi stood and embraced Muriel, "You were incredible, did you just make that up off the top of your head?"

"I

"Brilliant." Annie said, "The quality was great and you were mesmerizing."

Muriel

"We

"Wonderful, why don't you both come back for a celebratory meal and we can do it after, if we're not too jolly."

It

We

I

"Nothing too exciting, just Annie undoing a button and squeezing her tits through her shirt." Muriel said.

"That's enough for Dave to start wanking." Suzi chided me.

"You don't give me any credit, I'd want to see at least two buttons undone." I feign indignation.

She'd

"How you doing, it's been a strange day." I said as I hugged Suzi.

"I'm doing ok, excited and nervous at the same time, I can't believe we've agreed to film ourselves naked."

I

"I

After a few minutes Muriel returned, saying she couldn't do anymore til Suzi came back.

Annie

Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The

"I think David should chase me but I'm old and will be easy to catch, I think he should chase me with Annie on his back."

I wasn't expecting that and nor was Annie but she was the first to respond, "sounds like fun."

I

"Comfortable?" I asked

"Oh yes." She answered a little huskily.

"Before we start running I think you should get some still shots, come here and stand behind Annie." Muriel said.

James did this and then Muriel told him to kneel down. I heard him gasp and then he started clicking away.

"You dirty bitch! I'm completely exposed, he can see everything from down there." Annie said laughing.

She

"I think they're the most incredible shots I've taken."

"Stick with me kid, with my dirty mind and your camera skills we'll make a great double act."

As we were laughing at this Annie was still whispering in my ear and rubbing herself off against me.

"Oh

Muriel

Muriel

We

She was letting everyone within five hundred yards know she'd orgasmed, and she nearly deafened me.

As

To

Muriel

"How are the photos coming?" I asked James

"Incredible, I can't believe some of the shot's I've got, very hot and erotic."

"Was it weird taking those sort of pictures of your sister."

"Yes and no, as I got into it I forgot she was my sister, it was only after she came that I felt a bit embarrassed."

"Not ones for the family photo album then?"

"I wouldn't put it past her."

When they returned with the refreshments I made a beeline for Suzi, feeling a wee bit guilty.

Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The three of us found ourselves sat naked, prim and properly behind our booth.

As

"I'm

"What?" I perked up.

"Wait and see, I'm waiting for a dishy man to come along."

She didn't have to wait long, before a well-built local lad sauntered over.

"That was a lovely show you put on there, ladies."

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Have you ever visited our Arundel holiday resort?"

"No, but I've thought about it."

Suzi

After

"That's Jill, whose original idea this all was. Over there, with her sister. I'll call them over."

They approached rather sheepishly, but were calmed by our big smiles.

"I hear you've had an exciting day." Jill said

"And it's all down to you and your marvelous idea." I praised her.

Jill blushed a bit at this and I took it as my cue, I stood up with my semi erect cock bouncing around in front of me,

"Ladies,

I

We all burst out laughing and bade farewell to the good-natured sisters.

"I

 The  bookings rocketed and the Arundel Resort went from strength to strength, generating more great opportunities.

First,

Then, the targeted audience, those who are serious about nudism; all read our feature article about the resort.

It was focused on Naturism for a new generation. Within weeks our resort was booked full, well into late September.

Muriel

Geri had reserved a block of Chalets for a reunion of fellow 2nd generation

Muriel

In

Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

On Thursday, Geri phoned. She spoke with Muriel for a while before being handed back to me,

"How you doing?" Geri asked.

"Good. A strangely odd week, very hard for poor Muriel; but we're getting there."

"How's the resort looking, have you got many bookings."

"I

" Remember I said I'd ask around, see if anyone had any ideas."

"Yes."

"Well Freddy Spencer, one of my old chums from the Arundel Naturist Resort, is now the editor of H & E magazine."

Geri sounded really excited but I didn't know what she was talking about.

"H & E magazine is like the naturist bible, it's run for and by naturists."

"Ok and?" I pressed.

"Well, like me, Freddy has some fond memories of coming down there with his parents. They were lovely, innocent, naked days,"

"That's great, but how does that help us now?"

"Well

"Sounds great but how are we going to do it, there's very few people booked in for the next few weeks."

"They normally use professional, perfect models for their shoots, but I think we can make it more real, more natural."

"How so."

"I've

Fine for me, Suzi or Geri, But I could never see Mary agreeing. "What doe's Mary think of it?"

"I haven't told her yet."

I found myself shaking my head and laughing. "Good luck with that."

I

There

When the visitors entered the living room, Muriel seemed pleased as she stood to greet them.

"So good of you all, to come over."

To make ourselves useful; Suzi and I asked if anyone wanted tea,

"Maybe something a bit stronger?" Muriel said.

Everyone had a drink and they were having a good old natter, telling stories about Jim and 'the good old days'.

We

"Well

"Yes; I met Dave and Suzi the other day and the place is already looking better." Mike said, smiling at Suzi.