Jezebel - It Was You - The Sequel

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After dumping Jezebel our hero prospers.
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/27/2016
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I never intended to write a sequel to "Jezebel It Was You" (published October 27, 2016 in Loving Wives) however the comments and emails I received seemed to want one, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see what happened too; so here it is.

As we left the characters, Blake and Clarisse were touring the U. S. in a classy RV, fucking up a storm; Jezebel had been dumped on Horton's doorstep eight months pregnant with Blake's baby and with the knowledge that the pre-nup that she had with Horton allowed him to kick her to the curb if she got pregnant by someone else no matter the circumstances; Wilbur (Horton's meg-rich father) was wondering where his wife Clarisse was, and Megan, Blake's ex-wife, had been barred from ever working in the financial field again with a suspended jail sentence still hanging over her. The story is told by Blake -- and he's not omnipotent, so he doesn't know what all the other characters are thinking, only what they say and do that he hears about.

As a reminder:

If ever the devil was born without a pair of horns

It was you, Jezebel, it was you...

If ever a pair of eyes promised paradise

It was you, Jezebel, it was you...

If ever the devil's plan was made to torment man

It was you, Jezebel, it was you...

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

I always really liked Clarisse, and she me, however I have to admit to being somewhat surprised that we were having as much fun on our cross-country trip as we were. This was true even with the sword of Damocles hanging over my head. Despite my truly excellent new identity papers I was still concerned that if I was ever recognized as Blake Thorsness and caught I'd spend a significant amount of time in jail for kidnapping Jezebel.

Despite the fact that Clarisse was old enough to be my mother, we had a real connection. While sex was the main initial attraction we had for each other -- and while sex with Clarisse never got old, and from the physical standpoint she was my best sex partner ever (aside from Jezebel) -- it was more than that. We shared many of the same likes and dislikes, yet were different enough to be interesting. We both loved touring National Parks and Monuments, going to dance halls, watching plays, riding horses, and trekking in the wilderness.

In fact, after the first month where we fucked twice a day and had never-ending lust for each other, our emotional connection was just as great as our physical one, even when we got to fucking only three or four times a week. Then the fucking turned to lovemaking, and before I knew it after one especially rewarding sexual encounter where my entire body was flooded with endorphins and I went limp I mumbled "I love you Clarisse" as I pulled her toward me.

After a pause she gently but determinedly pushed me away. "What did you just say Blake?"

I stared into her enchanting intense ultramarine-colored eyes and with a hand on the nipple of one of her prodigious tits in no uncertain terms I retorted "While I just unintentionally blurted out 'I love you,' in fact that is what I feel for you; love; pure unadulterated love."

Her eyes returned my stare as she spoke. "I love you too, Blake. However, as we agreed when we started our journey, we'll only be together for six months. Then I'll return to what's left of my life or start over -- yet to be determined -- and you'll find a suitable age-appropriate mate and have as many kids as you can crank out. That's understood -- isn't it?"Her eyes started glistening with tears as she talked, but she got herself under control.

"That's the deal I made with you -- although every day I curse the fact that I can't have children with and marry you. However, I can't stop loving you," I replied.

"Don't you dare stop," she mumbled in return. Then she shinnied down to my cock, deep-throated me and had me rock hard within just a few minutes, and then proceeded to ride me cowgirl like a three dollar whore as her magnificent mammaries bounced back and forth until I latched onto them. We were both rendered comatose by our synchronous earth-shattering orgasms, and didn't stir until we woke up in each other's arms the next morning.

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

During our trip, using the same spoofing service that I used while I held Jezebel captive while fucking her for eight months, Clarisse kept in touch with her daughter, her friends, and on occasion even Horton. She never told them what she was up to, but her daughter figured it out although she promised not to let anyone else know.

A lot of interesting things happened while Clarisse and I were enjoying each other's company, and wearing out each other's private parts, during the first three months of our trip.

The first was, of course, that Jezebel delivered a healthy happy eight pound baby girl on her due date. I admit to being somewhat distraught that it was a girl, not because I had any inherent preference for the sex of my child, but because the last thing that mankind needed was another creature like Jezebel! It was also puzzling because the doctor in the backwater area where the cabin I held Jezebel in had told us that it would be a boy! Even more disturbing, Jezebel named the little girl Delilah -- what chance did she have with a mother, and name, like that?

Horton expected Jezebel to be contrite about her mothering a child with me, and act differential toward him especially since he had the power to divorce her without giving her any significant bucks. True to her nature, however, Jezebel didn't have even an iota of contrition, and told Horton that he could shove it since she could find a better man any day of the week. It didn't help matters that she told him that the sex with me was infinitely better than it was with him, even though that was undoubtedly an exaggeration since my ex Megan never had any complaints about Horton's fucking abilities.

In any event, Horton filed for divorce two months after Jezebel gave birth to Delilah. In a situation that Clarisse and I would have to monitor carefully, Jezebel had also determined that she wasn't suited for motherhood and was investigating putting Delilah up for adoption.

Megan was worming her way into Horton's life. She was taking advantage of both Jezebel's physical and emotional situation, and providing Horton with sexual companionship. Megan apparently had been unable to get a job to her liking, and had no problem with living a life of leisure as filthy-rich Horton's wife -- or concubine. That situation also required future monitoring.

Wilbur was only a shell of his old self. Although he didn't know exactly what had happened to Clarisse, he knew from his daughter that she was safe and sound, but not likely to stay married to him. The bluster and confidence he had always felt before seemed to be sapping out of him.

Meanwhile -- did I mention that Clarisse and I were truly enjoying our active sexual and emotional compatibilities!

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

About the fourth month of our trip, Clarisse found out that Jezebel had in fact given Delilah up for adoption. We found out who adopted her because since it was fairly well known -- Horton did nothing to hide it -- that Horton was not Delilah's father that a notice had to be made public giving the real father -- me, Blake Thorsness -- the chance to object. Of course since if I revealed myself I'd be arrested for kidnapping Jezebel, and would blow my new identify (Rob Branson), there is no way that I could object even if I wanted to. However, I now had the name of the couple adopting Delilah and when Clarisse and I looked them up on the Internet and Clarisse had her PI check them out they seemed to be really good people who would be doting parents.

About the fifth month of our trip, Clarisse and I found out that Horton had kicked Megan out and that she was now trying to find any work that she could get to support herself. Two days after that news we found out that Wilbur had died.

Wilbur's death made it necessary for Clarisse to return home immediately. At the time we were only about sixty miles from Bozeman, Montana, which surprisingly had a direct flight to Chicago, and from there Clarisse could go anywhere that she wanted. We had one last tearful night together, I promised to forward some of the mementos that we had collected to her, and that I would eventually meet up with her again. I vowed to also keep in touch by phone.

Without Clarisse the trip was no longer fun, so a few days later in Salt Lake City I sold the RV, bought a hybrid, and decided to go back to my home city to see if I could live there without being found out.

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

Life is funny; when I kidnapped and fathered a kid with Jezebel it was primarily to punish her. I didn't really think out the consequences since I was filled with rage about how I had been treated by her, Horton, Megan and Wilbur. Now having gotten as much revenge as could be reasonably expected without committing any more crimes I started to really think about what I had done. I finally decided that I needed to meet my daughter.

My daughter had been adopted by Bill and Stacy Wilson, a childless couple in their late twenties who couldn't conceive themselves, for reasons that I was not privy to. Thankfully they re-named her since I hated the name Delilah. My daughter was now Madison Elaine Wilson. While the time for me to object to the adoption was still a few months away I had absolutely no desire to try and take Madison away from them even if I didn't have an extended jail sentence hanging over my head (which I did) if I revealed my true identity. No, Rob Branson, my present self, would have to figure out some other approach to worm my way into Madison's life.

While I had enough money left over from the lawsuit against Megan's former company to sustain me in style for several years, and since Clarisse was in love with me and filthy rich so that I could count on her for help if I needed some big purchase, I knew that I had to work to remain sane and productive. With a strong recommendation from the attorney I worked with on the lawsuit against Megan's ex-company, and a good but not over-the-top fake resume which included having worked for Wilbur's company with Clarisse as the contact for a recommendation, I was able to get a job as a paralegal at a prestigious law firm in the same city that the Wilsons lived in. While I was way over-qualified for my paralegal job there was no way that I could become an attorney again without going to law school a second time, under my new name, and that wasn't in the cards.

The Wilsons were a middle-income family with good values and pleasant dispositions, at least according to the report from the PI that Clarisse hired to check them out. They were also a nice looking couple, not with movie star looks but with boy-and-girl next door good looks. I bought a house only a block away from the Wilson's condo, joined the same health club that they belonged to, got on the same recreational softball team that Bill played on, and got involved in the same charity that Stacy volunteered with. With all these connections, and by ingratiating myself to them with every contact, it was only three months after I bought the house that we were good friends.

In the next year my life stabilized. Since I was able to do anything in the law that the firm I worked for required -- except make court appearances -- within a year I was the highest paid paralegal not just at the firm, but likely the entire area, since the firm I worked for was able to charge a premium for my time and rewarded employees solely on the basis of productivity. I had gotten to know the Wilsons so well that they had no qualms about me babysitting Madison and their dog Rex if they ever wanted a night out, or even one entire weekend. During that weekend my joy at being able to be around Madison turned to pure unadulterated love of the type I had never had before.

While my romantic/sex-life wasn't great, I was able to hook up with Clarisse about one weekend a month. Normally we would both travel to a resort about halfway between our houses and have a weekend of outdoor activities, eating good food, dancing, and -- of course -- either making love or trying to fuck each other senseless. Every time we met Clarisse would ask me if I had identified any potential mates my age, and chastise me when I hadn't. While I did date some I was happy with interludes with Clarisse and being able to be around Madison so I wasn't really looking, still stinging from how Megan and Jezebel had burned me.

There was another complication. I started to really, really like Stacy. While I would never, ever, do anything to harm the Wilson's marriage I couldn't help being attracted to her. As I indicated before she wasn't really a classic beauty but extraordinarily cute; she had a shapely body though not like Elizabeth Hurley or Jennifer Lopez; but she had a genuineness about her that I had never seen before. After I realized my growing attachment to her I made a point of never being alone with her -- not even if Madison was present -- and always made sure that I had a date if I went out with the Wilsons (if Stacy's or Bill's parents were available to babysit).

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

A real-life complication arose, however, when I travelled on business with one of the partners (a female) in my law firm to visit a client in another city. It was not a trip I could pass up since some of the legal issues we were dealing with were strongly related to technology and I understood the technology and the partner did not, although she was a whiz with respect to the legal issues. Through Clarisse's PI I had kept track of Jezebel's whereabouts -- at least the city she now lived in -- and unfortunately the client's operation was in that same city. However, the metropolitan area had over a million people so the chances of running into her were small. Plus, even if she saw me she'd have to look closely to determine that it was me. Since the last time she saw me I wore brown contacts to cover my steel-blue irises, I had a mustache, and I wore my hair considerably longer. My body was no different, although with a suit on -- she hadn't seen me in a suit for years -- I also hid my muscular biceps and thighs quite well.

The first day and night with the client went perfectly. The second day did too -- but dinner that night things went awry. The partner and I were having dinner with the in-house attorney, the chief engineer, and their wives. Shortly after we finished the main course and before dessert I saw her. She had glanced my way and seemed to be breaking off the conversation she was having and I was sure that she was going to approach my table.

There was no mistaking Jezebel; she was/is unique. Jezebel is 5 feet 11 inches tall with legs long even for such a tall woman, and as usual she had her ubiquitous four inch heels on. She looked to be a little thinner -- probably 135 pounds instead of 145 -- since I had seen her last, but she had even more muscle definition in her arms and legs than I had recalled. Her long hair still had a color that defies description but is closest to blonde with auburn highlights, although more auburn than the last time that I saw her. Her most distinctive characteristic -- her eyes -- hadn't changed at all. Even at a distance I could tell that they were the same exotic, alien, tiger, and ethereal glowing eyes not duplicated anywhere else in the world.

Trying to be as polite as possible considering the speed that I needed to operate with I excused myself from the table and took off toward the washroom. I knew that she would track me down, but I didn't want to be at the table with the partner and clients when she did. I went into the men's washroom -- half expecting her to follow me in there -- and when I came out she was waiting for me.

"Hi Blake," she oozed, making an attempt to kiss me. I gently avoided the kiss, but I knew not to pretend that she was mistaken.

"Hi Jezebel," I replied. "You're looking very good -- as always."

"Your mustache and brown eyes threw me off for a minute," she chuckled, "but there really is no mistaking your chin, nose, and build. Why the disguise?"

"It's not a disguise. It's the new me. Obviously, I don't want to be arrested for kidnapping you, do I?" I replied trying to generate a smile.

Jezebel laughed. Then she said "Do you really think that I'd report you? Even though you kidnapped me I look back on it as one of the best experiences of my life -- except for delivering that damn kid, which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Plus you really did me a favor by separating me from Horton. My new husband is a better fuck and has even more money, so I'm happy as a pig in shit."

"Really -- no hard feelings -- although that makes me a little sad because I thought that I was getting revenge on you for ruining my career, and now I find out that you enjoyed it," I suspiciously responded.

"Why Blake, you know that you were my best fuck ever," she grinned. "We do need to talk a little, however."

"Can we take a walk when doing it; I need to call my date and make excuses, and maybe you need to call your husband if that's the guy I saw you with," I interjected.

I was pretending that one of the women sitting next to me was my date because I sure didn't want Jezebel involved in my business and ruining another career for me. I called Beth, the happily married older partner that I was on the trip with, and told her that an emergency came up and to please make my excuses and that I'd see her in the hotel lobby tomorrow morning. Fortunately she was only slightly miffed, and since dinner was almost over she promised she could cover for me. At the same time Jezebel was calling her husband; I have no idea what she told him.

Jezebel and I left the restaurant and started walking. Jezebel grabbed my arm as we walked and seemed very friendly, although with her you never know whether she's going to give you a passionate kiss or stab you in the kidneys. Our talk rambled all over the place; of course we talked about the past, including our eight month long fuck-fest in the cabin. I pretended to not know anything about the baby and I thought that I pulled it off well when I asked her if she named her "son," using the bad information that the rural doctor had given us. I acted surprised when she told me that it was a girl, and I asked if it had the same beautiful face and eyes as her mother -- flattery can work even with someone as wicked as Jezebel.

We stopped off for a few drinks, I only pretended to drink mine because I had to keep my faculties since I had no idea what Jezebel's game was. Either she was a little sloshed, or pretending well, when she propositioned me. "Blakey-boy; let's have a couple of fucks for old times' sake," she slurred her words.

"What about your husband? Won't he be suspicious?"

"Let me handle that Blakey-boy; you know that I'm not a one-man woman. Come on, don't you remember what a good fuck I am?"

"Yes, Jezebel, I do remember that you are an all-time fuck," I grinned. Actually it was true if you just consider the physical aspect. If you also consider the emotional aspect then Clarisse is my all-time playmate.

Jezebel really liked my response, so I continued. I wasn't averse to fucking her if I could avoid her finding out my new name and location; and I had prepared for a situation like this by carrying two sets of IDs, my new Rob Branson IDs, and a fake (it would never fool a cop or someone with knowledge who inspected it properly) driver's license from Arizona and one other fake ID with the same name as the license "Tom Tressel." I said "Let's find a hotel -- but you have to pay for it because I was being treated to dinner and don't have a credit card with me although I'll pay for these drinks with cash."

Jezebel smiled at that, gave me a short but hot kiss on the lips, and then excused herself. While Jezebel went to the ladies room I took all of my Rob Branson IDs out of my wallet and put them in a hidden pocket in my sport jacket, and took the two Tom Tressel IDs from that same hidden pocket and put them in my wallet. By the time Jezebel returned I had paid the bill and off we went, to a hotel at least five miles from the one Beth and I were staying in.

12