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I dreaded these visits. They were always meant to be joyous reunions for children to be reconnected with their father and they always ended up being my worst nightmare. When I had met and married Carl nine years ago, I had thought that I'd met the man of my dreams. Carl Zipher was a truck driver and I immediately fell in love with his gypsy way of life. I'd always wanted to see the world and there was nothing wrong with seeing it from the inside of a truck cab, was there?
Unfortunately, one of our very first trysts resulted in my first pregnancy and nine months later, my daughter, Hailie was born. He wasn't present for the birth. He had to haul a load of heifers up North and got back just as we were being released from the hospital. We rode home in the big rig and happily took up residence in his double-wide trailer. He went out the next day and bought everything I as a new mother needed and I was so grateful, that I didn't really care when he went back out on the road.
Little Jason followed the next year and Roman was last, ushered in with a violent storm that marked his life. Carl was stuck in Tuskegee, choosing to hunker down in a cheap Holiday Inn instead of pushing through to be with his family. I took the initiative to get the four of us on a bus to Alabama and we were all surprised to find a woman who insisted that she was me: his wife. Of course, things went down from there. I divorced him, went on Maury Povich's show to have paternity tests done and took the results to court, making him pay child support.
I didn't love him any more. I was sure of it.
Part of the agreement that we'd made had to do with visitation and each Saturday when he wasn't on the road, he'd come by the house and pick the kids up, spending as much time as he could with them before heading back on the road. He got acclimated to paying child support and that ceased to be an acrimonious item that lay between us. Now all we had to do was agree on the best interests of our children and we'd be home free.
I heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway and knew that he was here. The kids were outside and their shouts of joy floated through the open window, making me feel a mixture of happiness because it was obvious that they loved their father but sad that he was not coming home to stay like other husbands. I went to the door and watched him emerge from the cab of the truck, picking each child up and giving them a fatherly hug and kiss. I was surprised at the feeling that coursed through me when he looked up and our eyes met.
He reached into the truck and gave them three presents, smiling as they ran off to the side yard to open them, then walked to the door where I was standing. I unlocked the screen and held a beer out to him. "Hard ride?"
"Not really. A lot of construction going on. I got stuck behind a water truck for ten miles and it pissed me off."
I laughed. I knew how much he hated those things. "So what'd you get the kids?"
"GameBoys." When he saw my eyebrows rise, he smiled. "I did really well this trip."
"Good for you. Roman needs braces."
"Lia ... " He looked over at me. "I'd like us to get back together."
"I don't think that's going to happen, Carl."
He set his beer down and came near me, his after shave spicy and musky in my nostrils and I felt a familiar twinge, despite my show of indifference. His mouth found the sensitive skin of my neck and dropped wet kisses there. I tried not to react but it was impossible. I hadn't had sex in nearly three years and my response showed it.
"I'm really sorry, Lia. I was an absolute shit." He kissed his way up my throat and across my cheek. "Let me apologize."
Without a warning, his mouth was on mine and we kissed deeply, memories of our previous couplings flying through my mind. His kiss was hot and my nipples hardened under his palms. We stumbled back against the paneled wall, his hands pushing my sweatshirt up and fondling my double Ds with callused hands. The roughness took my breath away and I moaned at the feel of his lips on my tits. As good as it felt, I wanted to him inside me and he read my mind, dropping his pants and unleashing his seven-inch uncut beast.
The first thrust lifted me off my feet but I didn't care. After so long, I was so tight that I just wanted to be pounded. He did exactly what I wanted, making his strokes hard and true, ramming into me until I was coating him with thick cream. His cock pulsed inside me, splashing my cunt with his hot jizz and I smiled, shivering at the feelings. He slipped out of me and we managed to get dressed before the kids came in, screaming in happiness about their new toys.
Carl went back to get his beer and we settled in for dinner at home, a rare occasion since we'd been divorced and watching him, I realized that I didn't hate him. I still loved him.
Oh, well. So much for my disguise ...