I Will Survive

"I don't give a shit who you are, you don't get to grope my wife," I yelled.

Turning to my now red faced wife, I told her we were leaving, and for her not to say a word.

"Libby, if this is the way he's going to act, you're fired."

"See you in court, asshole," I responded.

Getting back to our house, and letting our babysitter go home, I just glared at Libby while she undressed, in silence.

"Nothing to say?"

She just shook her head, moving into our bathroom, taking off her makeup.

Getting myself ready for bed in our other bathroom, I just couldn't image what got into her, to behave so unlike her normal, reserved self.

Waiting for her to return from hiding in our bathroom, I waited to see if she had anything to say.

"Can we talk about this in the morning, please?"

"I hope you know if that shithead follows through with his threat to fire you, we're going to sue his worthless ass for wrongful termination."

As she rolled away from me, I could hear her softly crying.

In the morning, the air between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"I certainly hope you don't think we're going to any other of your company parties, including that New Year's Eve party, next week."

"I sort of have to be there," she whispered.

I took a few short breaths, to make sure of what I was about to say would be well understood.

"If you go there, I'm pretty sure of what's going to happen, so, if you go, do not come home. EVER!"

Before hearing her answer I went into the playroom, to enjoy our kids, while I cooled off.

Nearly a half hour later, Libby asked if we could talk, away from our kids.

"First off, he caught me totally off guard, and I just didn't know how to react. Your yelling brought me back to my senses, and I'm so embarrassed, I don't know how to apologize. And, no, I'm not going to the New Year's Eve party."

Just then, she looked at her phone, and showed me the text from her boss.

"Sorry about last night, and you are NOT fired."

She just fell into my arms, sobbing, so I just held onto her shaking body.

"Is mommy sick, daddy?" Jenny asked, innocently.

"No, just very tired, from last night."

The next few months, were fairly tense, with the subject of her boss rubbing her tits was not brought up, by either of us.

Our sex life picked back up, but nowhere near what I wanted it to be.

With our kids heading for their fifth and fourth birthdays, I was beginning to get a very sick feeling that something was rotten in Denmark, as the saying goes.

Libby was working every day, and staying late, several times each week. When I'd ask, she was very evasive with her answers. Either it was getting ready for the company to be sold, or, some other major project she was given.

At the beginning of the summer, I was sitting in my office, when a package arrived, containing a small thumb drive.

Putting it into my laptop, I hit start. The screen was blank for a few seconds, before a computer generated voice started.

"Good morning, Mr. Bennett, what I'm about to show you will be very disturbing, but I guarantee it is 100% factual. I truly wish it wasn't."

With tears already in my wide open eyes, I saw John Morris in his office. I heard his office door open and close, with him telling the person who entered to lock the door.

My wife walked in, and without saying a word, she walked up to Morris, and gave him as hot a kiss as I've ever received. He quickly started removing her blouse, showing that she had already removed her bra.

He quickly started kissing each nipple, as he pushed her pants and panties down her rounded behind.

He then pushed her down his body, as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down his body. After lowering his boxers, allowing his limp dick to come free, he held my wife's head level with his uncut cock.

She took it in one hand, and slid his foreskin back, and started licking the head, as if it were the finest piece of meat in the world.

As her head bobbed back and forth, I could hear her contented humming, as his cock slowly grew. In just a few minutes of sucking, I could sense he was emptying his load down her throat.

This was something she hadn't done with me for several years.

Compounding the injustice, he stood her up, bent her over his desk, and with just a little dollop of lube, shoved his narrow seven inches of dick up her ass.

Now this was something that just wasn't allowed!

The mystery voice came back, saying that he had sent a very similar video to Mrs. Morris, this morning.

Just as I was going to disconnect, I heard the voice start again.

"I almost hate to do this, Mr. Bennett, but as Bachman-Turner Overdrive sang, You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet."

Another shot in a different office. In walks Libby, and from another office, in walks Jim Morris, the son of the owner.

He repeats nearly the same shit as daddy did to my wife. The only difference? He was a bit larger, and didn't butt fuck her, just a blow job, and fucking her bent over the desk, but not up her ass.

By the time this video was over, I was in tears, beside myself with anger. Just as I was about to take the thumb drive out from my laptop, the voice said just how sorry it was, and that he had sent this same video to both the Misses Morris's.

I left work and picked my kids from their daycare. I had already called a neighbor to watch them until I would call and pick them up. I told her it might be late.

Sitting waiting for a conversation I thought I'd never have, it took all my powers of concentration not to literally explode.

When Libby walked in, she asked where the kids were.

"They're safe, with a baby sitter."

"Why did you say they're safe?"

"Because I can't take the chance who you might be fucking in our bedroom, with them in the house!"

"How dare you!!"

"Watch this video, Elizabeth, now!!"

She recoiled knowing I hadn't called her by her given name for years.

As the video started I could see the blood drain from her face. Then her hands moved to each of her cheeks, with her body shaking. I could see her tears rolling down each side of her face.

By the end of the video, hearing the voice telling us both the Morris wives were notified, the silence became deafening.

"I hope you know I have an appointment with a lawyer, tomorrow, afternoon. I think it would be best for everyone involved to sell this house, split the profit, and go our separate ways. Also, I'd seriously suggest a full STD test, with daddy fucking you in the ass, bareback. Just so you know, I won't allow you to touch my kids until you're cleared."

Before she could answer, I was up, going to get my kids, and taking them to the extended stay hotel I had already checked into.

"I only have one question. Why?"

As I closed the door, I could hear her sobbing.

Too fucking bad, that's the price of infidelity.

The morning of my visit with my divorce lawyer, I see on my caller ID, the name Evelyn Morris. I debated not answering, but I wanted to hear what she had to say.

CONVERSATION:

Greg Bennett, here.

Mr. Bennett, my name is Evelyn Morris, John's soon to be ex-wife.

I'll give you two minutes, tops.

I want you to know how very sorry I am how John has treated you and your wife.

Let me interrupt, she's my soon to be ex-wife, too. Go ahead.

I won't make excuses for that asshole, and I now know I should have kicked his ass out years ago. Just so you know, the company that he calls his, is in fact mine. And he is no longer employed here. Neither is his son. I just can't believe how they've acted.

Well, Mrs. Morris, trying to digest all this, I truly believe the only thing you're upset about is they both got caught! I only wish I knew who 'the voice' in those videos was, so I could thank him properly. Now, if you don't mind, I'm on my way to get my divorce proceedings started. Good bye, and don't ever contact me, again. Am I clear?

Perfectly. Good bye.

What a bitch, I thought. She sees her husband groping my wife at their own Christmas party and she acts shocked to find out he's now fucking her. How stupid is this woman?

My meeting with the lawyer went acceptionly well. After showing her the video, and allowing her to copy it, I was on my way.

Three days later, sitting at work on a Friday afternoon, my phone rings. The ID shows a number I don't know. I decided to answer it, and nearly hung up, when I heard Libby's voice pleading for me not to hang up.

"Have you been tested?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Positive for Gonorrhea," she whispered.

"Jesus, Libby, are you telling both of them?"

"No, just Jim, as John didn't do me there."

I knew she meant her cunt.

"I've already started my treatment, and am nearly complete cured. Is there any chance you could see your way clear to bring the kids to the house, this weekend? Please, Greg."

Debating how to answer, I told her I would, and that I'd bring us all lunch.

"Can I ask what you've told them about us?"

"Believe it or not, I've talked about us in a very civilized manner, and both of them know way too much about how divorce works and they understand that mommy and daddy just don't love each other, any more. I did not tell them one word about the way you acted with both your boss and his son, hoping for some huge bonus."

Our weekend lunch went better than I had expected. Out of the kids view, she did show me her health report, showing she was all cleared. Modern medicine. About $1.25 worth of penicillin to wipe away a marriage killing act.

Two weeks later, we were called for a preliminary hearing. I was interested to see her lawyer. I did split several of our joint accounts, so I knew she had funds, at her disposal.

PRELIMINARY HEARING:

My lawyer and me on one side, and Libby and some pompous ass jerk on the other.

Her lawyer, talking just to be heard, asked aloud, who might be our Judge.

Just to get him revved up, I said, off-handed, I think it's Judge Crater.

For the uninformed, Judge Joseph Force Crater was a New York State Supreme Court Justice, who as last seen leaving a Midtown Manhatten restaurant on August 6th, 1930, never to be located, again. It took over 40 years to officially close that case.

As our judge entered, laughing, he glared at me, telling me I was far too young to know about Judge Crater.

Calling us to order, both lawyers made short opening statements.

Her lawyer started out asking for that video to be excluded, due to lack of authenticity.

Denied, counselor. I've talked with the source of that video, as well as several others he has sent around town, so lets move on.

Her lawyer then asked for me to just up and give his client our house.

Mr. Bennett, I'm guessing that's not what you were planning on?

No, your Honor, I've told her several times that the house would be sold, with us splitting the profits, 50/50.

Looking at her lawyer, Judge Nelson asked if that was true.

Yes, your honor, but Ms Oliver needs a place to live.

My lawyer, not wait for the judge to respond, says that's not our concern, and for the court to uphold the laws of our state, and order the property to be sold and the monies to be split.

After that exchange, Libby just stared down at the table in front of her, looking defeated.

I guess neither of the Morris wives wanted her living with them. Duh!

Leaving the courtroom, I felt just a tiny bit better, but still held my soon to be ex in a very low light. I still could not come up with one good reason for her to jump in bed with both father and son. Well, not in bed, splayed across two desks.

As we were saying our goodbyes, I almost felt sorry for Libby. Almost.

I almost broke into the 1950's bawdy song, "I've got the son in the morning, and the father at night" but my lawyer convinced me not to. Damn.

I was already househunting, knowing just what I'd need for my growing kids and myself. There were new houses being built all around the area we had been living these last seven years.

I had an idea of the profit I'd get from our house, and set out to find us new digs.

Within the next few weeks, not only did I find us a very nice house, the one we were selling was only on the market for two days, and sold for a lot more than we thought.

As the waiting period for our split to become final, I got my kids and me moved into our brand new house, with all new furniture, as I wanted nothing that reminded me of my disastrous first marriage.

With Dale and Jenny both in school, I knew I could be there for anything that required my presence. I just couldn't count on Libby for anything, since our only communication during this time was in court. She quit asking to see our kids. That really hurt me.

As school started, and our divorce finalized, I started to wonder about the upcoming holidays.

Nearing Thanksgiving, I knew my parents would be at my house, but my message to Libby went unanswered. My kids got over the rejection faster than I did.

About a week before Thanksgiving, I got a call from Evelyn Morris, that I almost didn't answer, but did.

"Mr. Bennett, I thought you should know that I've liquidated that business, and my ex-husband is living with some twenty something, near Portland, and his son is living near him. I just thought you'd like to know."

"Thank Mrs. Morris, I appreciate the news."

Right after that call, I got another call, and heard that 'voice' asking how I was doing. As I told him we were fine, he said Libby was working for a company in Seattle, doing some advertising work.

"Would you tell me your name, please?"

"Just call me Diogonese, the seeker of truth."

"OK, thanks, anyway."

A little aside, here. All during this period of family upheaval, I only heard from Darlene, Libby's mother, once. I'm not sure what her thinking was, as my little ones were still her grandchildren. I certainly hoped she wasn't blaming me in any way.

About a week before Thanksgiving, Darlene called me, asking if I was having Libby to my Thanksgiving dinner. When I told her that she hadn't answered my call, or text, she just thanked me for trying.

During this time, in our new home, and getting ready for the holidays, I was thrilled to have a neighbor girl helping with my kids. She was almost fourteen years old and very mature, for her age. Her name was Francine, but preferred Frannie.

A little before Thanksgiving, Frannie asked me about inviting the kids mother to our dinner. I guess both kids told her about the lack of response. She added that her mother Lynn, thought I should try again.

"Please tell your mother to talk to me, herself, OK?"

"Sorry, I just feel for both your kids."

"Thank you for caring, but I truly have tried, with negative results."

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, we were all outside playing, my kids on their swing set, with me just watching.

Frannie came out and asked if she could help, which I appreciated her asking.

Just then, a lady came out of their house, who I assumed was her mother, who I'd never seen. A fairly large woman, close to six feet tall, and while not being fat, was sturdy, as my grandad would have said.

"Hello, I'm Lynn Yeats, my daughter has told me about you and your girls."

"Greg Bennett, glad to finally meet you."

"Before you ask, my brother, Harris, has told me about your family, um, situation."

Wow, this lady and her wonderful daughter are related to the nice mail room kid, I'd met at that ill fated Christmas party.

After an hour of just friendly talk, it started to get cold, so my kids went inside, and Frannie went back to her house, leaving me alone, with Lynn.

"Can we just sit here and talk, Greg."

When I offered her one of the lawn chairs, I took another across from her. We sat talking about life in general. She knew about why my marriage blew up, but I didn't want to pry into hers.

She did volunteer some information. It seems as if she and Frannie's father never married, because when he learned Lynn was pregnant, he disappeared.

Before I could ask, she told me she never heard from him, again.

"No big loss," she told me.

Seeing the temperature drop even more, we both decided to go to our respective houses. As we got up to leave, she leaned over and gave me a light kiss in my lips.

I was a little shocked, and whispered my thanks.

Sitting in my house, later that night, it was my kids who asked if I liked Lynn.

"We both think she and Francine are very nice," Jenny told me, with Dale agreeing.

"So do I, but that's as far as that goes."

After they were in bed, I did give this a second thought. OK, she's a bit taller than me. A few years older than me. A little on the heavy side. Very easy to talk to. Jeez, what am I doing, the last thing I'm looking for, right now, is a relationship.

I'm just getting back on my feet, emotionally, I reasoned.

My kids and her daughter get along very well.

Each fact I was running through my mind always returned to that one major point. Emotionally, I just wasn't ready for any relationship.

Lynn and I did talk across the fence, and one day, when I was working from home, she called and asked me over to her house.

Sitting in her living room across from each other, she asked if her giving me that little kiss scared me away.

When I told her it didn't, it was my relationship phobia, for now, we just continued to talk.

She invited all three of us for dinner on Friday night, and told me her brother would be there, too.

Ever since those videos showing Libby's misdeeds started showing up, I tried in my mind to listen even closer, trying to detect voice patterns of who the narrator might be.

Could he be Harris Yeats? Who knows? There was also the possibility the voice could be female, too.

Dinner on Friday was very pleasant. Getting to know each of the Yeats family proved interesting. Lynn was a CPA, who worked for a large accounting firm, in Seattle, but did a lot of her work from home.

Harris did tell me he was now working in the mail room of the same company. As our conversation continued, his stuttering eased. The slower he talked, the better he was.

I was paying particular attention to his speech patterns, trying to discern if he was 'the voice' on those videos. Was he Diogonese?

After dinner, Harris left, and Frannie and my kids went to play some board game, leaving Lynn and me sitting on our own in her living room.

"Greg, do you think that somewhere down the line, we might go out for dinner, a show, or something like that?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe, but I need to tell you I have a fairly shitty track record in the dating arena. Fran's father took off. Not much better luck with two other men, and once I almost considered dating a woman, but didn't."

"In the eight years, or so, since I met Libby, I've never even thought this situation was even possible, so this dating stuff is sort of a mystery to me," I said, with a smile.

"I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, that even if we do date, I don't think I could have sex with you."

Laughing, I told her I was already thinking of excuses along those same lines.

When I figured it was my kids bed time, I started to get up, as did Lynn, so I took her lovely face in both my hands and softly kissed her.

We hugged, for a minute, with her ample breasts against my chest, and a growing bulge in my pants, pressing against her one of her legs.

"Jesus Greg, we're both full of shit on the sex front, I think we both might be ready, but not right now."

Just to see if I could, I very softly placed on hand on her left breast, and gently squeezed.

"I think we best stop, because none of those kids in the next room need to see two horny adults fucking on my couch!"

Even though her language shocked me, I had to agree.