Melinda would have spotted it as a fake in a second - but not her dad. We had a meeting where he tried to convinve me to give Melinda another chance. He said that he was willing to pay a lawyer to keep the divorce from happening. So I showed the video to her Dad. I told him this was one of the easier ones to view and that I had hours of the stuff.
Evidently he was very effective in persuading Melinda to drop her opposition. I guess I would be too if an irate son-in-law was threatening to e-mail the video to everyone and anyone they knew – family, friends, coworkers, etc..
The clincher when all was said and signed was the joint custody. Alternating weeks, I made sure that there was specific and clear language in the agreement that Melinda was prohibited from bringing her lovers (I insisted that the plural be used) into the house.
Call and Raise
You know what's funny - the last thing I expected when getting divorced was the effect it seemed to have on women. I'd be lying if I didn't say that my own self-esteem had taken a huge hit after being cuckolded by Melinda. You can't help but feel you're not much of a man, at the very least you must be a lousy lover. I was shocked to find out that my new marital status, or lack there of, was like catnip to women.
During the divorce I had stubbornly taken the high ground regarding revenge fucking or even dating for that matter. That just wasn't who I was – plus my lawyer insisted on no additional complications. But as an officially single man with good credit and plenty of disposable income – suddenly, I was a catch. And you want to know what was even better? There were a lot of women out there determined to see me through this difficult time. I was pleasantly surprised at the number of women willing to help me get me back in the saddle - so to speak.
They were so persistent that I began to look forward to my time living at home with the kids – I needed the rest. I had offers from woman at work, from acquaintances (including some who were good friends with Melinda), and even from fellow residents of my new apartment building where I stayed during my "off week."
This is how the first time happened while I was still moving into my new place. I'd ordered pizza, so the soft knock indicating its arrival wasn't unexpected. The delivery person sure was. I recognized her as someone I'd seen in the building – I didn't know her name.
"Hi, my name 's Darlynne (she pronounced it "Darlin'), with a "ynne" and I'd just like to welcome you to the building." Darlynne was average looking and had an easy to like quality about her. I invited her in and we shared the pizza and a couple of beers.
Darlynne was divorced, "he tried to fuck everything female over eighteen and some under I suspect" personable, plumpish and refreshingly straightforward.
"Tim, I like you. You seem like a real nice guy. So anytime you need the company of a woman you just call ole Darlynne." I nodded unknowingly. I almost started to say that I could handle the cooking and cleaning just fine – as a freshly single guy I was really clueless.
"I love oral sex – both the giving and the getting, fucking only happens after a date. I don't do anal, and if you try, that'll be the last time you see me." Darlynne had spoken so clearly and matter of fact that I wasn't even erect - "now, let's see that cock of yours" – yet.
Darlynne had my zipper down and cock out in no time at all. She looked at it with a critical eye. "Well all right Tim, you've got a good one here – lucky me."
It was, without a doubt, the weirdest proposition I had ever received. It was followed by one truly excellent blowjob. There's just something to be said for a woman who truly enjoys having a cock in her mouth. I realized that Darlynne was such a woman – lucky me.
It wasn't just her enthusiasm, it was her technique too. She used her lips, tongue and teeth to maximum effect. She was also a "hands on" fellatrix. By that I mean she used her hands to increase my pleasure. Lots of women will use their hands wrapped around your cock to keep from gagging, or to hurry you along – not Darlynne.
I can't begin to describe what she was doing, mostly because my head was tilted back in unrestrained ecstasy. She tugged, she twisted, she tickled, and she caressed. And when I was getting close she asked me to trust her. At my nod her finger slid up my butt cheeks and wormed its way inside. A tap of my prostate at the peak of orgasm magnified it beyond comprehension.
The next night the blowjob was repeated followed by my going down on her. By the end of night we were fucking. I'd managed to convince her that the pizza dinner we'd shared the night before counted as being a date. We started fucking frequently.
Not that we were exclusive – far from it. A couple of weeks after we'd taken up, Darlynne had to go out of town on business during one of my off weeks. So she sent a friend over. Rhonda wasn't into oral near as much as Darlynne, but – oh god – could that woman fuck. Rhonda did things with her hips that were unbelievable. It was like a hula dance – I guess - with a lot of Kegels mixed in. It was almost scary the way that woman was able to milk my balls empty.
I have to admit that I was a bit of a slut at first. I bedded, well it's probably more accurate to state that I fucked and was fucked by seventeen different women during the first year of my divorce. The sex was great – if a little empty. I freely admit that I missed the intimacy that Melinda and I had once had. On the other hand, that missing only fueled my continuing anger toward her. I made no effort to hide my amorous activities from her. I enjoyed seeing "that" hurt in her eyes every Sunday evening.
Slowly things settled into a routine, even the kids seemed to be doing okay. Holidays were painful especially the first time through but we managed. Months became years, and we all got older if not wiser. It was four years post divorce that the unexpected happened.
I fell in love.
Laying Down Your Cards
The kids were involved in a youth group at church. The group went on all kinds of outings, including a couple of snow weekends each winter. I was asked to chaperone on occasion and was more then happy to help out.
It was during a ski trip that Jillian, one of the other chaperones (she was the sister of one of the youth ministers), broke her arm. After first aid was rendered by the ski patrol I was asked to run her down the hill to get it x-rayed and put in a cast. The hospital, once we got there, was swamped due to a traffic accident and we ended up going across the street to eat and kill a couple of hours. Jillian was cute, rather than beautiful, and all of twenty-five. As we talked and ate I became aware that we had real chemistry between us. I found myself deeply attracted to Jillian. She did nothing to dissuade me.
It took me a month to summon the courage to ask her out on an official date. After all, I was twenty-one years her senior. She accepted (she told me her dad was twelve years older then her mom and they were still together) and we began to date. I slowly let go of my harem over the next few weeks as Jillian and I got serious. Everything was happening fairly fast.
Jillian and I were a couple of months into our relationship (yep, that's what it was) when Melinda ask if I was in love with Jillian. I was all prepared to deny it when I realized I couldn't lie about something like that – I answered with a quiet "yes." Melinda just nodded and then hugged me, "You deserve to be happy."
I was stunned. One, that I realized that I really did love Jillian. Two, that Melinda sensed and accepted it. And three, when I told this to Jillian she simply smiled and said it had taken me long enough.
For the first time in years I realized that I was truly happy. I was actually content within myself. That was when I understood that there was something very important that I needed to do. I had accepted Melinda's apology for her unfaithfulness years ago, but at the time I refused to forgive her. It was time for me to formally forgive Melinda.
During the drive over I recalled Melinda's effort at apology and explanation. The first time hardly counted. It was just before we signed te divorce and custody agreements. Melinda had asked for a half hour meeting – just the two of us – before signing. I knew what she was going to try and talk me out of divorce. I went prepared. On the way to the meeting I played recordings of Melinda extolling Ernie's cock and cum. I spent the entire half hour looking at her like she was less than dog shit. When the half hour was up I looked at my watch and picked up a pen. She knew she had failed.
Her second attempt was just after our first round through the holidays, the first time we celebrated as a split apart family. Due to a quirk in the calendar I ended up with the kids for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a miserable time and early in January Melinda asked to speak with me.
That's when I found out she knew I was "dating" or as she termed it "your open door, open fly bimbo policy." It went downhill from there.
"Look Tim, I know I messed up. I've caused a lot of pain in our family – our family Tim. The holidays were horrible – for me, for you, and for the kids – we've all suffered. I know that you've been with a number of different women and it's just tearing me apart. We are meant to be together Tim, all of us. I've scheduled an appointment for us with a couples counselor. It's time we got back together – I've learned my lesson.
I was aghast. I was so surprised, so stunned at what Melinda had just said that I couldn't respond at first. Then the anger began to flow and my mind crystallized into cold focus. "Learned your lesson?"
"Yes Tim. I will never lie to you again. I will be completely honest." Melinda looked at me with an expression of complete earnestness. I guessed that she believed her own bullshit.
"I see. What about your lovers? Does that mean you're planning on giving them up?"
"Singular, not plural. I haven't talked to or seen Ernie since that horrible day. Unlike you, I haven't dated anyone."
"Oh. I see." I looked at her and nodded my head slowly. "So then it's just straight to the sack or does a back seat or park bench work just as well."
"How dare you! I have not been with any other man – period. Unlike you and your pussy on parade lifestyle." I could see that she was getting pretty wound up. I just let her go. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to know that you leave the kids and spend you week fucking anything that's willing?"
"One we're not married Melinda. Two, I'm a single guy now. And three..."
"Like that means anything. You and I belong together. It doesn't matter that you're single – it's still cheating on me. You should stop playing around and give us a chance to get back together."
I'd had enough. "Look Melinda, if you're horny. Come on by some night and we can party. I always had a fantasy of you, me and another woman – I'm game."
That was pretty much the end of that conversation. Melinda would try again every six months or so. It was only about a year ago that she was able to apologize with any real sincerity. She'd been in therapy and I guess it seemed to help. I realized that as soon as she began to speak, even the tone of her voice was softer than usual.
"Tim, I want to start off by saying that I don't believe that I will ever be able to realize how deeply I hurt you with my betrayal of our marriage and my unconscionable lying to cover it up. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for the pain I've caused you and the kids all because of me selfishness. It's only through therapy that I've come to understand how despicable and disgusting my behavior was. I am truly sorry."
Melinda went on to tell me that her infidelity (she never called it anything else after that) was a result of undiagnosed depression, a mid life crisis and a complete breakdown in her values, morals, and ethics. She had done it – been unfaithful – simply because she could. When all was stripped away, that's what she was left with.
Ernie was not some amazing lover – just different. His cock and cum weren't anything special – the cheating made it seem better. There was nothing romantic or seductive about the way she met Ernie. It was work related, she met him while I was away on business and they had danced and flirted on a Friday night after work. Ernie had kept in touch with Melinda after I'd returned. That was when the deceptions began. That's when Melinda realized how thrilling it was to sneak around behind me. It became a game between her and Ernie.
The next time I left town for a couple of days, He had talked her into taking a half day off. He took her to a restaurant in the lobby of a down town hotel. They had flirted outrageously during the meal and drunk a fair amount of wine.
He asked her if she was interested in dessert and offered a suggestion – the specialty of the house. He slid a room key across the table. Melinda said she was flattered and declined Ernie's offer. He talked her into at least checking out the view.
Once in the room, she realized that it had no view. Ernie said the prettiest view in the world was standing right in from of him. Melinda said that she just stood there looking at him – aroused out of her mind.
Ernie pushed her up against the wall, reached up under dress and pulled her panited to the side and shoved his cock into her. To this day she said she had no recollection of him unzipping, or even being erect. He fucked her savagely against the wall – pounding into her with relentless thrust until he came in her. It was the wickedest, nastiest thing she had ever done.
Ernie pulled out and smoothed out her dress. Melinda said she just stood there with his cum running down her legs. He undressed and sat on the bed. He looked at her and said, "Come get me hard if you want to fuck some more."
They fucked for the rest of the afternoon. When I returned she took care of her guilt by paying extra attention to me. Only she was already waiting for the next time I'd be out of town. Eventually she became so comfortable with cheating on me she didn't wait for me to be out of town. That went on until I caught her.
When she was done, I repeated that I accepted her apology and left it at that. I purposefully did not say that I forgave her. That's why I needed to do that before getting serious with Jillian. I needed to forgive Melinda so I could move forward.
You should have seen the tears that Sunday night– Melinda, me, the kids. We were all bawling our eyes out. Some tears were tears of sorrow and regret, most were happy tears. I told Melinda that despite it all, there was a part of me that would always love her. She said that she had never stopped loving me. I nodded in understanding.
A Father's Need
Nothing is forever. That's always a tough one to learn. I loved Jillian and she loved me, we were happy in our relationship. But, both of us acknowledged that marriage was not in our future. For one thing Jillian wanted kids and I'd had a vasectomy just after Chayna was born and was unwilling to consider reversal. Needless to say our time together had an expiration date; it's just that neither of us knew what it was. We found out all too soon.
During one of my off weeks, on a Saturday afternoon to be specific, Jillian was lying on top of me after a particularly vigorous session of love-making when her mom called. Jillian's Dad was in the hospital felled by a stroke. His outlook wasn't promising.
We had Jillian packed and at the airport as soon as we could. We hugged and kissed and in that moment realized that we were probably saying good-bye - permanently. Jillian started crying. I just tried to hug her closer to me. When they called her plane we separated for the final time. Her parting words were – "I'll never forget you or ever stop loving you."
I maintained my composure until I got in my car, then I cried. I was alone and it hurt terribly. I sat there and realized that my anger towards Melinda at the time of our divorce had masked a lot of pain – pain I had never really dealt with. Then my single and available status had distracted me from any serious introspection. My time with Jillian had changed all of that. It cured me of my anger toward Melinda and re-opened my heart to love.
Since it was now Sunday morning I drove to the house. Melinda and the kids realized something was wrong immediately. When I told them what had transpired they were very sympathetic.
Melinda just took over; she made me breakfast, then lunch and finally dinner. The two of us ended up talking until one in the morning, and then she went home. I didn't sleep well that night at all.
During the week I talked to Jillian a couple of times. Our conversations only finalized what we had both sensed at the airport. Jillian's dad was going to take a long time in recovery and Jillian was going to stay and help her mom. I was really depressed. The kids were aware of what was going on and were incredibly supportive.
Never the less, that Friday I found myself very much alone. The kids were out with friends and I had long since thrown out my little black book. Jillian had cured me of my pussy prowling ways and I had no desire to return to them. I was contemplating dinner when the door bell rang.
Melinda stood there with a pizza, a six-pack, and a comforting smile. I returned the smile, took the six-pack out of her hand and followed the aroma of the pizza as she walked past me into the house.
We had a delightful evening, chatting into the wee hours again. I was truly sorry to see her go home. Surprisingly I slept fairly well that night. The next day Saturday had a very similar outlook; the kids had plans. I called Melinda at three in the afternoon and asked her if I could treat her to dinner. She demurred at first but gave in when I threatened to show up at her door with a bunch of Chinese take out. Melinda cut right to the chase.
"Are you asking me out Tim?" Her tone was conversational as much as interrogatory.
I noted the ambiguity in the obviousness of our conversation. Man, she was cagey; she was leaving it for me to define. What she didn't know was that I had thought this through before calling her. "Exactly that."
"Exactly what?" Have you ever heard a smile? I was sure I was.
"What you just said." I wasn't going to get caught so easily.
"So you are then." There was the slightest hint of wariness. "Asking me out...on a date."
"Yes. I am." I was quietly confident and let an easy pause complete that thought. Then I spoke quickly. "Unless you have other plans, I certainly do not want to impose on you. Perhaps another time would be better?"
"NO!" She spoke a little too loudly and eagerly. "I don't have anything important planned." Nice recovery.
"All right." I dialed it way back. "Well, if it's not a problem, I'll pick you up about seven – that okay?"
"Seven sharp is good." She sounded comfortable. I waited for the inevitable. "Ah, Tim – so what kind of place do you have in mind?"
The question as to whether or not this was a date paled in comparison to this question. This was the real question, this wasn't about what to eat, this was about what to wear. If clothes make the man, then the way a woman dresses tells you – shit, I had no idea. I played my trump card.
"I know of no woman who is better able to look good for any occasion than you – I'll pick you up at seven. Bye." I hung up immediately. In the next moment, garbled syntax aside, I was hit by a full fledged panic attack. I had just asked my ex-wife out on a date – A DATE!
What the hell was I doing? Was I serious here? And if I was serious, just what exactly was I serious about? I had thought that I'd thought this all through thoroughly - now I wasn't so sure. Was this some kind of a rebound thing because of Jillian? Was I just fucking with Melinda or was I fucking around with Melinda or was I thinking that I wanted to fuck Melinda. I was alternately horny and horrified.