For The Greater Good - Redux

Story Info
A more complete ending to a recent imhapless story.
5.7k words
4.2
75.7k
62
113
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
amyyum
amyyum
1,740 Followers

Upon reading the comments on imhapless' story "For The Greater Good" I started to believe that many were written by whiny petulant little girls. Then I realized that my thoughts were insulting to the whiny petulant little girls of the world.

Since no male took up imhapless' challenge to write another ending to the story, I decided to, even though I was quite happy with the original ending. I have enough imagination to provide my own satisfactory ending to the story, and to help out those commenters that are worse that whiny petulant little girls, I decided to publish it.

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

In summary, in For The Greater Good, Kurt Bronson fell in love with genius PhD candidate Ashley Bronson (no relation). After a year of hot love-making during which Kurt got his MBA and Ashley her PhD in biomedical engineering, they married in a simple civil ceremony. Ashley was particularly appreciative of Kurt's help when she reached mental blocks in researching, or writing the thesis for, her PhD, since Kurt would go to her apartment upon a moment's notice in the middle of the night to fuck her doggy style to get her past her mental block. The only time that she sought, or even agreed to, doggy fucking was at these times; normally she wanted face-to-face sex with Kurt to express their love.

Ashley was quickly integrated into Kurt's family and loved Kurt's brother Tom (and his wife Melinda and two small kids) and Kurt's sister Jill and her family. Tragically, Tom developed HDGC, the rare form of cancer that had killed Kurt's father. Ashley immediately became pro-active, redirected an existing organization (RCA) to start HDGC research, and devoted her genius expertise to coming up with a cure. Unfortunately the research facility was 150 miles from Kurt and Ashley's home so they were apart except for weekends since Kurt was unwilling to jeopardize his career to move to be with Ashley.

While Ashley and her co-researchers developed a cure that saved Tom's life, during the research a few times when she reached mental blocks and Kurt was not there to help her out, Chad Beltran, an MD co-researcher, fucked her doggy style. Kurt witnessed one instance although he did nothing about it at the time since he knew that precipitous action could sabotage the research team, and jeopardize their ability to come up with the cure that ultimately saved Tom's life.

Ashley told Kurt on the phone, the day before she was to return home and Tom was well on his way to being cured, that there was something that she needed to talk to him about to assure their happy future, and as imhapless' story ends, Kurt is contemplating what he should do when Ashley returns tomorrow while he is preoccupied with how strange life is.

Now the Redux!

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

It was likely only an hour before Ashley would be back home, undoubtedly with her car loaded with her possessions that made her apartment living over the last four months bearable. Despite the tens, if not hundreds, of hours that I had spent agonizing over what to do, I still honestly did not have a clue. I didn't know how I could possible live without Ashley – not just the love of my life, but almost my reason for living – especially since I knew her idiosyncrasies before she left, I was too selfishly worried about my career to follow her, and she had saved Tom's life so that his kids would still have a father and his wife Melinda would not be a widow.

On the other hand, how could I get the image of Chad vigorously stroking his cock into and out of her glistening snug pussy as they grunted or moaned in ecstasy, or forgive her for not finding some other way – including demanding that I make visits – to get over her research impediments.

My non-decision was to act as normally as possible, see what Ashley had to say, and then make a decision. Instead of just admitting the truth, namely that I was kicking the can down the road, I convinced myself that I was just gathering more information in order to make a completely informed decision.

"Hi sweetheart," Ashley said, beaming, as she exited her fully-loaded car in our driveway.

"Hi Hon," I replied with a smile of my own, not entirely sincere but trying to be. As usual, Ashley looked good – really good. At 31 she could pass for 25 – a really buxom, beautiful twenty five year old that is.

"How was the trip?"

"Uneventful," Ashley replied as she came up to me and gave me a kiss.

"I see that your car is fully loaded."

"Yeah, John and Chad helped me load it this morning."

The mention of Chad's name soured my mood and my smile disappeared.

"Let's unload it," I tersely responded, hoping that my soured mood did not come through.

"We can wait for that, can't we Kurt?" Ashley replied, lightly touching my arm. "You left so abruptly a few days ago, and I've really missed you. Can't we just cuddle for a while?"

By the time she finished talking I was already unloading. "I'd like to get this out of the way," I barked with my back to her.

Then she grabbed my left arm and forcefully said "Stop, Kurt. You may not want the car unloaded after we talk."

I looked her in the eyes. There was a small tear in one of them. "Please, just put that suitcase back in and we'll talk," she sniffled. Then something unique in our relationship; she started to cry and ran into the house.

"Now is when the shit hits the fan," I mumbled to myself as I slowly followed Ashley through the front door. I found her sitting at the kitchen table, her face buried in her hands. I sat next to her, making enough noise so that she knew that I was there. I just waited, though, and didn't say anything. However, I didn't cross my arms which would have been a sign to Ashley, who gave a lot of credence to body language, that I wasn't really going to listen to her.

After a few minutes of quiet sobbing, Ashley snapped her head up. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I've had many emotions in the last few days including elation, depression, gain, loss, euphoria, guilt, and confusion. Let me clean up my face – I'll be right back and promise not to break down again."

I nodded my head as she rose and tenderly squeezed my shoulder as she walked past me to the bathroom. I heard the water running. She returned a few minutes later with her face clean and sparkly, but her mood anything but that.

"I sense that you might already know some of what I'm about to relate to you. I don't know how you would except for the fact that you've become an expert at reading me – just like I believe that I am with you. Your abrupt departure when you were last at RCA, and your supposed illness the last weekend that I was there really put my antenna up. Anyway, ask any question that you want to while I make the most painful confession of my life."

Ashley sighed and started to speak when there was a clamor at the front door and Tom, Melinda, their six year old son Brett, and their five year old daughter Brittany, came bounding into the house. While I had probably not closed the main front door, only the screen door, they might have come bounding in without knocking anyway since our families were so close and were always welcome in each other's houses.

"Ashley, Ashley," Brett and Brittany screamed at the top of their lungs as they brushed past me and clamored to see her. Brett literally threw himself onto her lap and put his strong little arms around her neck while Brittany grabbed one of her arms and started placing kisses all over it. The cacophony was deafening, especially when Melinda started sobbing and wrapped her arms around Ashley's shoulders.

After what seemed like a long time Tom said – with a tear in his eye – "You three are going to smother Ashley. Let her breathe."

Melinda let go and sat next to Ashley on the opposite side from me while holding her hand. Brittany had somehow managed to worm her way onto Ashley's lap alongside her brother once Brett released his grip on Ashley's neck.

"You saved my Daddy – I want to be just like you when I grow up," Brittany's high-pitched little girl's voice rang out over the din.

Obviously my talk with Ashley was going to have to wait. When my Mom, Jill and her husband Bill. and their two little kids, showed up a few minutes later, it was clear that this was going to be an Ashley love-fest, and there is no way in Hell that I would put a damper on it.

We ordered pizzas and salads, the kids got to drink colas for the first time in a year since it was a very special day, and everyone laughed, giggled, grinned, or sighed with contentment at one time or another. The only looks I gave Ashley were loving looks, not tense ones, and she relaxed completely – that is as completely as was possible with four little kids vying for her undivided attention.

When the last guest left, it was eleven o'clock; fortunately it was a Friday night so no one was working or going to school the next day. As we cleaned up the mess left by the human cyclones Ashley said "Kurt, despite the hour, I still think that it's best that we talk now. We can clean up tomorrow morning.

"OK," I replied, although I really didn't want to.

The "talk" started out predictably but didn't end that way.

"Kurt," Ashley said, sighing, and only making fleeting eye contact, "I guess that I have to come right out and say it. I got so preoccupied with my work at RCA that I reverted back to my old PhD ways and needed a doggy fuck to get over mind blocks that occurred at four critical times. You weren't there and instead of making a desperate call to you I did what I shouldn't have – I asked someone else to do the honors."

"Who?" I asked, even though I already knew, and with more edge to my voice than I wanted there to be.

After a pause, she said "Chad."

After a little sniffling while she looked at the floor she said "There was no love – it was just a physical act, a doggy fuck that did serve to clear my mind, just like in the old days."

"Was it with a condom or bareback?"

"Bareback," she said softly, again looking down, as I grimaced. I already knew that too, but hearing it somehow made it worse.

"So because you got a sense of entitlement and needed to get your pussy reamed, you expect me to just forgive and forget?" I bellowed, even though I had intended to act more subdued.

""Unfortunately, that's not the end of it. I...I...This is really hard to say and still convince you that I truly love you," she sniffled, "but the euphoria caused by a strange cock – not because it was Chad's because any decent cock and fuck would likely have done it – I realized that I wanted to experience that some more. I...I...really would like an open marriage where we could both have a sexual, not romantic, but sexual, relationship with others if the situation was right."

My head started spinning. I was not prepared for this – not in the least. I started stuttering, quickly stood up, and the next thing that I remember I was in the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital. I regained complete awareness in the Emergency Room, where the doctor told me that I had a concussion.

"How did it happen?" I groggily asked.

"According to your wife you stood up too quickly and then fell backwards and hit your head on the floor. Your 230 pounds," as an aside I lost fifteen pounds once my football days were over and kept it off by regular exercise, "hitting the floor didn't do your head much good. Now that you're awake I'll have your wife and mother, who is here too, come in to see you."

The reason that I blacked out came rushing back to me. I grabbed the doctor's arm. "Can you just bring my mother in for now – please?"

The doctor looked at me with a perplexed look; then she frowned; then she said "OK, I'll see what I can do."

When my mother came in I was direct. "Mom, I want out of here. Can you take me to your house right now?"

"But the doctor said that you have a concussion and it would be best if you stayed overnight. And what about Ashley?"

I wanted to say "Fuck Ashley," but I didn't dare, especially in view of the Ashley love fest that had taken place at my house that night – although by now it was really the next morning, probably about 2 a. m. "Mom, please do as I ask. I don't want to answer questions, I want you to trust me; please, please, take me out now, otherwise I'll have to try and leave by myself by cab."

It was clear that my mother didn't want to do what I was asking. She called the doctor back, and against the doctor's strenuous objections I signed discharge papers. Fortunately I still had my clothes on, and my wallet in my pocket. I flagged down a janitor who was cleaning up a mess in the Emergency Room, gave him $50 and asked him to tell the woman in the green dress who was pacing the floor in the waiting room – after confirming with my Mom that was Ashley's garb and activity – to please get her husband a soda from the cafeteria vending machines. He was only too happy to comply.

"Why did you do that?" My Mom asked after I was sure that Ashley was no longer in the waiting room.

"Mom – please – no questions tonight," I begged as she wheeled me out to the curb. I rose from the wheelchair, she steadied me, and we went to her car and drove off.

My Mom respected my wishes that night, although I overheard her calling Ashley on her cell phone telling her where I was, for which I was grateful. I wasn't as grateful the next morning when I awoke, stumbled downstairs with a splitting headache, and found Ashley and my Mom sitting at the kitchen table.

"I was so worried about you sweetheart," Ashley blurted out.

"Then how about a pain pill?" I gruffly replied.

My Mom hurried to get one and Ashley got me a glass of water. After I took it I asked my Mom to go outside – so that she couldn't eavesdrop – for a few minutes while I talked to Ashley. She reluctantly agreed.

"Ashley, I need some time to think. Since your car is still loaded, or at least it was as of last night, why don't you find someplace else to stay for a few months."

"W..w..why a few..ew..months?" she stammered.

"It's a lot to digest. Either you leave, or I will, but I need time away from you to think."

"Maybe you can just forget what I told you – I can get by without strange cock, I did for the eight years we've been married before the last six weeks..." she started to say.

"Ashley," I loudly interrupted. "Either you find another place or I will. I'll be back at our house Monday morning and I would really appreciate it if you were gone by then."

With that I laid my head on the table and started to sob. She got up, stroked my head, and then left. I had regained my composure before my Mom returned.

The next few weeks were Hell for many reasons. Although I was basically clear-headed by Tuesday, my Mom got the word out quickly that Ashley and I were separated. Of course Ashley didn't tell her any details about what had precipitated the separation, instead mostly some bullshit about how I felt that we had grown apart while she was working at RCA. That meant that Tom, Mom, Jill, and even Jill's husband Bill, took it upon themselves to almost daily lobby me to get back together with Ashley. That, combined with Ashley's thrice weekly calls about how we needed to get back together, which I always answered the same way ["I need more time to deal with the situation"], left me with little peace.

My family insisted that Ashley be invited to family get-togethers, and since I really wanted to see my family members, especially my nieces and nephews, I went knowing that Ashley would be there, and acted cordial, but distant, toward her. At one of such gatherings, I was outside playing catch with the kids when Melinda brought me a tall glass of lemonade. "There's some inside for you guys too," she yelled to the kids, "go ask your Dad/Uncle Tom."

With that the kids went rushing inside, body-checking each other to see would could get their lemonade first.

"Thanks, Melinda. That's so nice of you to serve me on this hot day."

"With what you're going through, you need someone to be nice to you," she replied, stroking my arm.

I looked at her strangely. Then I said what popped into my mind. "You're the only one in the family that doesn't bug me about getting back with Ashley. Why is that?"

"I can tell that you're in pain, and it's not my business to tell you what you should do. I've always liked you, and you've always been great to me – I'm not about to suggest what you have to do. You need to work it out yourself, although I will tell you that I'm a good listener if you ever need a shoulder to cry on," she said with a smile, stroking my arm again.

Her words stunned me. "What do you know?" I asked.

"I haven't been told anything; but I have intuition and would be surprised if what I believe isn't correct. Come on back inside, and have a good time," she said with another smile. Then she rose on her tip toes and kissed me on the cheek, took my hand, and led me back inside.

For the first time in my life I looked on Melinda as a woman – not just Tom's wife and Brett and Brittany's mother. "What a great woman," I thought as I followed her inside.

There was one good thing about my otherwise fucked-up situation, a wife who had broken my heart and a family that seemingly had sided with her. I retreated to my work, and amped up my game there so much that I got a promotion to head of the largest department in the company a month after Ashley moved out.

The constant lobbying by my family, and Ashley, was starting to get to me, however. Ashley also promised me time and again that she was "absolutely" not interested in an open marriage and was obviously just in a bad place when she had proposed one. Therefore, I broke down, and offered to go over to her rented condo to have a heart-to-heart talk with her. "I'll be there about noon on Sunday," I told her over the phone Saturday afternoon.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," she chirped.

As I was eating breakfast at my favorite coffee shop Sunday morning, my cheery waitress informed me "The cook made cinnamon buns today – are you interested?"

Ashley and I had had breakfast together at that coffee shop many times, and whenever the cook made his special treat we gobbled them up. They were Ashley's favorite pastry, if not food. Even though it was only ten a. m. I decided to get some and bring them right out of the oven over to Ashley as a treat. My heart wasn't overburdened for the first time since my hospital stay as I pulled into the condo parking lot.

I almost got into an accident, however, when I saw Chad walk out of Ashley's condo and get into his car and drive off.

I threw the cinnamon buns against Ashley's front door, and left. I turned off my phone, drove out of town, went to a minor league baseball game, took a walk through a park, ate dinner, and when I got back to my house that night there was a note on my front door from Jill's husband Bill. "Tom has been in a car accident. Go to Memorial Hospital immediately."

I couldn't fucking believe it when I got there. Mom, Melinda, Jill, Bill, and –fuck it – Ashley were crying in a surgery waiting room. "What's the prognosis?" I asked Bill after drawing him aside.

"He's in surgery now, but his chances are slim," he dejectedly replied.

I went up and hugged Melinda. We were joined in our hug by Jill and Mom, and I saw Ashley also trying to join in, but when she saw my stare she backed off.

Just then the surgeon came in. He pulled Melinda aside. I knew what the news was by the look on his face. I stood behind Melinda and caught her as she collapsed.

I couldn't help but initially take the situation personally as I drove my devastated mother and sister-in-law back to what had been Tom and Melinda's house, where a neighbor was with Brett and Brittany. "Tom's life had been saved from cancer at the expense of my marriage, and now he was dead anyway – what the fuck does the world have against me?" was my selfish self-pitying thought.

amyyum
amyyum
1,740 Followers
12