6-4=3

I hadn't heard from him in a couple of days and I'd been worried. We usually chatted and emailed each other at least daily, if not more often. Although I'd never actually met him in person, he'd helped me through a lot of my darkest times. I could always count on him to allow me to vent my anger and frustration at problems I was having. There had been a few times when I'd been really angry at Ryan and tried to paint all men with the same brush and I'd lashed out at him too. He'd never gotten upset with me. He just accepted it, changed the subject and moved on.

He had a way of sending me things like online cards or jokes that cheered me up. Perhaps part of my sadness over the past few days had stemmed from not hearing from him.

I read his email quickly. He'd sent me another virtual bouquet of flowers and a joke. God I wish that Ryan was like him. He always tried to cheer me up no matter what. I imagined being married to someone like that and got a little wet between my legs. It was a really novel idea. A man who thought that being with his wife and making her happy was a priority in life. I wonder who came up with a bizarre concept like that.

I looked at my instant messenger and saw that he was online. I quickly messaged him.

I waited for a couple of minutes and he got back to me

"Hi," he typed with a smiley face after it.

"Where were you?" I typed back.

"Sorry, How are you?" he typed.

"Really down," I typed. "My asshole husband is at it again. He's fucking some twenty year old, trailer trash bimbo. I guess I am getting old and he wants someone younger and fresher."

"You're on drugs," he typed back. I was about to start typing again. But another line of text appeared. "I did a bad thing." He typed.

"Not possible," I typed back. "You're too nice."

"I did a bad thing to you," he typed. That really made my heart lurch. Maybe all men were scum.

"What did you do?" I asked. My head was spinning. My husband is cheating on me. I don't have many friends and now the most important one of those, a man I'd never actually met, was admitting that he'd done something to me too. When would it end?

'I googled you," he typed. "I know it was wrong. We've been friends now for over a year and I was curious about what you look like. Your Facebook page came up and there were a couple of pictures of you. You're beautiful and your husband is crazy."

I was stunned. I sat there wondering when the last time that Ryan had paid me any kind of compliment was.

"Sorry," he'd typed.

"You're silly," I typed back. "Why didn't you just ask? I'd have sent you a pic."

"You're married," he'd typed back. "That wouldn't be appropriate. I didn't want to lose my best friend because she thought I was a stalker."

"Ha ha ha," I typed back. "Hey, don't forget you're married too. We wouldn't want your wife to get the wrong idea. What if she found a picture of me on your computer?"

He didn't type anything back. I just stared at a blank screen. I thought that maybe he didn't get my reply. I remembered that he was at work; maybe he just had a problem to handle.

"Are you still there?" I typed.

"Gotta go," he typed almost immediately. His avatar on my messenger showed that he was offline. Perhaps there was a problem he had to handle. I'd check on him again later. The funny thing was that ten minutes before, I'd been totally depressed. It was funny, but spending a few moments on a computer chatting with a man I'd never met had cheered me up immensely. He thought I was beautiful. I began to wonder all kinds of things. Did he really mean it? Or was he just trying to cheer me up? I began to wonder after all of these months and all of these messages we'd sent back and forth, what he looked like too.

The sound of the house phone ringing took me out of my thoughts. I picked up the phone and answered it still smiling. As I waited for the person on the other end of the line to say something, I wondered how the hell a guy I'd never laid eyes on could make me smile.

"Hi Honey," said Ryan over the phone. "I just called to tell you that I'll be working late. I didn't want you to worry about me or go to a lot of trouble with dinner."

"Fine Ryan," I said calmly. "Tell Tabitha I said hello." I heard the phone drop and a lot of static. It sounded like Ryan had dropped his cell phone and damaged it. I hung the phone up and it rang again within a minute.

I picked the phone up and he started whining before I said anything.

"Melanie, Baby, what are you talking about?" he asked. "My secretary is old and her name isn't Tabitha. I don't know anyone named Tabitha."

"Sorry Ryan," I said. "I guess I made a mistake."

"You had me scared for a moment there," he said.

"There's a lot of that going around," I said. "I'm standing here looking at a picture of you sticking your dick in some trailer park queen and the audio tape I have of it clearly sounds like you called her Tabitha."

"But uhm...ahh," he said. "We should probably talk about this. I'll be home on time after all, okay?"

"Nokay Ryan," I said. I never raised my voice. I stayed calm and cool. "Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to check into one of those motels that you've been using with Tabitha until I'm ready to speak to you."

"But Melanie, you don't understand any of this," he said. "I'm going to explain it all to you as soon as I get home."

"Ryan, I've already told you not to come home," I said.

"But you can't kick me out of my own house," he yelled. "I'm coming home."

"I've already called a locksmith," I said. I was looking for one on the internet even as I spoke to him, so it wasn't that big of a lie. "Besides, in most divorces the woman gets the house anyway. And then there's the fact that my parents bought this house for us Ryan and if you remember the deed it was very specific. It says Melanie Parks and husband. After our divorce, you won't be my husband Ryan. This has never really been your house, it's been our house."

"Melanie, we really need to talk before this gets out of hand," he mumbled.

"Ryan," I said. "It's already out of hand. Call me in a couple of days, Ryan and we'll talk."

"But Melanie," he whined.

"Ryan, right now, I'm very upset. This isn't the first time you've done this. Last time you swore it would never happen again. So call me in a couple of days when I've had a chance to calm down." I hung up the phone. I did call a locksmith. It took him over an hour to get there. I had him change the locks on all three of the doors in the house. I also had him change the lock on the garage door and even recode the remote for the big door. I also called the alarm company and had them reset the password for the home security system and recode the remotes for it as well.

I decided that the very best thing for me would be to sit down and figure out what I really wanted to do with the rest of my life. At thirty five years old, I was at a turning point. Should I try to salvage what I'd built over the past thirteen years or should I start from scratch before it was too late?

* * * * * *

Sandy

I was in a good mood and I probably shouldn't have been. I thought I was smarter than the average bear and I was, but then again bears are pretty dumb. My husband, Ben, had just left to go to work. Every morning, I watched him stuff himself inside of another female and enjoy himself immensely.

Some days I thought that she was his true love and I was only here to cook and clean for him and one day when the timing was right, to bear his children. That fucking Mustang was really his soul mate and I was just along for the ride.

Anyway, as I watched Ben drive away, before the echo of his loud ass exhaust system had died, I sent out the signal. It was subtle and you had to know what to look for. I took off the red sweater I was wearing and draped it over the railing on my front porch. Then I turned and walked into my house. Within a few moments of the door closing, there was a very soft knock at the side door. I opened it and my across the street neighbor, dressed in running gear slipped in.

Without a word he headed down into my basement.

"Am I the only one coming or just the first?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled at him.

"I miss the days when it was just you and me fucking up a storm," he said. He picked up the remote and pointed it towards the big screen TV on the back wall.

"Nick, don't," I said sharply.

"You mean to tell me that it's okay for me to fuck your pussy and your mouth any time I want, but I can't watch Ben's fucking TV?" he asked.

"Nick, I think you have the wrong idea," I said. He'd pissed me off, but before I could say anything else, the door opened and Greg and a couple of his friends came in.

Greg looked at me and grabbed my tits. As he rubbed them, he pushed me back towards the couch. He saw Nick but didn't say a word. Greg and Nick knew each other but weren't really friendly. The odd thing about it is that they were both friends of Ben's but didn't socialize with each other. The only reason they were both here now was because they were both fucking me.

There had been several occasions when both had shown up at the same time and there had been incidents in the past. I'd made sure they realized that if there were any problems, I'd cut both of them off. For that reason they knew enough to behave. Besides, they knew that they'd need each other because on the average morning, I could fuck both of them under the table and then take a shower, make dinner and give my husband all he could handle.

Greg had brought two guys that he worked with along with him. I'd had both of them in previous locations. One was an older guy, the other was a younger, black guy who was still nervous about being here.

As I allowed Greg to push me down onto the soft sofa that I'd already put a large beach towel over, he continued to rub my tits. He gently opened my blouse and pulled them out of my bra and began sucking them, first one and then the other.

The three other men were getting undressed and watching Greg warm me up was already having an effect on them. Any guilt I felt began to fade as my nipples elongated.

I rubbed Greg's dick through his pants and he moaned. He pulled one of his hands away from my breasts and reached for my pussy. At the same time, he slid his body up mine. My eyes were closed and I was trying to pull my panties down when I felt his lips touch mine.

My eyes snapped back open and I pushed him off of me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked. "Are you crazy? Get out of my house."

"I'm sorry Sandy," he snapped. "It was just feeling so good. I lost my head. It won't happen again."

"If it EVER does, you'll never touch me again," I said as coldly as I could.

"I have a problem," I said for the benefit of all of the men in the room. "I need far more sex than one man can give me. But make no mistake about it. I LOVE my husband. I ONLY love my husband. We can have sex as often as you want it. But it is only sex. It is only a physical act. There's nothing personal about it. Kissing is an intimate act that is shared between people who are in love. So as stupid as it sounds, if you try to kiss me, you have to leave."

I looked around the room and saw four men standing around feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. The four rampant hardons had wilted and they looked like a group of school boys whose teacher was scolding them.

I started rubbing my pussy and they all got back into it as if nothing had ever happened.

Nick got onto the couch with me and stuck his dick in my face. I opened my mouth and started gently sucking on the head of it.

The older guy that Greg had brought with him wasted no time getting between my legs. He really wasn't going to enjoy this. At his age, he should have learned to pace himself. But then at his age, he was only good for one nut anyway.

He pushed his dick into me and started humping away. At first, I didn't feel anything. But after a while, just the friction began to make my body react. I looked up and he had the biggest smile on his face, but I felt empty. I didn't wonder about the man. I didn't know his name and truthfully, if I passed him on the street I probably wouldn't recognize him. He was only a dick.

My body reacted to being fucked the way a runner's does to a run. If you don't do it you feel strange and you get irritable. What I was doing with these guys was like training. It just got me ready for the big event.

On the other hand, sex with my husband was special. That was what I trained for. Ben had the ability to just lift me completely out of my body when we were together. Ben could walk into our bedroom and I just reacted.

My nipples hardened instantly when I saw him. Ben made my pussy drip and my breathing quicken without even touching me. When we kissed, I tried to suck his soul out of him. Ben is my world. I seriously doubt that I could live without him. Just thinking about him had caused me to start producing more juice and my pussy was soaking wet. The old man fucking me started pumping me even harder. He really thought that he was ringing my chimes.

"Oh yeah fuck me, baby," I moaned involuntarily. "Fuck me Ben. I'm yours."

The old man stopped abruptly and his dick shrank. The other three all laughed at him as they realized what had just happened.

"Fucking bitch," he spat.

"Don't get mad Frank," laughed Greg, as he took the old man's place between my legs. "Look at it the way it is. It's a win-win situation. You get some really good pussy. She gets to use you as a human dildo while she thinks about her husband."

They all laughed at that and Greg was telling the truth. After a couple of hours or so, they'd all go home and tell their wives that they'd had to stay late because the morning shift guys were late again. They'd crawl into their beds and go to sleep with a good feeling and dream about the fun they'd had fucking me. I'd take a shower and clean the house and make dinner. Then I'd soak in the tub just to make sure that I was extra clean and get ready to ring Ben's chimes when he got home.

For the next couple of hours, the guys did their best to wear me out and failed. They bent me into every position they could think of and used my pussy like they owned it. I lost count of how many blow jobs I did or how many times they fucked me. I think I actually came once or twice but they were small orgasms at best, not like the ones Ben gives me.

With Ben, it almost seems like I'm having a stroke. I lose control of my motor functions and I can feel my pussy clamping on his dick. It feels like my body wants to squeeze every drop of fluid he can muster. It's as if my body is trying to overwhelm my birth control implant and make a baby every time he's in me. With these guys, it's just rubbing. If they keep rubbing my pussy long enough, sooner or later I get off. But it's just not the same.

"Huh?" I ask. I come out of my thoughts just in time to notice that Greg is fucking me again. The other three guys are getting dressed and they're all looking at me like I'm crazy. They're all shaking their heads and they have that tired but happy look like they just ran a marathon. If things keep up this way we may need to add a few more guys.

"Whose pussy is this?" grunts Greg as he pounds me as hard and as fast as he can.

"Ben's," I answer without even thinking about it.

"Well, thanks for letting me use it," he retorts just as he collapses onto me. Just as his dick starts to spurt inside of me, I roll over and push him off.

"Don't come back for a month," I snapped.

"What?" he asks. "You're safe. You can't get pregnant. You've got that thing in you."

"Don't act stupid, Greg. No one gets to cum inside of me except..."

"Yeah, I know," he said angrily. "Fucking Ben..."

"Make it two months," I said. "Maybe if you have to only fuck Betty for a while, you'll appreciate what I'm giving you."

"You do this more for Betty than for me anyway," he said.

"Just get out," I said. He looked really hurt. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought he was going to cry. I'd already decided that I was done with Greg. The two month thing was just to ease the blow.

Greg didn't realize it but he was actually right.

"Sandy, I need to tell you something," he said.

"Let me guess," I said. "You're feeling guilty about what we're doing, right? You think we should come clean and tell Betty and Ben what we've done, right?"

He looked at me as if I had rocks in my head.

He stood up straighter and stuck out his chest.

"Sandy, I know that this didn't start out in a good way, but..." he paused and I could tell that what he was about to say was terrifying for him. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Sandy, I love you. I think I should divorce Betty and you should divorce Ben and..."

The sound of my laughter blocked out whatever he was going to say next. He turned red and his eyes showed anger, pain and several other emotions. I realized then that I'd been right. I needed to get Greg out of my life.

I'd read all kinds of stories about how people snapped and got violent in situations where they'd been humiliated or driven past their tolerance for emotional stability. I decided to soften the blow to keep him from doing something we might both regret.

"Greg, we need to talk about this. I do have feelings for you, but I really and truly love Ben. I can't even pretend that I'd give him up, but we need to talk about what you're feeling too. Forget about the two months," I said. I rubbed his face affectionately. "Call me tomorrow and we'll talk about this and see if we can figure out something that works for all of us."

He smiled and put his clothes on. Just as he got ready to walk out the door, he looked back at me. "I really do love you, Sandy," he said. "I'm forty years old, not some kid. I know that you love Ben. And Ben is a really good guy, but I love you too."

As soon as he was outside of the door, I locked it. I watched him get into his car and drive off. He lived on the next block. I started laughing so hard I almost peed.

There was no way I'd ever even consider divorcing Ben for Greg or any other man alive.

I didn't want to see Greg get hurt. I didn't want to see his wife, Betty, who was a friend of mine, get hurt either. The whole situation was getting out of control. As I headed upstairs for a shower, I thought about the whole fucked up situation.

As the warm water and fresh smelling shower gel coated my body, I thought back to my college days. I'd been pretty innocent at twenty. I'd been taking liberal arts classes because I didn't have a clue about what I wanted to do with my life.

Then I met Steve. Steve brought me out of my shell. I'd messed around a few times and I wasn't a virgin, but Steve introduced me to regular sex. Steve was the first guy I went out with where it was a foregone conclusion that when we got together that he was going to get some pussy.

There was no let's go out to a movie. It was more like, let's go out to a movie, first. After a few months together, we no longer went out at all. He just came over to fuck me. We went to a party at his house once and we left the party and went up to his room. After he fucked me, we were lying on the bed and I was still horny. I didn't often get off with Steve. He was pretty selfish when it came to sex. He usually got off IN me and then got off OF me.

I was lying there frustrated when I noticed his roommate watching us. The itch in my pussy was awful and Steve had started snoring. His roommate got bolder and stepped into the room. When I didn't say anything, he came over to the bed. He reached out very slowly and I knew what was going to happen. The itch in my nether regions over rode my morals and my sanity.

I was torn by my need for satisfaction and the fact that my boyfriend was asleep on the bed beside me. But by the time his fingers touched my pussy, the debate was over. He gently stroked my vaginal lips and skirted my clit teasing me. Then he stuck his index finger slowly inside the hole and I knew I'd go crazy before too much longer.