Facets of Love Ch. 05

And then, in a moment of introspection, my thoughts turned to my relationship with Robert and Mary. They too no longer needed my help. Both of them were much better lovers than Peter or Olive would ever be. By all rights, I should graduate them as well. Cut the mooring lines and send them off on their own.

I knew I wouldn't. They no longer needed me, but I couldn't imagine life without them. Both of them. And Robbie too. Even if they moved into the house next door, I'd still miss them. Not so much during the day, but the nights would be unbearable.

It would be different if Frank was still alive. If he hadn't left me, we would have kicked them out shortly after Robbie was born. But he did. He died well before his time, and I still had half my life to live. I wasn't ready to find another man and knew I couldn't keep Robert. So, I came up with an alternate plan. I'd slowly ween myself from my daughter and son-in-law, realizing I had one more task for Robert before I set them free.

-

Robert Ryan Jones

July 2019

By mid-summer, things had settled into an acceptable routine.

Martha and my brief foray into anal sex brought us to a sort of truce. We still had a joint bedroom session every Sunday when Mary took Robbie grocery shopping. And we still slept together one weekend a month when Mary went to Gainesville. But, other than that, we did our best to play the role of mother/son-in-law.

Martha continued to wear a near transparent nightgown every morning while fixing our breakfast, but she did that when we hated each other, so Mary didn't find it unusual. She also got immense pleasure out of flashing me with an occasional exposed nipple or ass cheek and became an expert in the use of the double entendre, but these were all done in jest. Even if Mary caught on, she'd probably chalk it down to her mother's weird sense of humor and not an indication of something else.

I guess what I'm saying is, Martha and I started liking each other. One event in particular brought us closer together.

Mary wanted a ceiling fan in Robbie's room. She didn't care what it looked like; she just wanted some cool air blowing on her baby during the hot summer months. Martha, on the other hand, was very particular about any changes we made to her house and, since I'd be the one installing the fan, I too wanted a say in the purchase. So, one Saturday when Mary was in Gainesville, Martha, Robbie, and I went ceiling fan shopping.

I know. Nobody gives a shit about our trip to Home Depot. A fan is a fan. But who we met there is important.

We'd picked out a fan, I was carrying the box towards the checkout area and Martha was carrying Robbie when we heard somebody behind us say,

"Doctor Spencer, is this your family? Your son is absolutely adorable."

We turned around to see a large man accompanied by a woman who I would normally describe as tiny, if she didn't have a watermelon growing in her belly.

"Hello," Martha said. "This is my grandson and my son-in-law. And you're absolutely right, they are not only part of my family, they're also quite adorable."

"Hi, I'm Peter," the big man said as he shook my hand in a manly grip. "And this is my wife, Olive."

"We're Doctor Spencer's biggest fans," Olive said. "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be shopping for nursery room furniture."

The conversation continued for a few more minutes as the mismatched couple oohed and aahed over Robbie while singing Martha's praises. We finally extracted ourselves from the overly energetic pair, paid for the fan, and escaped to the safety of Martha's minivan.

As we drove home, Martha looked over at me and said,

"Do you believe me now?"

"Peter and Olive?" I asked. "Big dick, small vagina?"

"The clients I told you about."

"Yeah. I believe you. I didn't at first, but seeing them in the flesh, now I do."

If Peter and Olive actually exist, that means she really did the whole anal thing to help her clients. Which means her Nipple Envy theory might also be valid. And maybe, just maybe, what she's doing with me is more than simple sexual release for a lonely, horny woman. She really is trying to help other people, to include Mary and me.

That was the day I might have fallen in love with my mother-in-law.

-

Mary Spencer Jones

Aug 2019

Some wonderful things happened during my first two semesters at Gainesville.

Yes, I was getting ever closer to my college degree. True to my promise to Robert, I was acing every course I took. But I expected that. Not to brag, but I'm damn good at math and I was probably the only person in my class that got a wet pussy just thinking about accounting. My love of numbers was only rivaled by the love of my husband and family. With Robert, Robbie, Mom, and Uncle James in my life, it was impossible for me to fail.

And let's not forget Gloria. Even though I only saw her two days a month, she quickly crept into my inner circle. Not because she housed me, fed me, and kept me warm at night. Her ability to send my body places it had never been before, while certainly thrilling, also wasn't what brought us emotionally close. What made me fall in love with Gloria was her reliance on me.

Ours was a strange relationship. We didn't overtly decide to have sex. It just happened. Helping me with my 3:00 am breast pumping turned into an after-snack cuddle which evolved into afternoon massages, evening sixty-nine sessions and morning finger play.

It took me a while to figure it out, but I had something that Gloria didn't. Not big boobs and an easily excited pussy, although she enjoyed the hell out of both. What I had was a family. A close-knit group of loved ones that were the center of my world.

Good sex isn't filled with moans, groans, and cries of ecstasy. A truly intimate relationship requires a sharing of both the mind and the body. Which means you have to talk to each other. Tell your partner what you like and what you don't. What makes you happy and what makes you sad. And sometimes, what's on your mind.

When I wasn't thinking about Gloria's tongue on my clit or an upcoming accounting exam, my mind spent a good bit of its time on family. And that's what Gloria wanted to hear. How did I know? She told me.

"I'll lick your pussy all night long if you keep sharing happy stories about your life," she told me.

I never asked her why because it was obvious.

She never spoke of her job because she was ashamed of what she did. I never did find out how she spent her work week; my best guess was either a waitress or maybe something in retail. Whatever it was, the size of her apartment and condition of her car indicated she wasn't rolling in cash.

She also never talked about her family, which meant she wasn't proud of them. Her upbringing wasn't the loving experience mine was. She never had the fairy tale romance that I had with Robert, and she was especially envious of my bond with Robbie.

So, instead of drawing out her bad memories, I soothed her troubled soul with stories of my life as she taught me more about pleasing another woman than I thought possible.

Which leads me to Mom.

Because of my growing relationship with Gloria, I also got closer to Mom. Neither one obviously knew that I was getting pussy licking lessons from two experts, but the results surprised and delighted them both. And I think my monthly weekend in Gainesville not only helped strengthen the bond between Mom and me, it also brought her and Robert closer together.

It made sense. Forcing the two of them to collaborate on Robbie's care one weekend a month had to help their previously strained relationship. When Robert and I first started dating, they essentially hated each other. Slowly, that animosity turned into respect and, later, maybe even affection.

Don't get me wrong. They still pretended to be mortal enemies, but their constant slights took on a more teasing tone and, every once in a while, I caught one of them doing something slightly inappropriate in front of the other. All in good fun, of course. Exactly the kind of relationship a happy family fosters.

Things were going so well, when Robbie turned one, I quit taking birth control pills so I could give him a little brother for his second birthday.

-

Dr. Martha Weaver Spencer

Sep 2019

I tried my best to live a healthy lifestyle. I exercised regularly, ate nutritious foods, and read mind enriching books. My only vice was a slightly questionable habit of periodically screwing my daughter and son-in-law.

Earlier, I promised myself I'd cut down on my illicit interludes, with the eventual goal of stopping completely. But, as our family got into what I thought a comfortable routine, I realized it was best for all of us to maintain the status quo.

I needed the tender embrace of my daughter, the passionate affection of my son-in-law and the innocent love of my grandson. And they needed me. Not next door, not in a neighboring town. They needed me in the same house. Living our lives together as one family.

Mary might have agreed with me, but Robert was a different story. Yes, I think he loved me, but he loved Mary more. A lot more.

His inner boy scout kept whispering in his ear. "This is wrong. I shouldn't cheat on my wife. Martha needs to find her own man so Mary and I can live honorable lives."

"Well, screw you," my inner succubus replied. "I've already found my man and I know exactly what to do to keep him."

-

Robert Ryan Jones

Nov 2019

By all outward appearances, I was leading the life most men only dreamed of. I was running a highly successful and rapidly expanding manufacturing company. I had a drop-dead gorgeous wife, and my son was so damn cute, people thought his face should be on baby food commercials. I lived in a big house and my mother-in-law treated me better than most women treated their husbands.

Even if someone knew my deep dark secrets. If they knew my mother-in-law pampered me because I fucked her brains out every Sunday afternoon and slept with her whenever my wife was away. If they knew I enjoyed the favors of a beautiful mistress five days every month. Even then, most people would still assume I was living the dream. But dreams can quickly turn into nightmares. Nightmares spawned by guilt.

Every time I kissed the lips of a woman I hadn't married, my conscience shuddered.

Every time I caressed the breasts of a lady without a husband, my moral fiber lost a strand.

Every time I sunk my erection into a girl not named Mary, my soul turned a shade darker.

It was only a matter of time before my "perfect life" collapsed around me. I had to do something to reverse the downward spiral.

But what? What can I do to get back to the truth?

And is it already too late?

-

I arrived in Oklas that November with the intention of ending my relationship with May.

"One step at a time," I told myself. "Break it off with May first. She doesn't know where I live or even my real name. And even if she does, she's not the kind of girl who will come chasing after me.

After I've broken May's heart, when I get back to Tampa, I'll move Mary, Robbie, and me into a house of our own. It won't be easy. I'll have to confess all my sins, tell Mary everything I've been doing, both with May and Martha. Hopefully, when she forgives me - if she forgives me - she'll understand why we can't live with her mother anymore.

But first, I had to deal with May.

The brave man would have done it as soon as he got to town. He'd let May stay in room #12, get Manny to give him a different room and, explain to May over dinner why they had to stop sleeping together.

That man didn't show. And Manny didn't have any spare rooms.

Instead, the coward known as Mr. Ryan, spent four more nights in May's arms. Tickled her amazing tits to four more orgasms. Sunk his shameful shaft into May's depths four more times.

Sex with May was usually playful, full of teasing and tempting until our passions finally took over. That week was different. Each night we fell into bed with a desperate yearning, as if we both knew our time together was coming to an end.

We'd never done it in the morning before. We both had exercise routines and jobs to get to. There was no time for sunrise hanky-panky in Oklas, except for that last Friday morning. The morning I was going to break the news and tell May we had to reserve separate rooms for the following month. Tell her our affair was over.

May was already awake when I opened my eyes. Her knees straddled my hips, her hands on my chest, her pussy wrapped tightly around my morning wood.

"What the..."

May leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine, kissed me gently, and then replaced her lips with a finger.

"Fuck first. Talk later," she said.

It was May's favorite page of the Kama Sutra. She liked being on top, liked being in charge. In the cowgirl position, she could set the pace, control the action. She'd lean forward for a kiss, bend back so my tip rubbed her G-spot, caress her own tits while my hands massaged her clit, or twiddle her own twat while I tweaked her overly sensitive nipples.

The result was inevitable. We would come and we would do it together. Like two organisms with one mind, one purpose, one singular, overriding goal.

"Do you love me?" she asked when we were done, as her inner walls massaged my slowly shrinking erection.

"Yes," I said without a moment's hesitation. "More than I should."

"Shit. Wrong answer."

"Why?"

"Because I love you too."

"That's a bad thing?"

"It is for us," she said as she eased herself off of me and climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going? We need to talk."

May ignored me, stepped into the bathroom, and five minutes later emerged fully dressed.

"Wait a sec May, before you leave, we've got to -"

"Goodbye Ryan. I'll never forget you, but please, do everything you can to forget me."

Before I could respond, she walked out the door with her purse in one hand and a suitcase in the other.

It didn't take me more than a couple of minutes to empty my bladder, pull on some clothes and rush down the stairs after her. I went to the dining room first, hoping to catch her at breakfast.

"You looking for Doc May?" Manny asked.

"Yeah. Have you seen her this morning?"

"Yep, she just pulled away, heading south across the Red River bridge."

"But what about her patients? She usually doesn't leave town until mid-afternoon."

"Didn't you hear?" Manny asked. "She doesn't work in the clinic anymore. Yesterday was her last day."

"Who's going to look after the town?"

"We got us a new guy. A full time doctor. He's a forty something fella with a wife at least fifteen years younger than him. They moved into town last Tuesday and have been looking for a lot to build on. First time somebody's built a new house in Oklas since I can't remember when.

"All the credit goes to you, Mr. Ryan. You and your factory. The town's starting to grow. Hell, I'll bet this time next year some asshole will want to put up another hotel and restaurant and compete against me."

"Yeah, I hear you Mr. Manny and thanks for the good words. But where'd Doc May go?"

"Home, I imagine."

"Where's that? Where does she live. How do I get in touch with her?"

"Now that's the rub. Doc May and I talked about that very subject yesterday afternoon. She told me you might ask and made me promise I wouldn't tell you."

"You know? You know where she lives?"

"Son, take if from an old man who's been ghosted by at least a dozen women in his life. If they don't want you to find them, you shouldn't go looking."

***

Dear reader. Thank you for taking the time to read Chapter 5 of Facets of Love.

Please rate my story. I also want your constructive comments. My desire is to write stories you look forward to reading.

Chapter 6 marks the midpoint of the book. It's a chapter you won't want to miss as things come to a head (so to speak) and sets the tone for the second part of the story.