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"Love?" I thought. I didn't reply, but kissed her on the forehead.
****************
The next day was busy. We had to go to the airport to receive Jimmy's body. I didn't let Charlene identify the body (although there was no doubt that it was him, the medical examiner still needed confirmation); I was glad that I didn't. Jimmy was badly disfigured from the accident, but it was clear that it was him.
The rest of the day we spent making arrangements for his cremation (according to his will) and to have his ashes made into a diamond as a keepsake for Charlene, and making preliminary arrangements for his end-of-life celebration service, also according to his will. I made sure that Charlene ate appropriately during the day, put her down for a one hour nap while I made some of the arrangements, and we both fielded phone and house calls from Jimmy's many friends and well-wishers.
While Charlene was napping I called Jean Walters, Jimmy's Mom.
"Jean, this is Brad. I need to talk to you about Jimmy's service..." I got out before she snidely said "We're his family, we're going to arrange the service."
"Jean - get this the fuck straight," I screamed into the phone. "Charlene and I are in charge pursuant to his will, not you pack of assholes. I am calling to give you the courtesy of telling you when and where the service will be. You have nothing to say about it. You and your pack of jackals will be respectful when you come or you will be thrown out; I will have security there. Do I make myself clear?"
The phone was silent for a few seconds. Having just watched one son knocked unconscious and the other one have his arm broken, she apparently didn't feel like fucking with me. "OK - I understand," she replied in the meekest tone that I had ever heard her use.
I told her when and where, said that one member of the family could speak if they wanted to, but that there better not be any acrimony towards anyone in the talk. Unbelievably she thanked me and said that she would deliver a small speech "If that's OK with you and Charlene."
I told her it would be, and told her that I'd email her a draft agenda, got her email address, and signed off.
I tried calling Melissa twice, with no success, but I left her detailed messages. Of course as I promised Tom I checked in with Jason every morning, and everything was running smoothly.
While Charlene did well during the day, about 10 p. m. she lost it. After I comforted her for about an hour she again asked me to sleep with her. We followed the same procedure as the night before, and I again chastised myself for getting a peek at her naked body just before she came to bed.
Again we were out like lights, both emotionally and physically drained. Again I had that feeling of protectiveness toward Charlene wash over me just before I fell asleep.
That night didn't turn out like the last one, however.
I awoke in the middle of the night, to a very pleasurable dream - that wasn't. A low light was on next to the bed, and when I looked down toward where the pleasure was emanating from I saw a naked Charlene sucking my cock and fondling my balls. I was in a trance and mumbled something intelligent like "Charlene - what are you doing?" which resulted in her deep-throating me.
Because of the low light and her position I got a good look at her tits. If my cock hadn't already been steel hard it was after that look; plus the look in her eyes was the most empathetic and loving that I had ever seen in my life. Before she got me off she stopped, shinnied up to me, and with tears starting to form in her eyes said "Brad, I need so desperately to be loved. I'm sinking and can't cope with my feelings. Please make love to me!"
With that she rolled onto her back and spread her legs.
I had no conscious thought - just reaction - as I discarded my T-shirt and completed the elimination of my half-removed boxers. The look that she gave me when I rolled on top of her and entered her was precious. "Please be gentle," she mumbled, "take good care of me."
I tried to be gentle, but wasn't entirely successful. Her oral work on my cock, plus a sudden surge of lust when viewing her exquisite naked body, had made me primeval. Her pussy was wet and snug - in fact oh so tight. Her reaction to my movements indicated complete and total submission - she had put herself completely under my control, a feeling so different than my feelings during sex with Melissa that it was an entirely altered experience.
When I came like a freight train in her welcoming pussy she came hard right along with me, her pussy clamping like a vice on my spurting male member.
As we lay side-by-side a feeling of euphoria like I had never felt before washed over me; it was like I had just saved the world from demons, when in reality I had cheated on Melissa for the first time ever. The realization of my adultery was only fleeting, however, when with a tear in her eye Charlene gently stroked the side of my face and murmured "Thank you Brad, you have no idea how badly I needed that. Please don't have any guilt or feel badly toward me; and please, do anything you want to me. I'm yours to do with as you please."
That little speech almost knocked my socks off. She then buried her face in my shoulder - but for the first time that I could remember I immediately got hard again. Reacting, not thinking, but taking her at her word, I lifted her into a position on her hands and knees, and then entered her doggy style. After a good five minutes of methodical, loving reciprocations in her pussy, during which she climaxed at least once, I started pounding, and we had another set of over-the-top mutual debilitating orgasms.
The next thing I knew it was morning, and Charlene was halfway to getting me to ejaculate in her mouth as she diligently worked on my cock and balls. After she finished me off, she snuggled me for a few minutes, and then got me up and into the shower with her, where I was able to get a perfect look at her consummate body.
My mind was in turmoil that day. I finally got ahold of Melissa, and hoped that I didn't sound too guilty. She had a strange lilt to her voice when I talked to her, something that I couldn't place, although she seemed unusually lovey-dovey.
After Charlene and I worked most of the morning making arrangements for the service, contacting Jimmy's life insurance companies, and receiving well-wishers, it was apparent that she was exhausted and needed a nap. As she turned to walk toward her bedroom she kissed me lightly on the lips and reiterated what she had said the night before - or was it earlier that morning? "I'm yours to use as you please."
I followed her to her bedroom, helped her undress, and then fucked her in the missionary position, something rarely done with in-control Melissa. Actually, I need to correct that; I didn't fuck her; I made love to her.
**************
I invited Melissa to the service - but she begged off; "too busy!"
Fortuitously both Roland and Judy were off duty the day of Jimmy's service, so I hired them to be security there. "Hired" turned out not to be the correct word, because they both refused the compensation I tried to give them, although I did give double that amount to the police boys and girls club in their names.
The Walters - Billy with his arm in a cast, and Bobby with sunglasses on due the remnants of his concussion - behaved themselves. In fact Jean's short speech at the service was the least mean that I had ever heard her speak. The place was packed because virtually everyone who knew Jimmy loved him.
Charlene did not do well. She was essentially a basket case the entire time, mumbling to herself "I loved you so much, Jimmy."
During the reception, Charlene rallied and was able to talk almost normally with all of the well-wishers. Even the Walters were nice to her. I promised Jean to talk with her in a few days and show her Jimmy's will - and she actually thanked me and acted like a normal human being.
When Charlene and I got home from the service we collapsed into bed, then did what we had been doing the last four days, at least twice a day. We made love. I stayed around two more days to make sure that everything was in order. The last night before I left Charlene got very serious.
"Brad; I feel so bad for seducing you - for making you cheat on Melissa. It was only my total enveloping grief - and selfishness - that made me do it. Please don't think ill of me; I promise to leave you alone. However, I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that I loved every second of it. I was more fulfilled than at any other time in my life, even with Jimmy. You did a great job of pretending to love me and Jimmy was right that you'd take good care of me. I'll be strong now, and not cry again."
I made eye contact with her for at least a full minute. Then I simply said "I wasn't pretending," and proceeded to make love to her again. Then in the middle of the night I energetically fucked her twice, once with her arms tied to the bedposts, a fantasy of mine that in-control Melissa would never condescend to; and then made love to her again in the morning just before I left.
The look of combined gratefulness, longing, and coquettishness that she gave me as I exited her door and turned back to look at her was burned into my brain.
*************
As I drove to the airport, and then flew home, I had a real guilt problem. I had cheated - but more than that, I had fallen in love. Charlene's total and complete acquiescence, her loving passion, and the fact that our sexual parts seem molded for each other, resulted in by far the most satisfying - both emotionally and physically - sexual encounters of my life. Plus the protectiveness that I felt toward her was the most gratifying non-sexual feeling that I had ever experienced.
I didn't know exactly what I was going to do, but I felt that I had to tell Melissa, and let the chips fall where they may. I was a little bit peeved that she couldn't come pick me up at the airport, but that turned out to be OK because on the cab ride home and the hour that I waited before she got there allowed me to crystalize my thoughts.
When Melissa got home she greeted me warmly, though a little hesitantly. Here first comment after our kiss didn't sit well with me. "So how's the little wimp doing?"
I controlled myself so that I didn't go off on her - however she could see the molten anger behind my eyes. "Charlene is not a wimp - she's just a dependent person who misses Jimmy terribly, and she's doing as well as can be expected," I replied.
"Oh...well...I hope that you were able to help her out," Melissa responded, trying to make up for her insensitive comment.
I told Melissa about the service, and some other details - but not about making love to Charlene almost two dozen times; that would come later. When there was a lull I said "Let's sit in the living room a minute."
I could see apprehension in Melissa's eyes - I wasn't sure exactly why because I didn't think that I had sounded ominous. I had decided to start off by saying "There were some eye-opening things that I learned during my visit," and then go on to tell her, as gently and dispassionately as I could, about how I enjoyed having to be a protector, Charlene's dependence on me, and ultimately admit to having sex with her and see where Melissa and I would go on from there. As it turned out my choice of opening words resulted in an entirely different and unexpected conversation.
After we sat down when I slowly said with a grimace on my face "There were some eye-opening things that I learned during my visit," I didn't get a chance to say anything more before she anxiously blurted out "What did someone tell you? It's not true!"
Though I was taken aback by this, for some reason my mind suddenly got clarity - and helped by what I'm sure was either a blank look or profound expression on my face after a few seconds delay without prompting she nervously continued "I did not have sex with John Peters."
"Why ever would I think that my loving wife would have sex with John Peters while I was attending my dead best friend's service?" I asked, my question dripping with sarcasm.
"Uh...well...the asshole threatened to call you and tell you that when I wouldn't play ball with him; he even had your cell phone number," she blurted out, wringing her hands, which looked like they had disturbingly sweaty palms.
"So pictures lie then?" I snidely replied.
For one of the few times in our relationship Melissa seemed to be at a loss for words. She covered her face with her hands, and her breathing got shallow and noisy. When she uncovered her face she was red.
"Look - I know a lot," I sternly said, although I had no fucking idea about anything at that point, I was just leading her down the primrose path. "The only chance is for you to come completely clean - and now."
"Uh...there's...uh...nothing to...tell," she stammered.
"OK - have it your way, as soon as I do my laundry I'll repack my bag," I bluffed, standing up and starting to walk out of the room.
"No...no...no...wait," she stuttered, grabbing my arm. "Sit; please; I'll come clean."
I sat down, the irony of the situation where I was planning on telling her that I had cheated and now was likely to hear that she had was causing turmoil in my brain.
"Uh...you've got to know form the start that I love you implicitly. I know sometimes it seems that I put myself and my job first..."
"Sometimes?" I laughed to myself, but didn't say. I let her continue.
"I really do love you. I can't explain how it happened but I went out with some guys from my office the day after you left, and had too much to drink. I woke up in John Peters' bed the next morning. I...I...can't explain why I stayed with him the rest of the day and that night too, I guess it was because you were gone and I figured that if I had sinned once another couple of times wouldn't make any difference."
Yes, she really did say that - although I'm not one to talk, am I? Then she continued, wringing her hands and looking like she wanted to cry.
"Anyway, after the second night when I wanted to go home he got belligerent and said that he'd call you and tell you that I was a slut for him, and showed me your cellphone number - which he must have gotten from my phone when I was asleep. At that point I told him to go screw himself, and left...I didn't think that he'd really tell you because he knows how big and tough you are," she said before she covered her face again.
I sat there stunned. I had great difficulty processing this information. I certainly wasn't going to confess now, but by the same token I wasn't so big of a shit that I was going to beat on her for what she had done. After a minute delay when she pleaded "Say something..." I finally responded.
"Is that the only time you've ever cheated on me?"
After a significant delay and a troubled expression on her face she said "Yes." In view of the delay and the look on her face, however, there was no doubt that the real answer was "No!"
"I think that we should get something to eat - Charley's again if you like - and revisit things tomorrow," I said as I stood and offered her my hand.
Her relief was evident as she sighed and shivered as she stood up; in fact I do believe that I noticed a single tear in her otherwise always stoic face.
We both made every effort to act normal during our meal, and basically succeeded. When we got home Melissa was unusually amorous, so as soon as our food digested we took it to bed. I tried to fuck her missionary, but she did her typical control thing and got on top. While I could have outwrestled her (ha, ha) and dominated her, that wasn't my intention. I was trying to see if I could repeat the euphoria I felt with Charlene with Melissa.
In the end we had two very physically satisfying fucks before we fell asleep. However, the first one was almost bankrupt emotionally, and the second about half as emotionally satisfying as my love-making sessions with Charlene.
The next night Melissa was poised to continue our discussion, but I put it off for several reasons. I wanted clarity of mind before I could talk with her again. I had a real internal conflict about what I was going to do next. One thing was clear, however - I was going to make John Peters pay.
Sure it was at least partially hypocritical of me to want to beat the shit out of him; sure it was cave man of me, and potentially risky; sure I should have been more sanguine toward him especially since his reaction towards Melissa was what got the confession out of her. But we are what we are, and you don't grow up and compete in athletics and business - and love - the way I did and simply forgive a transgression like Peters'.
After making sure that the video system in my construction trailer would provide me with an alibi by showing Tuesday's video as Thursday's, and after getting information about Peters' health club schedule that had him working out Thursday at noon by skipping lunch, I paid him a visit, complete with facial and clothing disguises. Of course I couldn't disguise the fact that I was six three, 225, but I was confident that my construction trailer video would alibi me even if he did suspect that it was me. I took pity on him when he cowered, and only dislocated his right shoulder rather than breaking his arm at the elbow, which was my original plan. There was recognition in his eyes when I growled "You know what this is for, fornicator!"
************
The cops never approached me, but Melissa did Friday night after work. At first she was trying to act nonchalant, but I could tell she was seething under the surface.
"Guess who showed up at work today with his right arm in a sling?" she casually asked as we were eating Chinese carryout.
Between bites of Kung Pao chicken I just as casually replied "I haven't a clue - who?"
"John Peters," she retorted, again trying to be cool.
"Really? What happened to him? Did some husband of a woman he was fucking hurt him?" I responded without making eye contact and immediately followed up with "Could you pass me some more beef fried rice please."
"Probably," she snickered as she passed the rice, her cool starting to break. "You know what he told me? He swore that he didn't call you and tell you about our sexual encounter, and he swore that he had no photos," she continued as her cool starting to unravel.
"I never said he did tell me, or that he had photos," I replied.
"Then how did you find out?" she snapped.
"You told me," I replied, starting to really enjoy her angst.
"But you said that you got some interesting information in your visit to your home town for Jimmy's funeral..." she spat, after throwing down her chop sticks.
"I did - I found out that I really liked protecting Charlene from those around her that were trying to screw her, and wondered if I could get the same feeling of protectiveness toward you. Your guilty conscience provided the impetus for your reaction, and once I thought I knew what you were saying, I played along. Good acting performance by me, huh?" I rhetorically asked with a grin on my face impossible to suppress.
For only the second time that I knew her, Melissa started to cry, turned her plate over, and stormed out of the kitchen.
"I guess no sex tonight," I chuckled to myself as I finished the Kung Pao - it was really good.
That weekend was frosty at home. I paid a visit to Tom, the owner of the construction company I worked for, and had two hour long phone chats with Charlene. Sunday evening my plans were clear.
I realized that Melissa kind of loved me, but other things were really significantly more important to her than me or our marriage. I further realized that her capacity for love wasn't large; miniscule compared to Charlene's. I still further realized that Charlene already probably loved me more than Melissa did, and that my relationship with Charlene could turn into one for the ages. I still, further, further realized that sex with Charlene was infinitely more emotionally rewarding than with Melissa, and on a par physically, and that how Charlene made me feel couldn't be duplicated.
