Lincoln Park Mommy Ch. 07

"I did send him an e-mail, though. My lawyer went ballistic when I told him about it, but I had to get it off my chest. I told Mike about everything. Well, not everything, but I explained that my infidelity was habitual. I didn't name names, but my shrink thought it would help my 'psychological recovery,' as he puts it, to confess my sins. So anyway, I moved out, rented an apartment in the Gold Coast. It's an empty life, though. I've dated a few guys, but nothing clicks. I compare them to Mike and they just don't stand up. After three or four dates, after they've had their fun with me, after I've let them enjoy my body, they're gone, either on their own or because I tell them it's not working."

"It'll take some time, Kelly, but it'll work itself out eventually."

"Yeah, well, that's why I called." She paused, as though she were gathering her thoughts, or perhaps her nerve. "I was wondering if we could get together sometime?" Dan could hear the hope in her voice.

He sighed. "Kelly, I don't want to rule that out, but I don't want to mislead you, either. You and I served very discreet purposes in each others' lives. I think those purposes have probably come to an end. We never dated, and never wanted to. It was just sex, Kelly. Don't get me wrong: it was incredible. You're incredible. You took me places I've never been. But as far as you and I dating? I really like you, Kelly. I think, deep down, you're a great lady, and you are without doubt one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. But ask yourself this: could you ever be faithful to me?"

Dan let that hang in the air for a moment. In a voice filled with shame, Kelly responded, "Probably not, Dan. I wish I could make that promise to you, but I can't. We both know that."

"We do, Kelly. And as much as I enjoy your company, when I decide I want a girlfriend, all this will stop. As much as your, ah . . . history, I guess . . . as much as your history turns me on, it's not what I'm looking for in a girlfriend. At the end of the day, I don't think I could ever trust you to be faithful, and I don't think you could ever promise to be faithful." Kelly did not respond, and he thought he heard soft sobs coming from the other end of the line. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Kelly took a moment to collect herself. "Yeah . . . no. I don't know, Dan. I really don't know," she sighed. "I just feel so lost, so empty. It's like . . . it's like I have no emotions anymore. I'm just a shell." Her sobbing, still soft, began anew.

No matter how much she deserved this pain – it was self-inflicted, after all – this was heart-wrenching. "Tell you what, Kelly. Clean yourself up, get dressed, and meet me at the Old Town Alehouse. You know where that is? Two or three blocks west of LaSalle on North?"

"I'll find it."

"All right. Meet me there in an hour or so. But I want to be clear. You're not coming back here later, and I'm not going to your apartment. And we're not going to talk about your divorce or the sad things in your life. We're just going to have a few drinks and try to have some fun. You can tell me about your job, and about the fuckheads you've dated over the last few months, and we can laugh about all of it. But this is not a date, and we're not hooking up. Got it?"

Kelly laughed softly. "Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Dan."

"My pleasure. See you in a bit."

Dan and Kelly did meet for drinks. She greeted him with a warm and inviting smile, and they hugged. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off her enticing body. She had dressed conservatively in a white blouse, khaki pants and Prada driving moccasins. Her breasts, still firm at thirty-five, bulged seductively underneath her top. Her hair was in a pony tail, her make-up light. Her fingernails, as always, were beautifully manicured. Dan noticed the obvious absence of her wedding rings. But he kept his mind where it belonged, and managed to keep Kelly's mind off the awful predicament she had put herself in. For a few hours at least, Kelly MacGuire, soon-to-be Kelly Fitzgerald again, smiled and laughed and her bright blue eyes sparkled.

It took all his willpower not to invite her home with him, but when the bartender called last call, they left the bar. She paused on the sidewalk, a look of anticipation in her eye. But on her tip toes, she leaned in toward Dan and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, her scent wafting through his nose. "Let's keep in touch, huh, Dan?"

"Let's try to do that, Kelly. But whatever happens to us, take care of yourself. Pick yourself up, get your life straight. All right?"

"Such sage advice from someone so young," she teased.

Dan smiled, but said, "Yeah, I guess, but I'm serious. Our relationship, if you can call it that, was almost purely physical, but I developed a connection with you over these months, and I care about you. I care about what happens to you and I want you to be happy. Truly happy. So do what you need to do to get there."

"I will. See you," she said over her shoulder. Dan watched her walk away, sexy as ever, ring or no ring. He knew they wouldn't keep in touch. It just wasn't in the cards. He hailed a cab and jumped in.

Kelly didn't go immediately home. She walked down North Avenue and crossed the street at Wells, heading north. The Tequila Roadhouse was crowded, but she flashed a brilliant smile and thrust her breasts forward, and was rewarded with immediate entry. An hour later, she was in her living room, on her knees, a strange, thick cock banging against the back of her throat, gagging her. Half-an-hour after that, she was on her hands and knees on her bed, her once-elastic asshole stretched tightly around the battering cock. Twenty minutes later, Kelly again found herself on her knees, a thick glob of sperm oozing over her soft, red lips, running down her chin, and dropping onto her sweaty tits, soaking her distended nipples.