Making a Deal Ch. 01

It was a full hour later, according to the harsh chimes of the Novaks' old grandfather clock, when Michelle and Dom allowed themselves to wind down. They were on the couple's big, plush couch; she with her bare back sticking to his sweaty chest like glue, him with his nose in her matted black hair as he nibbled on her earlobe. She could tell that her glasses were askew on her head, and only marveled that they were still in anywhere near the same place they'd been when she'd started her laughable attempt to end this... affair.

Fuck me forever. I'm cheating on the greatest man I've ever known.

Her first honest facing of the truth caused a pair of tears to crawl down her cheeks, though the hands possessively groping her heaving breasts, which were yellowing in small spots with faint bruises from the rough passion they'd been subjected to, helped her endure it. It's not over. I can fix this. I broke the deal, but I can make a new one. One that Ed can agree to. I'll give away the farm if I have to.

When one of the massaging, magical hands lifted, leaving the abandoned breast beneath it lonely and aching for it to return, then migrated south... well, the next hour spent putting the sofa springs to another stress test was just incidental at that point.

__________

Here it was. Day eight. D-day. One month was over. Michelle stood before her own front door and took a long, deep breath.

It was Friday morning, ten o'clock sharp. She was proud of that. This time, she'd stuck to the schedule. Yeah sure, maybe the last... four? Five? sessions had gone juuuust a bit over, but here and now, on the last of them, she made sure to definitively end it right on the dot.

Michelle Lawrence had graduated. Her training was complete, and it was time to show the man she loved above all others that she is, was, and always would be his. She just hoped that her throbbing sphincter wouldn't keep her from enjoying sitting in Ed's lap, which was her favorite seat.

Fucking Dom and his fucking last tribute. I can't believe I let... oh. Oops. As Michelle tried to surreptitiously reach past the hem of her tight little skirt to make an attempt to scoop away the jizz dribbling from her bare, abused-but-happy ass, she gave a reflexive giggle. Wow, would my face have been red. I really shouldn't have let him tear away my panties. Again.

She also shouldn't have acquiesced to the man's other demand and made a formal pledge that she would never let Ed have what she'd given Dom and Dom alone, even if her reward for the words had been... oh, just so, so very...

She shivered, then shook her head decisively. It's not a big deal. It's over. She didn't have to keep any stupid promises to her hot neighbor, even if the idea of completely reneging on an agreement instead of adjusting it didn't sit well with the inveterate negotiator.

After flinging the spunk into the grass and licking her fingers clean, Michelle turned the knob of her beautiful blue door and went back into her house, assuring herself with everything in her that this was Day One of the rest of her life. Never mind that Ed had been a ghost for the last three weeks, barely even crossing paths with her. Never mind that she, until that moment, had been completely unable to let Dom go. The contract was up. Her end was fulfilled, and now nothing hung over her head but what she owed her husband.

It's Day One of the rest of our lives. I know it. I can make this happen. Get ready, Edward Lawrence, your world is about to be fucking rocked!

The first thing that Michelle realized upon entering was that Ed was home. She could hear him moving around upstairs. That was a new one; he'd stuck to his guns the entire time and was absolutely nowhere near their entire neighborhood on Mondays and Fridays. Or those few, quick Tuesday nooners when Dom showed up at their door unannounced, but that was because he'd waited for Ed to leave, of course.

The second thing she realized was that there was something there for her, waiting on the table. Two envelopes, each with a lot of words on the front. One was a list of people interested in buying their home... and the other had a big, black word that seemed to be laughing at her; Divorce.

Michelle's heart nearly stopped, then her muscles did stop, and she collapsed to her knees as she started to hyperventilate. No, no, no, no no no nonononononono... Though all that came out of her was a raspy croak, her brain more than made up for it. Does he mean it doesn't he believe it's done I deserve it I love him he hates me I can fix it not too late your life is over so just end it for real he still loves me I know it...

The stream of consciousness raced unabated through her until she felt like her head was going to explode. Finally, she fought her rising gorge enough to hobble back to her feet and shoot a desperate look to the stairs.

Someone was coming down. That someone... was not alone.

The light, feminine, heartfelt laugh preceded the pair's appearance, so Michelle was already reeling back when Ed and Katja saw her. They both froze, both stared. The hands they held together squeezed each other tighter. Ed being Ed, he didn't look smug, or even annoyed. He just looked... regretful. Mournful.

Kat... well, Kat smiled. "Misha. We thought that you would be... putting in overtime." She glanced at a nearby clock very pointedly. "As you have been so often recently."

Michelle, one hundred percent, had completely forgotten about what was supposed to be happening between Kat and her husband--maybe... definitely... because she'd forced herself to--but she was given a real good fucking reminder now that she was seeing the wife of her lover in nothing but lacy red panties, the sun-kissed skin of her high and proud tits flushed to a delicate rose, and her golden locks jutting every which way; him with his still-engorged penis poking out of the hole in his boxers... glistening...

Michelle slowly shook her head. "We... it's done..." The next bit burst out of her before she could stop herself, and she locked eyes with Ed in disbelief, snarling the words through gritted teeth. "The two of you have been fucking?" Donning the crown of the biggest hypocrite ever born, Michelle Lawrence felt a deep anger and deeper hurt at seeing the man she loved with another woman. That the other woman was her own erstwhile bedmate was just a rotten cherry on top.

Ed's jaw only clenched, but Katja made up for his reticence. The sleek, glowing vision of perfection wrapped her arms around his waist tightly and pressed her bare chest to his sweaty pecs. As his arm unhesitatingly went around her back, she propped her chin on his shoulder and stared up at him in gushing, honest adoration. "Oh yes. For three weeks." The blonde's blue eyes danced and her grin was a beam of sunlight. "Only three weeks, and I was able to bring out the absolutely phenomenal lover in Edward."

Katja sighed and nuzzled her cheek on Ed's hard chest, then looked back at Michelle, whose mouth was working without producing a sound. "I have to ask, Misha, how long do you think it will take you to bring out the halfway decent husband in Dominik? The halfway decent human, even?" She smirked. "Perhaps... just a bit more than three weeks? I will honestly be interested to find out, because I've had years with no luck."

Michelle had heard about life flashing by all at once, and had always thought it was just something novelists and screenwriters used for effect. Not true. In that one, crystalline instant, memory-after-memory ran riot in her mind in an inferno that threatened to consumer her.

Ed driving her frantically to the hospital on their second date when she'd slipped and broken her leg. Ed staying with her, a woman practically a stranger, all night. Ed taxiing her around after for months. Her not being able to hold her tears when they made love for the first time and he called her gorgeous. Ed proposing. Ed vowing to be her true love forever. Their immaculate, transcendent honeymoon. Them driving the architect mad with their micromanaging as they built their home. The miscarriage, her finding out she could never have children, and Ed saving her from despair...

On and on. A lifetime of bliss that she had bafflingly, cruelly, eagerly thrown in the trash... and that Katja had plucked back out. Seeing them together, there was no doubt what they were to each other, and right then and there Michelle lost the battle with that aforementioned gorge, emptying her stomach all over the hardwood floor she had picked out herself years before.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the dissolving woman forced her eyes up to the... couple just in time to see Katja take Ed's face in her hands for a long, loving kiss.

"Oh fuck." Michelle found that her stomach wasn't completely empty. It was almost comical that the expletive was the last thing she uttered, but not the last thing out of her mouth, before she turned tail and ran from her home like it was on fire while trying not to slip on the disgusting pile of her shame, but no one was laughing.

Just like no one was telling her to come back.