Chili in Church

"By the way, super good lie, you had me totally believing you about your so called menopause. All those damned doctors appointments. I mean it's not like I was going to check out your panties to check for your period. Then I got the damn medical STD report that says you're still bleeding just like fucking clockwork, and that report was just two months ago. What a stupid asshole I turned out to be. I believed every single word that came out of your dirty cocksucking mouth. How stupid could I be? Live and learn. I hate myself for loving you. Now get the fuck out of here, I'm tired and I have to sleep." I locked the door behind her. I thought I heard her weep. I did not care right then. She had burned that bridge completely.

I felt a small measure of satisfaction that I had finally confronted the bitch, but as I said, it was a bit daunting as I still loved the cheater. Yes,as crazy as it sounds, I still loved the bitch, despite all the pain and anguish she had put me though. The idea of a pyrrhic victory crossed my mind, and not for the first time either. Wow, the first argument that I had ever really won hands down, but it comes with the certain destruction of my defunct marriage! But what the fuck, I had been living a total lie for years and years, I just did not know it then because of my blind trust. I had given my utter and complete trust to a woman who was just... A liar? A slut? A whore? A cheater? All of the above? I was just a dumb-assed cuckold, and I took my vows seriously that she had thought were very quaint suggestions, not rules for marriage. Serves me right for not seeing what was right in front of my face.

I had been so damned stupid and trusting. Never again. But what did it matter? I was beyond hope as far as marriage was concerned. I would never be getting married again...PERIOD.

~~~~~~~

My trip had been a sort of success. I would be selling my business and moving away. I had found a small condo with three big bedrooms, so my kids could visit me. They had not done so for many years and I harbored no illusions that they would. But you never know. Miracles do happen. Hey, it had a great big pool and hot tub! They might come visit me for the swimming.

I was happy that it had a good size gas stove, so I could make my chili creations. I made chili at least once a week. I took it to my business, and they all wanted to know where I bought it! I don't think they believed me that I cooked it. My secretary Linda loved my chili. Lately she had been giving me looks that said she might love me as well, but she was aware of my stance on marriage and vows. Linda's quite a looker as well. She was a tall busty brunette with big brown eyes and D cup tits. Her legs were long and shapely as well. But I was very married. At least for a while. I would have to rethink my relationship with my pretty secretary. After all, she had been nothing but caring and supportive to me. She has been giving me these long lingering looks lately too. Perhaps it was time to see what those long looks meant.

~~~~~~~~

I spoke with the lawyer. I told him what I wanted, gave him the evidence and turned him loose. He would handle it. I paid the man a small fortune for his expertise, so I knew he would take care of it.

I had taken care of the banking, splitting all the bank balances. Once the house and business were sold we could settle all our accounts. Although she was a cheater and a slut, she had given me beautiful babies and many good years of marriage, so I would just split everything down the middle with her. I wanted to be fair. More fair than she had been to me...

I returned to the house. It was not a home for me anymore. It was the night before the chili cook-off. I don't know why I even bothered, I never won.

I slept terribly, the thoughts racing through my head. The visions of my perfect wife and her various lovers. Why didn't she ever tell me? Why didn't she just divorce me, and set me free to find a real wife, someone who loved me properly, and me only? My nightmares cut short my slumber to the point that I said fuck this, and I just showered and dressed for work. I took my workout clothes, and my chili apron and cooking clothes with me to the car. All my tools and utensils were in the trunk and I was going to win this year or die trying!

Actually, I would like to point out that every time I entered the church cook-off I had won, sort of. Other chili enthusiasts would cook a big pot of chili and throw it in the slow cooker and that was it. I had always loved making good chili, and I made four huge pots of the stuff. One was mild for the kids, and people who don't want to burn their palates with ultra hot chili. One pot was Texas chili, nice and hot and spicy, no beans included. The third pot was black bean chili, sort of a medium heat and always a crowd favorite, and my favorite chili in the last pot, super rustic, with big chunks and made with three beans, this was the chili I entered into the contest. Why did I feel that I always won, even though first place always eluded me? I never brought any chili home. Some years I didn't even get a single bowl of my own chili. I printed out my easy recipes for each of the pots on several hundred 3 x 5 index cards, free for the taking. All would be gone, taken with every drop of chili. One little boy, maybe a ten year old gave me the ultimate compliment. He was scraping the last of my Texas chili into a bowl and he looked at me and said, "My mom and dad only come here to eat your chili. I want to learn how to make it as good as you do. You going to have chili classes?" When I heard that I almost cried. That little bit of encouragement lasted for years.

How come I never won? People are in families, and if someone, like your Gramma is in the contest, well you are bound by those family ties to vote for her. I only had my little family, and my wife had always been elsewhere in the preceding ten years of chili cook-offs. No one votes for themselves, that's just not right. So there have been years when I had not been given a single vote, but empty pots meant that SOMEONE had enjoyed it. The winner had two full Tupperware containers going home, and she had only made one small batch of chili. She even had a small container of rustic chili going home (mine) and she told me she loved my chili! I had made four huge pots, and it was all gone. I never thought I'd actually win, not with all the huge families from church.

By the way, last year's winner, Mrs. Babcock, had seventeen family members who ALL invited me to their homes, as long as I brought the chili! I did love Mrs. Babcock, the woman was about sixty years old and nice as could be. She had been flirting with me the whole night, pushing her mammoth size boobs into my back to reach around and help me serve chili to everyone. She had a pretty good ass too, for a sixty year old! She was the very definition of voluptuous. More than once she accidentally ran her hand down my crotch to check out my equipment! She invited me to her home at least ten times, ostensibly to watch me make my black bean chili. I liked her a lot. She was lonely since her husband had passed last year. When I become free to do whatever I want, maybe I will go over one of these days, because the woman is so nice and kind. I think she wanted to push those whopper size tits into my hands or mouth! That would be interesting. She was incredibly sexy and nice to me, age be damned.

This year, what with my upcoming divorce, my heart wasn't even in it. Why bother? Bust my ass for a bunch of ... Well actually they were very good folks, they were just honor bound by family ties. I do really understand. It would be nice to win just once, but I always had a nice time with all the folks who turned out. I had even helped out my competition on several occasions, when they needed a sous-chef to get things done, or forgot the meat one time. I ran into the store and got whatever they needed and even helped them cook it! I had resigned myself to never winning the church chili cook off. During the summer, I had won at the county fair in Springfield, Illinois and then I won again at Dallas Texas. I did great up in the Green Bay chili contest, as I won both first and second in the blind taste tests. That was very rewarding. Blind tasting meant no favouritism. I had won over several hundred competitors, but did I win my church cook off? Forget it. It is what it is. I still had a good time. I had not brought home a single spoonful of chili in four or five years! THAT meant something to me!

I had just finished my four pots of chili and I told the pastor this was my last time. I was divorcing and moving away, and I was just not up for not winning again. Too many years of doing your best and getting shot down kinda made me a bit unhappy. I did like the vast majority of folks that thanked me profusely for the great chili and recipe cards. That alone kept me coming back every year.

It did take my mind off my divorce. All of a sudden, I had four beautiful young women I knew in church asking me when my divorce would be final... So they could go out with me! That shocked the hell out of me! When did I get popular? How did they know about my divorce? I guess bad news travels fast. Like lightning!

One girl was only twenty years old, and she did not care a whit what my age was. She had known me for a long time, and I had helped out her family in their time of need, when her father passed away. The insurance company took their sweet old time paying the absolutely legitimate claim against his life insurance policy. I couldn't get them to fork up the money, so I paid for the funeral expenses, and put food on their table until they received the compensation they so richly deserved. I could hardly believe it when both daughter and her mother BOTH wanted to "help me through my grief" in a way only women can for a man. I was shocked, but in a good way. They remembered me bringing food or money every single night until they were back on their feet. I did what I did out of compassion. No family deserves to be treated like they were. When they could pay me back they would, though I never asked for anything. They were good people, and I was determined to help them in their time of need.

Now they both saw what I was going through, and they were bound and determined to help me in any way they could.

They called and asked if I could help with a broken window. Of course I said I would be right over. When I arrived, both mother and daughter were in sexy, skimpy lingerie and they told me what they wanted to do. I was totally gobsmacked as they say. I had to explain that while I loved the idea of the two of them taking care of my very real needs, I wanted to remain faithful to my vows until the divorce was final. As I left, I asked them if they would give me a rain check for the wonderful plan of theirs. I will still be in pain, perhaps even worse than today on the day my marriage ends officially, so that will be my true time of need. Both hot women agreed to my plan. That was not too long ago. Now I was in church waiting for the happy parishioners to eat and vote on the chili.

Rev. Shoemaker was trying to get my attention.The pastor was looking for a volunteer for something. I was pretty sure he wanted me to do an unpleasant or difficult task. He was speaking in his pleading voice.

"John, I need your help. The local tv affiliate did a big human interest story on our little chili contest. They have something like 500 people that responded to come over for some chili and conversation. That's a lot of hungry folks! We decided we need at least fifteen extra pots of chili, and everyone said to talk to you." He hinted.

"And you need some idiot to make fifteen more pots of chili? Let me guess...me?"

"John, that would be wonderful. Mrs. Wambold and Mrs. Berkowitz are going to help you. Adam Frank said he would love to help with the chopping and stirring. I got everything that your recipe cards call for except we could not get the fancy Italian tomatoes." The Italian Roma tomatoes really set the chili apart from everyone else, but they were just looking at feeding the masses, not a victory in the competition. None of this chili would even be eligible as it was sponsored by the church itself. Of course I would help. I just hoped all the folks who did show up would have a good time. I would do my best to make them some good chili to eat.

"Let me get started, you got the onions and garlic?"

"And the five different kinds of peppers. Oh, and I got the scotch bonnet peppers too." he told me. Those had to be prepared separately because they were very hot indeed. I used rubber gloves and safety glasses so as not to get the juice in your eye by accident. It really burns if you do.

"Look, go back to the store and get these spices. Here is a hundred bucks. That should cover it. We need these spices quickly, ok like next 30 minutes. Go go go! I'll get started." I sent the Reverend on his way. He would probably dispatch one of the ladies, but that's ok, they knew what they were doing. I got on the cell phone.

"Hey Alma! The pastor got tv involved in the chili cook-off. He asked me to make fifteen more pots of chili... No, I'm on that, but I don't have any more slow cookers or chafing dishes to serve in... Could you call the girls and ask for help?.. Ask for prayers for me too, as I will need them...Good idea, but I had to send him to the store for more spices... I love you too Alma...God bless you too!" Alma was the best, and she was very good in the kitchen. Alma had been helping me for years, and she was sexy as hell. I knew that I could count on her.

As soon as I was off the phone, I was in the little church kitchen. It would hold four or five people, if they did not mind bumping.

I lit the fires on the gas stove and started searing the meat, breaking up the pieces to cook better. At the same time I was cutting and chopping onions and peppers. I moved the meat to the chili pot and in the fry pan went the onions, a couple of minutes I had them translucent and into the chili pot. I needed those spices and Alma came in just in time, and we were in business. The cook-off had started, we heard the invocation and welcome speeches, but we were in full chili cooking mode. We had less than forty-five minutes to make enough chili to feed five hundred people! We had to really work fast. I hoped I was up to the challenge.

"Mmmm, something smells good. John, what are you doing?" Betty Wambold loved my cooking. Or just that a man would cook for her! She was five-three and about a hundred and sixty pounds, but a big, huge percentage of that was in her fabulous fat tits. They were so big that they were in a constant battle with gravity, but by God they were standing high up tonight! Her nipples were very large and hard, commensurate with how big her jugs were. They were visible through bra and blouse! Very sexy, and magnetic to men's eyes. Especially my eyes! Her ass was gorgeous as well. And Betty was staring at me, expecting a reply.

"I'm so sorry, I was thinking about ahh, cutting the scotch bonnet peppers and the precautions. Sorry I zoned out." I said. She had a sly smile. She saw where my eyes were. Betty was posturing for me anyway!

She had made so many passes at me over the years. Perhaps I should return the favor this year? Why not?

"I was saying stop staring at my breasts!" Betty was grinning nonetheless. She was stirring one of the pots for me with the big paddle.

She backed into me and wiggled her ass in my crotch. Betty giggled like a school girl. I could not help but to have a huge hard on for the cute sexy woman.

"Sorry, I can't help myself. You know I have a big breast fetish, don't you?" I smiled at the busty woman.

"What, like you are hard wired, and CAN'T stop looking?" Betty replied. She giggled. "I'm going to show you the girls if we win tonight!" She was grinning ear to ear!

"Very HARD wired. Not that I mind looking at my wife's titties, but now that's all done. Yours I could look at all day!" I smiled at the busty woman. We went back to preparing the chili. There was a ton of work to do. Betty smiled back at me. It was time to put in the tomatoes. I put in can after can of crushed and whole tomatoes. I put in ten cans of tomato paste and I tasted the concoction. I put a spoon in front of Betty's mouth.

"Needs salt, needs some garlic, needs more heat. Two more scotch bonnets? Some fire hot sauce?" I nodded in agreement.

"I was going to put in three, but I trust your judgement. Two it is. I'm putting in a cup of salt and a quarter cup of black butcher's pepper. Where is the garlic? How about two more red bells? For sweetness. Do we have any Vidalia onions left?"

"One bag and I'm cutting it now! I'm going to fry it in olive oil to get it up to speed." She was brilliant. We needed more onions. I sent word to the pastor and the volunteers.

"Good idea! Where is the paprika?" I found it and put in the entire can. "Joe, I need you on the paddle. I need those big muscles of yours. Stir it five times. Thanks," I said. Joe Potter was retired and he enjoyed helping me with my chili. Of course he helped anyone who asked him. He was very happy to feel needed. He loved my chili as well. He stirred up the chili.

~~~~~~~~

At the end, everything done that could be done, all cooked.

Three minutes later, six spoons testing.

"It's done. It's good too!" Mary said.

"Done. Let's fill the chafing dishes first. Then the slow cookers ok?''I said.

"Mmmm"

"Done"

"I've got a bowl for the TV show and a couple for the crew." Betty said.

"Get one for the pastor and ask him to bless it. Better give him a spoon too!" I said.

"Ok, servers! We're ready!" Alma yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn't believe it! Five or six hundred folks showed up, and ALL the chili got eaten. And guess what? For the first time in my chili career, I got first place! As usual, I got none of my own chili. It was totally gone. And all the church chili we had made was gone as well. Except for one single bowl.

~~~~~~~~

Earlier that evening: all hell broke loose. The task of making a huge quantity of first rate chili was a daunting one.

"Pastor Michael wants fifteen more pots of chili. He has the tv news doing a spot on us, and the cook-off. They are expecting five hundred extra people. So... Here I am, in my hairnet, slaving behind a hot stove." I mock complained. I had sorta been volunteered to do this. Thank God I had help. Without the wonderful women beside me, there is no way on earth to get it done. Of course I would not exclude a bit of help from on high. We needed all hands on deck tonight for sure!

"John, are the rumors true? Gretchen was cheating on you, and she has been kicked to the curb? You are divorcing her?" Betty was naturally curious. Very curious. It was an open wound to me.

"Lots of years and tears, all up in smoke. I suppose it was all my fault. I just wasn't good enough to keep her happy. So Gretchen found a substitute for me. Hey, I did my best, so I know that we just should have never got married. We did have quite a few good years together, that's one good thing. I can't be ungrateful for those good years even though I suspect she did not love me at all the whole time. I just don't know." My eyes were sweating.

"Well that's just nonsense. You loved each other at one point I am sure. And there are the kids, not so small anymore. She did bear those children for you. That's gotta count for something," Betty was playing devil's advocate. I knew that she hated my wife.

"Why do you point out the blessings on my failed marriage? Don't you think I haven't been all over this and much, much more... In my head and heart. I'm sorry Betty, she gets me so upset. I didn't mean to yell like that. The fact that she is sleeping with another... person, well it just about kills me. I'll never find a good woman who wants to be with me. I'm broken. I'm no good. I am damaged goods. I'll die alone and unloved. I don't really have much to live for anymore. When I saw the detectives report, it cut my heart out of my chest. To know with certainty that you have been replaced in her heart and mind. I am... destroyed." I was working fast but on auto-pilot, because my emotions were beyond my control.