Charlie's Shoes

"I'm headed to the pool, I need a Mimosa and some sunshine; are you coming?"

"I'll be down in fifteen minutes; I need some time in the john."

"Don't be long; you could use some color, paleface."

Ginny turned and walked out the door. Twenty minutes later I was down at the pool looking for her; it didn't take long to find her - she was the one down at the far end with three college age frat types standing around her lounger. I walked up to the crowd and got my first surprise. There was Ginny - topless - but more than that, her bikini bottom wasn't much more than a g-string, thin enough to make out her camel-toe. The boys scattered when I showed up.

"Crap, Ginny. Think you're exposing enough?"

Ginny gave me an evil smile before replying, "No one complained; everyone seemed to be having a good time." She was acting a little drunk already. The drink in her hand was almost gone.

I pointed to her drink. How many have you had?"

"This is my second. The Mimosa went down fast and the guys brought me this. I don't know what's in it, but it's yummy."

I took it from her and had a sip. It was almost pure alcohol.

"They were trying to get you drunk."

Ginny gave me that smile again. "I think they succeeded. C'mon, sit down and keep me company. Save me from those bad boys." As Ginny said this, she looked over at the three guys standing at the over side of the pool and gave them a smile and a wave. It wasn't the first time, or the last time, I realized I could either live with Ginny's flirting or live without Ginny - flirting was in her DNA.

After the honeymoon week in Vegas, we came home and settled into a nice routine. Sex, sex and more sex; I've never been more sexually sated in my life. The woman knew how to fuck. And she knew how to get my motor running. We'd be out on the town or down at the country club where Ginny would taunt men constantly. Afterwards, I'd take Ginny home and try to fuck her into oblivion; making her understand she belonged with no one but me.

Sometimes the flirting would piss me off and when I brought it up to her, Ginny reminded me it was just how she was.

"I used to flirt with you when I was married to Henry and you never seemed to mind. And let me remind you; it never went anywhere. I'm a one-man-woman, Dwayne - and you're my one man."

It was hard to argue with her logic; so, I let things slide.

Two months after the wedding Ginny asked if she could go into Dallas for a weekend to spend time with her girlfriends; shopping therapy. A couple of her girlfriends had been out to the house and they seemed like nice people. Besides, Dad had been after me to head up to a farm in Nebraska to chase some roosters. He'd been training a new bird dog and wanted to see what she'd do. So, I told Ginny, "Yea, go have fun."

Ginny went to Dallas; Dad and I climbed into his Cessna Skyhawk and flew north. We had a great weekend; the Springer did her job; both Saturday and Sunday morning the owner released ten birds, the Springer flushed all but one and retrieved every one of the birds we shot.

Ginny came home on Sunday to find me at the grill ready to barbecue a few of the pheasant breasts I brought back. We ate, talked about our weekend and the welcome home sex was fantastic. After that weekend, Ginny asked to visit her friends about once a month. I didn't mind because I spent those weekends hunting or fishing. Every time she came home, she'd be hotter than a flame to get in my pants and "get what I need", as she put it.

Boy, it turns out it was me who was oblivious. One afternoon, a few days after one of Ginny's weekends, I came home for lunch and instead of a sandwich, I decided I needed a nooner. Ginny was sunbathing out by the pool, getting an all-over tan. I turned her on her belly and started to rub my naked cock between her ass cheeks. Ginny moaned and rose up onto her hands and knees on the sun lounger.

My cock was hard and Ginny was wet, it only took a few strokes to be completely embedded in her soft glove. With my hands squeezing her ass cheeks, I pumped in and out, adjusting my tempo; fast, slow, hard, soft. This is Ginny's favorite way to get fucked; it rarely fails to get her off. And every few weeks or so, she'll tell me to fuck her ass when we're doing it this way. Not this time, though. This time we fucked until I felt her orgasm, then I let go, filling her with my seed.

I collapsed on top of Ginny as she collapsed on the lounger. I was catching my breath, trying not to put too much weight on her back as my cock started to go soft. I moved her long blonde hair away from her neck to give her a kiss back there when I saw it just below the hair line.

What the fuck?

Ginny obviously didn't know it was back there, she can get quite out-of-control when she's getting taken in the ass. I might have even missed it if we weren't in the bright sunshine; but there was no mistaking the hickey/love bite on the back of her neck. My cock shrank so fast, it fell right out of her. I got up off Ginny and fell back into the pool. The coolness of the pool water gave me time to think.

I climbed out of the pool and told Ginny I needed to head back to the office to meet with a customer. Rinsed off in the master shower, got dressed and headed into town.

Once at my desk, I stopped to think, maybe for the first time concerning my marriage and relationship with Ginny. Sure, the sex was out of this world and it was fantastic to have such a beautiful woman for my own. (Wait - did I just think, "for my own"? It was apparent now I was sharing her with someone else, but who?) As I reviewed it all, I came to realize we had so little in common.

Books? Ginny didn't read anything but fashion and personality magazines. TV? She watched reality shows that I couldn't stand and I had to leave the room. Outdoors? Ginny's idea of roughing it was running out of ice for her drink. Music? Nope. It went on and on, down the list. One thing Ginny and I did have in common, we both loved Ginny.

I picked up the pone and called Ed Johnson, the detective agency we used for investigations and personnel vetting. Ed and I discussed the situation and agreed on a plan. He also advised me to contact our attorney to start working on protecting my financial interests.

I knew I couldn't fake it for three or four weeks until Ginny's next trip to Dallas. So, after we made love that night, I made up a story about another hunting trip with Dad and told Ginny she might as well take the opportunity to get some shopping in. Ginny jumped at the chance.

That weekend, Dad and I hung out on the ranch, Ginny went to Dallas. It was a long weekend and not necessarily a sober one.

Late Monday morning, Ed was sitting in my office.

"Dwayne, do you know a friend of Ginny's by the name of Janet Kelly?"

"No, doesn't ring a bell. She's not one of the women who has been by the house. Why?"

"That's who Ginny stayed with this weekend. She's a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader and a stone fox, kinda in Ginny's league. The two of them went out Friday night dressed to kill. It was a bitch following them when they left Janet's condo; Uber has really made it tough to tail a mark. That's why we had to use three operatives and why it cost you a bundle. Sorry."

"C'mon Ed. I know you're stalling. I'm not going to break down and cry on your shoulder. What'd ya find?"

"The two of them hit a club. Drank, danced and in general, acted like a couple of single women on the make. They picked up two guys and spent the night at the girlfriend's condo. We watched the condo and the guys didn't leave until eight the next morning. Unfortunately, there's no proof that your wife did anything that night; it would be circumstantial. That's why we had to follow them again Saturday."

"We lucked out Saturday. Sorry, that came out wrong." Ed looked sheepish as he apologized.

"There's no way to say this easy; your wife is a slut. I had a husband and wife team with me and it was a lucky thing. Ginny and her friend went to a sex club. My team were able to get in because they were a couple. They personally witnessed Ginny fucking three other men, once two at a time taking it in the ass and cunt simultaneously. They're certain she fucked others; but couldn't witness it all without being obvious."

"Did they get photos?"

"No, these places are strict. There's no way to get any kind of camera in the back rooms where the sex takes place. I have photos of her entering and exiting; but nothing from inside. My people will sign affidavits as to what they witnessed. They've already written their reports and they'll testify in court, which should be good enough for any judgement."

Ed and I finished up our business and I kept my promise; I didn't cry on Ed's shoulder. A couple tears probably formed in my eyes after he left; but the news wasn't unexpected. Ever since I saw that damn hickey, I knew something was going on, although the sex club was a surprise. I figured she had a boyfriend in Dallas, not that she was trying to fuck everyone in the city.

I called up my attorney and had her finish up the paperwork and get it all recorded. Then a thought hit me like a ton of bricks; I called Ed.

"Hey Ed; did Ginny use condoms at the club?"

"Yea; that's another thing this place is a stickler about, no sex without protection."

"Thanks Ed."

I hung up the phone. Well, that was a relief, although it didn't guarantee she used them Friday night or any other of the previous weekends. I made a note to get myself tested.

At first, Ginny cried and pleaded when I had her served; but when I told her she was followed into the sex club, all she could say was, "Oh, fuck". She quit calling after that revelation.

The divorce went better than expected. Ginny brought in some fancy-pants lawyer from Dallas. My attorney ripped him a new asshole in court. It didn't help Ginny's case to be caught going in and out of a sex club within a year of our wedding and the testimony of the two investigators. Didn't help her that my grandfather was no fool; the ranch and the bank stock were untouchable. And it didn't help that we filed in our county; we had home field advantage. Karen Davis, my attorney, didn't do anything unethical; but she certainly knew how to play her hand to its best advantage. I ended up paying Ginny thirty-grand and she had to pay her own attorney costs. She kept her house, the one Henry left her when he walked out.

**********************

I left the courthouse and looked around; it was a bright Texas morning, the sunshine lit up the white courthouse, on either side of the steps were flowers planted by the Ladies' Committee to Beautify Fort Travis. Across the street were more flowers around the two flag poles that stand in the middle of the square. The town didn't fly the Stars and Bars anymore; of course there was a big to-do when the council voted on that; more than a few men from Fort Travis fought, and half of those died, for the Confederacy. The noise quieted down when Jake Olsen proposed replacing the Confederate flag with a MIA-POW flag. Three boys from this county died in Vietnam and there's still raw feelings; you can't say "McNamara" without having someone spit on the ground.

As I stood on the steps breathing in the fresh air, things began to focus. The short marriage and quickie divorce caused me to re-evaluate my life. Let's see - I didn't like my job, hated working in an office, I didn't like living in a modern mega-mansion. I liked being outdoors. I found out that getting fucked by a sex-machine was a lot of fun; but it didn't compare to the emotional love-making I previously shared with Sally.

I knew if I ever married again, it would be to a woman who could also be my best friend. Someone who might consider camping, hunting, and fishing with me (not every time - a man needs a little guy-time now and then) and this person should still be happy to dress like a lady when the occasion arises.

In other words, a woman like the one I dumped to marry Ginny, a woman like Sally.

I set out to get my life squared away; one thing at a time. First, Dad and I spent time talked over the job situation. Dad surprised the hell out of me with his reply to my suggestion that maybe banking wasn't my best career choice.

"Damn boy; it's about time you figured this out. I can't believe you took so long. You don't belong in an office. Got any plans?"

"Dad, Miguel retires in a few years. What would you say if I spent those years working on the ranch and taking over as foreman when Miguel retires?"

"Now you're reading my mind. We thought Jason was set to replace Miguel. Last month he told us he wasn't comfortable in the position, he didn't think he had the people skills, and he's probably right. It would be great if you came on board at the ranch, spent the next few years getting up to speed, then taking Miguel's place when it's time."

"One more thing, Dad. I thought I'd fix up Granddad's hunting cabin down on the lake. Make it less of a cabin and more of a home. Would that be OK?"

Dad was smiling. "More than OK - consider it yours to do what you will."

Two weeks later I started the next phase of my life. I was twenty-nine and never happier. I did every dirty job on the ranch; it wasn't as if I hadn't spent time during the summers working there, but this was different, now I was paying close attention to details because one day, it would be my responsibility.

Miguel was fantastic; he worked on the ranch for thirty years, working his way up to foreman. He and his wife Juanita were looking forward to spending time traveling when he retired. Their children and grandchildren lived in California, and that's where they wanted to spend their days. He was as anxious to teach me as I was to learn.

During the first six months, I spent all my free time repairing and updating the old hunting cabin. It was a log house and the logs were in decent shape, but I hired an outfit to sandblast the exterior before I put a coat of stain on them and re-chinked between the logs (what a lousy, labor-intensive job). The interior needed a lot of work. The house had sat idol for too long and needed to be rid of mice and insects before I could even set foot inside. I updated the kitchen and appliances, hung new doors and replaced the windows with modern double-panes that actually opened and had screens.

Once the place was fixed up, I had an open house for a few friends and my family. Most everybody ooh'd and aah'd; especially anyone who had been inside when it was Granddad's hunting cabin. It was my mother who asked the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

"Now that you have this place put together; how are you going to spend your free time? Not bar-hopping again, I hope."

"Didn't give it much thought, Mom. I'm guessing you have an idea, since you're bringing it up."

"You know some of the ladies at church are working on a housing project. Come and visit the next time we have a meeting. We have a few projects someone like yourself may be interested in helping."

That's how I eventually became peripherally involved in her church's charity endeavor. I'll tell you more about this later.

I stopped by Sally's parents' house one day during that first year. Sally was still working down in Austin for the governor. I brought her mother a nice bouquet of flowers and her father a bottle of Angel Envy Rye. I figured a hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey might get me past the front door. He invited me in, poured us each a couple fingers of the liquid gold, then he proceeded to do what he always did - give me a piece of his mind.

"I know your daddy and he's a good man, a man you can trust with just a hand-shake. Most of your life, I thought you had your daddy's ways. Sally said you didn't cheat on her, broke it off before you got with that whore. That's something in your favor, I guess.

"But you made my baby cry. Every man gets one pass in life to be stupid. I won't stand in your way if it's what Sally wants; but let me warn you. If you make my baby cry a second time, I'll hunt you down and hurt your ass.

"Can you live with that?"

I said I could. We sat for another half hour shooting the shit. We made plans to get some fishing in together. I invited him to join Dad and me next time we went to Nebraska, When I left it was with the intention of giving Sally a call and reconnecting.

Sally was nice enough to take my call; and pleased me when she accepted my invitation to have dinner. We ate at a place around the corner from her apartment in Austin, I think she picked the place to avoid me having to pick her up from her door. We met at the restaurant; I couldn't have been more nervous if I was holding a bag of rattlers.

Dinner was nice; Sally was friendly; but turned down my request to start dating again. She tried to soften it by making the excuse that the distance between us would make it difficult; but I could tell she was still hurt by my previous actions. I walked Sally home, got a peck on the cheek goodbye, and drove home to an empty cabin.

I was wired from the coffee and the drive; so, I sat on the porch with a nightcap and looked up at the million stars of that bright night. Things hadn't gone as planned; but I vowed not to get fucked up again. I'd take my disappointment like an adult.

**********************

I didn't date much, just didn't have any interest. I also didn't have any sex for over a year after my divorce. It wasn't easy; talk about going from sexual ecstasy (fucking Ginny) to nothing (except the occasional self-abuse) - it sucked.

No, no sex until I saw Rosie one night at The Hen.

At one time Rosie had been quite the wild child; she had a reputation for being easy - not "gang-bang/take-on-all-comers" easy, just the kind of girl that didn't wait for the third date before she was in the back seat. I never had the pleasure back then, she was too young for me. Rosie went to college and came back a different woman. Worked at the credit union in the Finance Department.

Rosie and I were chatting at the bar. I must have had too many beers because I spilled my guts about losing Sally, what I was looking for in a wife and how I was trying to keep it in my pants until I found the right woman, the woman who would hunt, fish and camp with me.

Rosie must have had a few too many Cosmos. "Well, that's not me Dwayne. I get upset when I chip a nail. But I'll tell you something; I haven't gotten laid in a year and my quim is missing it. Tell you what, let's talk tomorrow when we're both sober; I have a proposition for you."

That's how Rosie became my 'friends with benefits' partner.

You could call the sex with Rosie 'lovemaking', except neither of us shared the word 'love' with each other. It was almost always in the missionary position, nothing kinky, just the tender release we both needed from time to time. We got together two or three times a month during those eight months. Both of us had our reasons for discretion and keeping the arrangement hidden from prying eyes. We'd say 'hello' in public; but didn't date and she never stayed overnight.

Rosie Cruz has a beautiful face and an exceptional body; smiling eyes, dark brown hair, ample breasts, womanly hips tapering in to a slim waist; skin that was dark and flawless. Although, one should hesitate before referring to her as a "Mexican Beauty".

The only time Rosie got into trouble at school was in the fifth grade when some dumb-shit sixth grader called Rosie a wetback and she should go back to Mexico. After Rosie knocked the boy onto his back with a punch to the nose, she straddled his waist, and while slapping his face, explained that her great-great-great grandfather fought with Sam Houston at the Battle of Jacinto and his son rode with Captain John Coffee Hays; and that her daddy was a sergeant in the Texas Rangers. Rosie's heritage history lesson was interrupted by the lunchroom monitor pulling her off the boy and marching her down to the principal's office.