Marital Lease

She instinctively pulled her hand from mine and sat up straight, wide-eyed. After a pregnant pause she said "You're going to fuck my ass, aren't you?"

"Maybe," I said, "although it's more likely that I'll use this butt plug on you while fucking your pussy," I continued in a monotone, picking the butt plug up from off the table and stroking it.

"Is the sex session going to be in the agreement too?" she asked.

"No; that would be unenforceable in the agreement. That's why the agreement will provide that I'll return the three pieces of jewelry to you within three years -- unless some arrangement to the contrary is made. I give you my word that after the weekend I mentioned that I'll give you the jewelry then."

"Can I think about it?" she asked.

"Sure -- take your time; I won't sell the jewelry unless you tell me for certain that you won't agree to my terms," I responded with a big smile.

As Denise left, her tears now dry, I quietly said, with my biggest smile that day, "Oh; one more thing. Bring an STD-free certificate with you if you agree to my terms -- there will be no condoms."

Not surprisingly, Denise called me the next day, agreeing to the terms. Before the end of the week we were at my attorney's office again; we signed the agreement in front of a notary, with color photos of the three pieces of jewelry attached. As we left the lawyer's office I asked Denise "do you have a convenient time for our weekend together?"

"How about the weekend of the 20th? I can have the certificate by then, and I can easily cancel anything that I have planned."

"Sounds good to me," I replied with a smile.

"You...you...aren't going to take your anger with my cheating out on me, are you Brian?" she asked with a scared look.

"I can't say that I won't take anger out on you -- but I swear that I won't hurt you, I'll feed you, and I won't do anything to you in public. This is solely for my enjoyment -- and hopefully you'll actually like it too."

"I hope that I will," she sheepishly replied, then kissed me on the cheek and took off.

The weekend of the 20th will be etched in my memory banks forever. Not only was it the best sexual experience of my life up until then, but it was also melancholy because it told both of us what might have been if Denise could just have kept her thighs together around other guys.

I fucked her pussy four times with a butt plug up her ass; after the second time she was asking for it. I fucked her twice while her hands and feet were handcuffed to the bed and she was blindfolded and gagged; one of those times it was her ass that I fucked. I was gentle and she admitted that it wasn't as bad as she thought that it would be although she had no interest in doing it again and she sucked my testicles until I agreed not to do it again.

I ate Denise so many times that she was begging for mercy. I fucked her in the shower -- and I fucked her bent over the kitchen table. Each and every fuck was fantastic as far as I was concerned, whether I was angry thinking of her betrayal, or gentle, or somewhere in-between.

When Denise left Monday morning there were tears in her eyes when she passionately kissed me. "I'm sorry," she moaned after she broke our kiss, and she scurried to her car. Well, maybe "scurried" isn't the right word, because she was walking bow-legged, and she did occasionally look at the three pieces of jewelry that she held tightly in her hand. My cock and balls were sore for a week afterward, but every twinge of pain caused me to smile. I was now ready to move on, hopefully wiser for the experience.

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

I had gotten a new job, a very lucrative one, a month after the divorce was final. Outside of work, however, the next nine months were anything but enjoyable. I was so defensive that I didn't really have a chance to establish another relationship, but that was OK since I was also scared in addition to defensive. I had just enough sex to remain sane. Then my new employer sent me to a week long combined conference and educational seminar.

While the conference/seminar was worthwhile, it was apparent that the majority of the attendees were there on the prowl for sex, not just information. Almost no one was local, and most were staying at the same hotel. During sessions, but especially after the business of the day had been concluded, I was approached by many females -- some brazen, some subtle. Unfortunately the ones that were physically attractive enough for me to be interested in were married -- which apparently didn't bother them, although it sure did bother me. Having gone through the pain of my wife cheating on me I wasn't about to do that to some other guy.

There was only one beautiful woman there that didn't hit on me in one way or another. She was by far the object of desire of essentially all of the males at the conference -- and maybe some females -- but even though she was single she was like a machine in shooting guys down. She would have been an Ace if a military pilot in wartime. Her name was Connie.

Connie was about as different physically from Denise as a woman could be and still be beautiful. She was about five ten, brunette, with big tits and a classic face, compared to Denise's five one, blond, small tits, and cute pixie face. What they had in common, physically, was a round ass (big for her size in Denise's case, and just plain enjoyably big in Connie's case) and sculptured thighs.

After a bad scene on Wednesday night in the hotel very large bar where I had to all but scrape two drunk married women off of me, and Connie threw a drink in the face of a guy who didn't want to take "No" for an answer, as I sat in a lecture hall Thursday morning, waiting for a course to start, Connie walked in and sat next to me.

"Hi," I said, extending my hand, "I'm Brian," not really necessary since that's what my name tag said.

"Hi, Brian, I'm Connie," she replied with a smile as she shook my hand. "It's no accident that I'm sitting next to you, Brian," she grinned.

"How's that?" I asked, grinning back.

"You're about the only guy here who hasn't hit on me -- and I want to know what about you makes you so irresistible to married women that you have to fight them off."

"Yeah -- I've noticed that you have to fight more guys off than I have women. It seems that everyone, regardless of marital status, is on the prowl here."

"Not you?" she slyly smiled.

"Not with married women. My ex-wife cheated on me and it has taken me a long time to recover from that, and I'm not about to do that to some other guy. Plus, no single women here are attractive to me -- present company excluded. However, you were way too busy for me to even approach; plus you looked like an Ace gunner."

"Ace gunner?" she inquired with a perplexed look.

"You're obviously an expert on shooting guys down," I replied with a diabolical smile. She returned my smile with an even more diabolical one.

During that session there was no doubt that Connie wasn't shy about giving me a good look at her fabulous thighs, and we often flirted under our breath. She wasn't interested in the next session, but we made arrangements to meet for lunch, which turned out to be an extremely worthwhile endeavor. She was obviously interested in me, and I in her.

Connie and I had dinner Thursday night at a restaurant far from the hotel and went for a long walk afterward. We kissed goodnight. At lunch Friday she asked what my plans were for the evening. "Well, I didn't arrange to stay Friday night after the last session, so I'll probably take off about six -- I have late checkout. How about you, Connie?"

"I've got my room through Friday night. Why don't you leave your stuff in my room after you check out, and we can go to dinner Friday night before you leave."

"That would be great," I smiled, "as long as you let me buy.'

"Agreed," she grinned as she squeezed my hand.

Connie had four glasses of wine at dinner -- but I don't think that made any difference in what transpired Friday night. I think that she was pre-disposed to do exactly what she did -- and I certainly wasn't complaining.

When we got back to her room on Friday night after dinner she laid a mega-passionate kiss on me, and almost sucked my tonsils into her mouth. When she finally let me up for air the lust was evident in her eyes. "I need you to stay here tonight," she growled. "You won't be sorry."

"Of that I'm sure," I growled back as I unceremoniously popped all of the buttons on her blouse with one yank, had her bra unclasped no more than two seconds later thereby exposing her pendulous tits, and shortly afterwards I was sucking on one nipple and twisting the other.

As Connie bounced up and down on my upright flag pole while her powerful thighs were clamped on either side of my torso and her magnificent mammoth tits were flopping in my face, for the first time in years I didn't think of Denise for even a millionth of a second while my knob was being polished. After Connie came hard once, I flipped her over, got behind her, and pounded the shit out of her as her epic tits slapped together like a freight train crashing into a wall. I deposited as large a load as I ever had into her pulsating pussy as she screamed in orgasm.

We were able to extend her room for both Saturday and Sunday nights, and by the time that we were adjacent our separate cars getting ready to leave on Monday morning we knew as much about each other as most people learn in a year. Of course this included knowing where all of each other's erogenous zones were and what positions and activities made our mate cum the hardest. Once I wore out her pussy, titty-fucking her was over-the-top fantastic (Denise hadn't been equipped for titty-fucking).

"Are you just going to exit my life now that you've had your way with me?" she cooed as we hugged at her car.

"Actually, I've quickly become addicted to you," I chuckled. "You're going to have a hard time getting rid of me."

"What makes you think that I want to get rid of you?" she chortled.

"You only let me suck on your nipples for ten minutes this morning," I snickered.

"That's because you sucked and pinched them raw, you asshole," she fake snarled as she playfully grabbed my balls. "I noticed that you begged off when I tried to suck your testicles, dipshit."

"That's because you drained them and now they're just inert masses of protoplasm."

"Maybe we can do something about that if you come to visit me next weekend," she chuckled, planting another passionate kiss on me.

Connie lived about eighty miles from me. We commuted, switching whose apartment we spent the weekend at, one week to the other for about three months. We got tired of it, and tired of not having the opportunity for sex every night, so when she got another job that was twenty miles closer to my office than her previous one, we bought a condo together almost exactly between our offices.

Connie was the only woman I had ever been with that was as good a fuck as Denise. Plus, she was the anti-Denise in so many ways, not just her looks but also her interests, intelligence, and friends, that she set me at ease. I fell hard.

Although I didn't really focus on it, or agonize about it, at the time, I was surprised that my friends and family were not as enthusiastic about Connie as I thought that they would be. Since she was also a divorcee -- she told me early on that her husband had cheated on her -- we wed in a simple ceremony with only a couple of dozen people in attendance about three months after we bought the condo together.

I apparently had not learned anything as a result of my divorce from Denise. I was always the trusting gullible clueless hubby, although I had perhaps more reason to be with Connie than with Denise since it appeared that Connie had shown herself impervious to being hit on at the conference where we met. I took pride in all of the looks that Connie got from admiring males, but truly believed that she had eyes only for me.

I very was happy with Connie. While sex with her wasn't as often or freaky as with Denise there seemed to be more love involved, and our libidos seemed to be in perfect sync. Connie simply adored cuddling after an invigorating sex session and having her big nipples sucked while she played with my testicles.

There was only one drawback to living with Connie that was of any consequence to me (I ignored all minor things). Her business normally required her to travel two or three nights in a row once every two weeks. The welcome-home sex was so stupendous, however, that even though I didn't like it, I learned to live with it without complaint.

Things with Connie went so well that after we had been married about two years we wanted to start a family, so Connie went off the pill. Somehow knowing that I might impregnate her amped me up even more than usual, and I was enjoying the best overall sex of my life. Then the roof fell in!

Connie had been in San Francisco Monday through Wednesday nights, and was getting home early Thursday afternoon. Her promise when we talked on the phone Wednesday night to fuck my brains out Thursday night when she returned had me so jazzed up that I left work early on Thursday, hours before she was expecting me. When I got to our condo and crept through the master bedroom I could hear the shower running. Her smartphone and open suitcase were on the bed. My smile turned upside down when I couldn't help but see a box of condoms in her open luggage.

I picked up the box; it said "twelve" on it; there were seven remaining. As a lump formed in my throat her cellphone buzzed -- I looked at the caller ID. It was an abortion clinic in a suburb of San Francisco. Of course I didn't answer it, but my head was spinning; I almost collapsed onto the bed, and was sitting, dazed, with the box of condoms in one hand and the smartphone in the other when -- I don't know how much longer later -- Connie came walking into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her and drying her hair.

Connie froze when she saw me -- probably with tears just below the surface of my eyes. She put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Don't be upset, darling. I get so lonely on trips that I often need companionship otherwise I just can't sleep. I always use a condom and I never have sex with others except when I'm travelling. You keep me so satisfied at home that you've spoiled me and make me need company for a night or two on the road."

"What?" I exclaimed, not believing what I just heard!

"It doesn't mean anything, darling -- I love only you."

I shook my head staring into space. Connie looked a little nervous, but she was far from flustered. Then she apparently noticed that I was also holding her smartphone.

"Why are you cradling my smartphone darling?"

"Why...what...why in the hell would an...an... abortion clinic be calling you?" I stuttered.

"Uh...well when I was on a trip shortly after I went off birth control a condom broke. When I found out two weeks later that I was pregnant, of course I didn't want to take the chance that the baby wasn't yours, so Monday I had an abortion. The clinic probably called to make its normal follow-up inquires to be sure that I don't have any complications," she replied. Again, she was a little nervous but otherwise in complete control.

Considering all of the things that I could have said next I was surprised when out came "I thought that they could run a DNA test in the womb!"

"Yes...well, to be honest...actually the DNA test came out that it wasn't your fetus, that's why I had the abortion."

Seeing the totally gobsmacked look on my face, and seeing that I had involuntarily dropped both the condom box and the smartphone, Connie let her towel fall off of her and sat next to me on the bed and put her arm around me and kissed me on the cheek. "I won't be travelling for a month, and I'm sure that will be enough time for your little swimmers to make it to one of my eggs," see cooed.

That did it -- I was in some bizarro world. When I looked her in the eye, a coy smile on her face, rage started to build; then a complete sense of loss; then puke started rising (I didn't need an ipecac for that). I made it to the toilet just in time.

After I rinsed out my mouth and splashed cold water on my face I returned to the bedroom, grabbed a duffle bag and stuffed it with clothes. As I turned to exit the room Connie was standing naked blocking the doorway. "Don't be like that, honey," she pled. "Let's cuddle and talk this out."

"Get out of my way, Connie or I'll move you out!" I snapped. She remained calm.

"Brian, you're the greatest guy in the world. There is no way that you'll hurt me; please, let's lie down on the bed and talk about this."

I dropped the duffle bag and lifted her 140 pounds up by the arms. I normally would not have had the strength to do that, but in my present rage I obviously did. I moved her out of the doorway, picked up the duffle bag, and exited the room to her pleas -- still in control, not frantic -- of "Brian, come back; don't be like that; please honey let's talk..." before I slammed the front door to the condo closed.

While I immediately threw my duffle bag in the trunk of my car I didn't drive right away. I was too upset and would have wrapped myself around a tree. I walked for a good hour, my mind in turmoil for the first fifty minutes. When I finally gained some clarity it was still only about 4:00 p. m. so I called Sandra Shark, J. D. to get an appointment to see her. Hearing my frantic voice on the phone she agreed to skip lunch the next day to see me. I went to a hotel.

I blurted out my story to Sandra in the first five minutes that I saw her. With raised eyebrow she said "Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em, don't you Brian."

"Apparently I am incapable of evaluating people," I moaned. I suddenly realized that I was hungry -- in my malaise I hadn't really had dinner, and just a piece of fruit for breakfast. "Can I treat you to lunch, Sandra? I'm starving and I don't want to be responsible for you missing lunch either."

"OK -- there's a deli two doors down from the entrance to my building. It will be quick. Let's go there."

Sandra and I chatted while we ate Rueben sandwiches. When we returned to her office she laid the cold hard facts on me. "This breakup could be even worse than the one with Denise because you and she own the condo together -- it isn't just a matter of letting the lease on an apartment run out. Do you think that she'll fight the divorce?"

I sighed. "Probably; but do your best."

"Also, I think that we should just provide irreconcilable differences as the cause, not adultery, because unlike the situation with Denise you don't have real proof -- just her admissions."

"But how about the abortion records?"

"She can probably weasel out of that too -- or it will be a long hard fight even if she ultimately can't."

"OK -- do whatever you think is best; when can you have her served?"

"Will she be in the office today?"

"I think so?"

"I'll cancel my 2:00 p. m. consultation and get it done this afternoon. Will you be staying at the condo?"

"No -- I can't go through again what I went through with Denise. I have more money now so I'll stay in a hotel tonight, and try and get some cheap furnished apartment tomorrow."

As I got up to leave Sandra gave me a big hug and whispered into my ear: "Even though your last divorce was a pain in my ass, I like you and feel sorry for you, so I'll do the best that I can to minimize your hurt."

When she broke away I said "Thank you so much."

As I readjusted my pants upon leaving her office I was grateful that Sandra was as competent as she was and was attuned to my pain.

Connie had made one call to my cellphone in the morning before I went to see Sandra. Her message (since I didn't answer it) simply said "Please don't do anything rash, Brian. I already miss you. We're so great together, don't ruin things. I won't bug you, but please call me."