Out of Love Ch. 01

We all digested that as we sipped coffee. Then Wendy said "With what? What tools do we have? How can we deal with a tree? Isn't there someone we can call?"

Mark gestured slightly impatiently, "Can you get service out here? I can't and Jim can't either. We do have some tools -- I found them in the shed on the back of the property. But... it's a hand saw and an axe. Whoever deals with this is doing it the old fashioned way."

Again, we were silent for a moment or two.

"So, I think we should draw lots."

Another silence.

"Fine" I said. "I know exactly how this will go, as I know my luck, but ok, let's do it. It has to get done."

Mark ripped some strips from his papers, made one smaller, juggled the three of them around his back and offered it to me. And, as god is my witness, I ended my marriage by picking the shortest one.

"Fuck" I said softly, but not in a surprised way. My life is always like this. A shitty job to be done? Guess who'll end up doing it.

I shrugged. "Right. Ok, well might as well go survey the damage and get an idea of what I have to get done." I got up, went upstairs to get changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and Chloe came up behind me while I was changing.

"Don't be gone long" said, breathlessly, as she ran her hands over my chest. "I'll bring you lunch."

I turned around, kissed her hard, tousled her hair and said "Your big manly lumberjack will be back before you know it."

She stepped back and laughed, "Just don't be wearing women's clothing and picking up men in bars, ok?"

I laughed too, pulled on the T-shirt and went downstairs.

Mark directed me to where the tools were and off I went.

The tree across the roadway in was about a quarter of a mile from the house -- just enough that going back was too much of a hassle to actually do. I looked around and selected a likely bush if I needed to use the bathroom and smiled at the thought. Getting back to nature indeed!

I had brought my iPhone and Bluetooth speakers and set it down and got it going and then surveyed the work I had ahead of me.

Looking at the tree, it was a disaster. It was an old oak, more than a hundred years if I was any judge. It had been pulled out of its roots to a small degree, but the big problem was the limb that had sheared off and fallen over the roadway. The tree itself was at an angle, but steep enough still as to let a car go by -- I didn't need to chop the tree down, just get the limb off that had torn and was strewn across the road. The problem was that the tear where the limb had partially come off the main trunk was high up, higher than I could reach. I could cut the limb that had fallen across the road, but I couldn't get high enough to cut it high enough to let a car through -- I just couldn't get the angle on it to cut it.

There was literally no choice but to chop the whole tree down and hope that it fell the right way. I had no experience of this but, what the hell, how hard can it be?

Yeah, I learned. It's hard. Oak trees are hard. The axe wasn't the sharpest I've ever used and I was tired from the night before. I spent all morning chopping and was extremely sore in the shoulder area.

Chloe came to find me around 1pm, and brought me water, soda, beer (which did make me wonder what was going on up at the house -- more alcohol indeed I suspected) and a couple of sandwiches. They were welcome and she spent the time massaging my shoulders and I felt immeasurably better because it.

I don't think she was hammered yet, but she was definitely on her way -- there were indications of it -- conversational patterns and subjects she talked about that she wouldn't normally talk about unless there was alcohol involved. I discovered later that I was wrong, and she'd drunk sparingly. It was the weed they'd been smoking that was the culprit. When I discovered that, I also discovered that Mark had made all the strips short, and since I was offered the first once, I would automatically get the shortest one. He'd even winked at Jim while he'd done it -- all because he knew my feelings on weed and wanted a clear day to get wasted with everyone.

To be clear, I don't much care about other people doing weed. If you want to, that's your affair. Just don't do it around me. It's a bug bear with me and I don't like people doing it around me -- I have some bad memories from when I was a kid -, and out of respect for me, Chloe doesn't. She had a more liberal upbringing than me, and as such didn't see the harm in it and I knew she indulged when elsewhere, and I was ok with that -- just don't do it around me or come home to me under those effects. I don't know why I felt so strongly, - after all the effects are very like getting drunk, but with no hangover -- but I do, and everyone respected that. Their way of dealing with it was to get me out of the picture so they could indulge and, once I was able to look back, I could see that.

Chloe stuck around for a bit longer, to watch me work, and then said something cryptic about "If you thought last night was great, wait till tonight!" and wandered off.

I was still hung over and not thinking straight or I'd have worried about that hint, but as it was, I had a job to do and I wanted it done. It took me another hour to get the tree down and while it fell the right way, the branch was still across the road. It took me another two hours to hack off the limb, then another two hours to get it off the road and cut up. By 5pm I was beat, very disgusting and sweaty and badly needed a bath. But the job was done. By now my phone was out of juice from playing music --which was fine, there was no reception up here anyway.

I hefted the axe and whistled the "hi ho" song from Snow White on the way home.

When I arrived, the party was in full swing. And I mean party. There was music playing, the fire was going again -- Mark had cleaned out the wet muck from the fire put from the night before and restocked it with dry tinder and there were drinks everywhere. Mark had brought out his bar on a side table and Wendy and Kathy were actually dancing.

What really made my eyes pop were what the girls were wearing, or not wearing as the case maybe. Kathy was in a sheer red number, with slits up the side that made it plain she was not only not wearing a bra, but no panties either. The dress was two parts, a front and back and the two were connected via cris-cross lace ties. It was deep cut in the front and the back and revealed a LOT. I had no idea she owned a dress like this, let alone would wear one. Wendy was in a white halter top dress, which was in the Grecian style. It draped down the front, cut down to basically her waist. If she lent left or right too much, either one of her magnificent tits would fall out the side. You just couldn't stop staring. She was the ultimate wasp and yet, dressed like this?

Then my gaze fell on Chloe and I just stopped. She was wearing a jacket and dress combination. It was a black pleated skirt that feel to above her knee, but it was when she turned on hearing me arrive that I saw that the jacket she was wearing was a little tight on her, because it was buttoned up, with one button. And she was obviously not wearing anything underneath, since it pushed her boobs up and you could just see all the cleavage.

"Our warrior returns!" said Wendy, on seeing me first. I just stood there, looking around at the scene. Mark was at the grill, Jim was talking with Chloe and Wendy and Kathy were dancing by the drinks table. The guys were in slacks and collared T-shirts, and looking very slick and coffered. The girls were dressed....how they were dressed. I still couldn't get over that. And there was me, smelly, sweating and generally disgusting.

Chloe gave me her radiant smile and came over and put a hand on my bicep. "There you are. So glad to see you. We were waiting for you." I could tell she was a bit blasted but what the hell, that's what we were there for right? So many thoughts I wish I could retract and go back and revisit but this is the way of the world.

"You like?" she said, as she pirouetted in front of me. I nodded -- she knows I have a thing for pleated skirts -- and just looked at her enquiringly. "Jim brought a bunch of dress up clothes, in the chest" she said.

I stood there, absorbing that -- a whole bunch of questions jumping out at me like "How did he know her size?" and "Why would you do that?", that I wanted to ask but didn't want to get into right there.

Something was up and I wasn't sure exactly what yet, but on the other hand, she did look a million dollars and I was looking forward to getting into it with her later, like last night.

I said "I need to bathe, I'm disgusting."

"Just the smell of honest labor" said Chloe, although she did wrinkle her nose a bit and then added "But if you could be laboring honestly somewhere else, that would be nice. Go shower." Then she came in close and whispered "Got a surprise for you later..."

Boy, were those words prophetic.

Jim came over, thrust a beer in my hand and said "Get cleaned up boy. We have games tonight!"

So I went upstairs and took a bath. I could have showered but I was sore and my muscles ached and I'd been promising myself a soak all day. Sure, it would take longer, but they downstairs weren't going anywhere.

Before I did sink into the hot water, I tried to shave my head with my razor but found it hard going because it was so blunt. That was strange since it was almost a new blade, but again, I was tired and worn out from a day's hard work and frankly, my wife's attire and behavior were more at the forefront of my brain. Because of this I also completely missed the small hairs at the bottom of the tub when I took a bath or more to the point, noticed them, wondered what they were and then just swished them down the drain.

Sitting in the hot bath and drinking the beer was not a smart move on my part -- when I got out of the bath my body felt better but the combination of hot water and beer had really got me even more tired than I was before.

But I felt I had to be a part of this, whatever "this" was. I went into the bedroom and found chinos and a collared shirt laid out for me. These weren't my clothes, but no one seemed to wearing clothes they owned this evening either, so what the hell.

I put them, on and they fitted to a T. I went downstairs, the weariness hitting me repeatedly.

Everyone cheered when I appeared and instantly there were whisky toasts. Jim pressed one into my hand and I looked at it and said to him "I'm not sure...." He just ignored me and said "Don't be silly. That's a 300 buck bottle right there. Drink up and be happy."

I looked at Chloe and she raised her glass at me, as did everyone else. So, to go along, I drank it. At this point we retired inside, moving the bar with us.

I think over the next hour I did about 3 shots and 2 beers and each hour, the weariness got stronger. We played charades and it was all about sex positions and acts and I just didn't get most of them, not because I'm a prude but because I was so tired and kept dozing off.

Eventually, Chloe sat down with me in the couch and looked at me a little concernedly "Are you ok honey?" she asked.

I nodded. "I'm just really tired. Not sure how long I can stay up. Last night, being woken in the night, the booze last night, the work today, the booze now... I'm just..."

She looked me in the eyes and said "Well, here's something to keep you awake". She looked around, and while the others were all present, they were all turned away. She nodded grabbed my hand and put it up her skirt. I discovered her surprise was that not only was she not wearing any underwear, she'd also shaved her pussy bare.

She never did this, despite me asking a few times. She always showed scorn for those who did, keeping hers trimmed but with bush. None of this landing strip or Brazilian for her. Until tonight.

I just looked at her, with both a quivering smile and incomprehension in my eyes. She just smiled back, that vivacious smile and took a sip of her drink. I was about to ask something and she put a finger on her lips and said "Later". Smiling again, she got up and honestly, that's about as much as I remember of the rest of the night.

I think I sat on the couch for a while, I got offered another beer, which I guess I accepted. Basically though, I just fell asleep there and then. Totally out. I vaguely remember having someone shake me, and someone say my name at some point, but I couldn't tell you if that was real or not. I guess it must have been. The combination of the night before, being woken in the night, the intense physical work of the day and all the alcohol took its toll and I just passed out.

I woke up later that night -- I was dehydrated to the nth degree and had dry mouth and I woke with a slight start. I was still on the couch, only someone had thrown a blanket over me, which was nice.

I could hear the sounds of sex again, and I turned my head and the sight I beheld was one I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

My wife, the love of my life, who I loved more than anything in the world, was bent over the coffee table, facing sideways to me. Her skirt was up around her waist and her jacket on the floor. She had two arms on the coffee table and her breasts were swinging as she was pounded from behind by Jim, intensely. He had one hand on her back and the other leaned over, pulling her hair. Chloe was biting her lip and although both had their eyes closed the worst of all was that I could see that Chloe had a cum face on. The one I had almost never seen.

She moaned "Fuck me harder, stud. I need your cock" -- almost the exact same words she'd said to me the night before.

My blood turned to ice and my entire life crashed around me in that instant.