Pam is a character from a couple chapters of 'Epiphanous'. Her circumstance fueled a storyboard in my mind that I think was worth exploring. This is not a story of great wrongs and retribution. There is no bitch burning and from my perspective there is no judgement of right or wrong. These are people who might do what others would not or not do what others might rush into.

There were no real people harmed in the writing of this story and it is not a collection of my experiences in any way except in understanding the emotions involved. I am going to leave anonymous commenting open for now but will probably delete those comments that are not constructive and adding to any fruitful discussion.

This could have gone into 'Loving Wives' but I think it fits much better into the 'Romance' category even though the character is pulled from a story in the former.


David from The Epiphanous Spouses Pt. 6

When we entered the hotel I noticed Kiera sitting at the bar talking with a couple of men but she didn't see me come in. Rather than distract her, I went up the elevator with Pam still at my side. She had left her work case in my room rather than lug it to her home before we left. When we entered the room, she went to the suite bar and poured herself and me a glass of wine and stretched out on the chaise. I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a pair of shorts and a polo for comfort. When I came out of the bedroom, she looked like she was about to fall fast asleep. I moved her drink out of her hand and to the table and scooped her up in my arms before taking her into the bedroom.

"Why David, are you inviting me to spend the night again?"

"Pam, dear, if I let you out the door, you'd fall asleep and be in the ditch before you hit the drive. You need a good night's sleep."

I laid her down and began undressing her and removing her clothes. It was definitely not an unpleasant chore. She sat up and helped me with her bra and when she laid back down I tucked my thumbs into the waistband of her lace panties and slipped them off her perfect ass. I then bent down, kissed her belly and then her lips and told her to sleep tight.

"Motherfucker" she whispered and then pulled the sheet up over her.

I think she was asleep before I ever got out the door.



I think back to those disturbing thoughts on occasion. It isn't an often occurrence and now, with the passing of several years, it is mostly a sad remembrance. I had just finished what I thought was a mind blowing sexual tryst with my regular lover and had barely towel dried my hair when I received the call. It was from Bob's sister, Margo.

"Pam, sit down, OK?"

I glanced over at my rendition of Sven or at least what I pictured a Sven to look like and he had his monkey sex grin on his face.

"Margo, I'm OK. What's going on?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before I heard her weeping, almost uncontrollably, and I instinctively knew my worse fear had come home. There is something in a soulmate's heart that knows without speaking. Many of us understand it and some just go with it but when the strike to the heart comes, it is indescribable.

"Pami, it is Bob. We lost him. He was killed."

The long pause was on my end that time and I looked back at the empty shell of Sven and felt as if I had been suspended in some sort of trap. He just lay there naked looking back at me and the overwhelming urge to express my modesty with whatever cover I could lay hands on expressed itself with a grasp of the bedcovers.

"Margo ... I'll call you ..."

I set the phone down and without any emotion, at least any that I could reveal, I told the man next to me that I needed to go. An emergency had come up. A bomb had gone off. An asteroid had crashed to Earth. Any excuse to leave would do but the truth.

In the fog of building grief, I dressed and gathered my belongings before escaping to the long corridor and then to my car. The human psyche can take only so much. I sat in in the parking garage of that hotel and I burst into my own deluge of tears and weeping. My body heaved with grief and gut wrenching sobs deep from where the intimate soul abides. There is nothing like it really. The wail of grief is a heart stricken sound, one usually reserved for the loss of parents, close siblings and friends. This grief was worse. It was for my husband, Robert Daniels, Bob to me.

I called Margo back when I finally got home but only after I somehow pulled myself together in order to have the call. She is the greatest sister-in-law a woman could ever have, bar none. Bob and I had an agreement. If anything ever happened to him, the Marine Corp would notify Margo first and she would then tell me. He didn't think I could handle it directly and he was probably right. Margo and I had our own agreement. She would call me no matter where I was or what I was doing or when. She also knew that I would have to call her back if she ever had to tell me.

Margo was his older sister who had raised him after their parents were killed when he was fourteen. She was seven years older and despite her youth, persevered in keeping them together. I always looked to her as our rock when we needed one and this was no different. She handled all the funeral arrangements and literally held my hand through the worse. I would have been lost without her. She carried me through that first night and propped me up through the succession of days that followed.

She and I had a sit down some months later. I was quite depressed still and having a difficult time coming to terms with the loss. I got to the point where I would uncork a bottle every night and finish it. Being in the midst of Napa didn't help matters. Whatever the case, I was drinking too much and staying in all the time. Margo walked me through that as well. I think she identified what was eating at me.

"Pam, it's the arrangement that's killing you now, isn't it?"

The Arrangement. That is a good way to explain it. Bob was sent to Afghanistan twice. He was away from me for a total of two years by the time he was killed although he was back a month or so between assignments. His unit worked out of Böblingen, Germany and would rotate into the field for deployments. Before he left, we had a long sit down and most people can't understand this but Bob insisted I find a safe, satisfying fuck buddy while he was gone. There was no love involved. It would be nothing more than a good fuck.

The problem, if it can be called that, is that Bob and I were both fucking insatiable. Yeah, it sounds like an old cliché but it is true. When we were together it's what we did for recreation. We fucked each other silly. Everything was on the table between us and I like to think we had the most satisfying love life any couple could have. When two people are wired like that, everything is perfect until something throws a wrench in the works. That's what Afghanistan did. So, he sat me down on his lap and told me to find someone safe, satisfying and discreet. The only rules he gave me were that it had to be safe with someone I trusted and he didn't know and that I would never bring him into the house. Oh, and no falling in love. That would really fuck it up. I ended up telling him I would think about it but I didn't know if I was comfortable with my American Hero fucking some Fräulein on the other side of the world. That was the other side of the coin, of course.

"Margo, you remember when Bob came back that first time? We had some issues to hammer out. You know, I had been sleeping with Jared and it was getting to be a regular thing. There was no love thing there. It was just a good physical fit and it worked. But I still felt like I was cheating and I knew Bob was fucking somebody when he came out of the field. Well, we talked through that and he made me realize that he was not threatened by Jared. He didn't want to meet him or know him but he wasn't threatened at all. He knew I was his wife, his woman and no man would ever take me from him.

I don't know that I felt the same for his Hilda or Ingrid or whatever the fuck her name was. Whatever the case, he knew what we needed at the time and he was right. We both probably would have cheated on each other even though we never would have done that if we were together.

Does that make sense, Margo?"

She looked at me and just smiled.

"Fuck, yes, it makes sense but you know not many people could have done that and still had a marriage!"

"Oh I know that but Bob and I were special. I'll never have another man like him and Margo, at this point, I don't ever want another man in my life like that."

"Pam, you don't mean that. Someday, not now maybe, but someday, you will meet another man who won't be Bob but he'll be different and just as good for you."

I think I just laughed for a while but I also knew deep in my heart I was right and Margo was wrong on that count. As for the Arrangement, I look back on it and I don't feel guilty. I simply remember the good memories and cherish them. The one thing I wish hadn't done was take that fucking call from Margo right after I had just fucked my Sven substitute. I felt soiled and dirty in my grief and that took a long time to get over.

"Margo, when you called me that night, I had just finished fucking another man and it has been eating at me ever since. The guilt of what I did while my husband was dying or already dead, Jesus, I don't know. It's killing me."

"Baby girl, look at me. For all we know, Bob had done the same thing a while before that. Would you want him to feel the guilt that you have? Of course not. So toughen up, get back in control in your life and let's conquer the world or at least our little part of it, OK?"

I looked her right in the eyes and kissed her full on the lips and cried but they were tears of relief more than anything else.

Well, I got control of the drinking, processed my grief and started to take a fresh look at life. One of the decisions I was sticking to was that I was not going to remarry again. That didn't mean my libido disappeared. It meant I didn't want another husband. I only have one husband and his name is Robert Daniels. I also didn't want a shrine erected for Bob. I wanted him in my private place and because of that I started using my maiden name, Giardone.

My fitness training picked up and I started getting really buff. I could fit into anything. The job was great. I was traveling around a good deal. Life felt good and then my sister decided to go and get married and remind me of what I lost, my Bob and the closeness we shared.

I was the maid of honor at her wedding to a wonderful man named Stephen Hitchcock. He reminded me of Bob in a way. He was a former Navy pilot and now had a real estate investment firm that he ran out of Clearlake, just north of Napa. By all accounts he was doing great, Cindy was head over heels in love and he had a comfortable swagger about him. I remember thinking Cindy landed herself a bull of a man and she confirmed that in some of our later conversations.

The reception was a wild party, a major kegger with several of Stephen's old navy buddies. I knew most of the people on my sister's side of the invite list so I was comfortable. Bob had been gone for a couple years by then and I had compartmentalized him into my own private space. The tears were gone. I wasn't lonely but fuck, I was beginning to get horny and with all these navy men around I started thinking of the opportunities for a bit of recreation. Then I was distracted.

Cindy pointed him out. He was standing next to one of the caterer's tables. As a man he was tall, slim but very fit looking with sandy brown hair. Next to him was an attractive woman, equally trim and fit along with two beautiful children, a girl and boy that looked to be the same age or close.

"That's David, Stephen's closest friend, and his wife, Marylyn. The two adorable kids are the twins, Joshua and Julie. Let me introduce you."

Cindy made the introductions and I hit it off with all of them. Marylyn was a training buff like me and David was a distance runner. They lived in Tennessee with both of them working in Finance. It was the kids that captivated me the most. That is what I wanted with Bob more than anything and these two were at that adolescent age that I loved.

They were thirteen years old and trying to be all of twenty four. I couldn't help but see myself in them struggling at that awkward age where the body is trying to be an adult but the innocence of youth is still clutching at them. As for David and Marylyn, they were a beautiful couple, the picture of what I had envisioned for myself once upon a time.

Eventually the kids ran off with new found friends, Cindy excused herself to attend to other well-wishers and the three of us sat down and opened a new Cab.

"Here's to the happy couple!" David toasted as we touched glasses. I looked at both of them and back to Cindy and her new husband. Marylyn must have noticed the bit of melancholy because she took my hand in hers.

"Cindy told us how wonderful you were and how much you love kids. Maybe you might like to visit us sometime back east. I think Stephen and Cindy are coming out sometime next month."

I caught a glance of the twins off to the side and told her I'd like that very much and David made another toast to good friendship. We chatted for a long time after that and when I excused myself, I felt refreshed with no melancholy lingering over the festivities. The cloud dissipated. I made the rounds, settled down with a table of Stephen's navy buddies and when the evening rolled around, I left ... but not alone.

"Oh my god ... just like that and don't fucking stop."

His tongue and lips were attacking my aroused clitoris while a couple of fingers thrust in and up on the roof of my vagina. All I could do was run my fingers through his hair and hope to keep that action pressed against my pussy.

"Mmmmm that is so fucking good ..."

Then I felt that first wave begin, that first quiver of a building orgasm. With his fingers in my pussy and a thumb buried in my ass, I fucked an orgasm onto his face and clutched the bedsheets to keep me grounded.

"Motherfucker ... oh my god .... Fuck me, Baby .. fuck me now .. please"

My sailor boy did just that. He raised himself up, rubbed the circumcised head of his fat prick up and down the entrance to my wet kitty and slowly sunk every bit of himself into me. Then his cadence began and I fucked my ass up off the bed to meet every stroke until he just held me down and fucked it. He took me like I wanted to be taken and when it was his turn, he pulled out and brought his cock to my mouth where I milked his seed onto my lips.

I rolled over and pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it. It's the only time I ever smoke, the culmination of a really good fuck. There was no love making in this. It was pure fuck and the first time since the night I received the call. To tell the truth, I loved it and wanted more but I wanted it strictly on my terms. It was a physical desire.

He looked at me laying there. "You do know that you are the finest piece of ass in California right now?"

His blue eyes were sincere. His hair without a few specs of grey belied his age. His ample prick attested to his youthfulness. He was also smitten and looking for more.

"I'd like to see you again, Pam. Would that work?"

I didn't want to throw water on him. He had just jumped my bones as good as anybody and I was basking in post coitus pleasure for the first time in two years so I just said "Maybe, let's see what it looks like later. Right now, I just wanna do it again."

That's what we did. I sucked his cock to a wonderful erection and he took me hard, from behind. He was an alpha fuck and what I wanted, no, needed that night. I slept the night with him in the hotel bed and rose up before him in the morning. When I left his sleeping form, I kissed him on the forehead and slipped out the door.

I never did see him again. He was a pretty convenience that night, an attractive man, a good fuck but not really anything more. Cindy told me later that he asked after me a few times when he saw Stephen but I didn't hear from him or reach out to him either. It was best that way.

Following the wedding, I did take a trip east with Cindy and Stephen to visit with David and Marylyn. It became the first of several along with their trips west. I seemed to bond well with the twins too and at some point I was able to talk them into visiting me in Napa. I didn't have a big spread but I had a couple of horses next to a winery that a guy took care of when I was working or traveling. There was plenty of room. At first, Marylyn came out with them but before long the kids wanted to come out during vacations. I was all for it. David and Marylyn didn't mind and the kids were ecstatic. They were in Napa riding horses during the day, making friends in the neighborhood and having a great time. I took them into the city when I could for the sights and attractions. Stephen and Cindy just showered them with attention when they were around. So, I ended up being a second momma to them and I loved it.

The next few years were good ones. I worked as a wine consultant for several hotels and resorts in northern California, basically from the Bay area north. It was a profitable gig with several regular clients that kept me busy plus it gave me good access to the wineries. At some point, most of the business came by exclusive referral which is a very good thing in this business. It means you are pretty much at the top of the game. It also doesn't hurt to look really good in a short black dress and heels.

I took on an occasional lover when I felt good about it but it wasn't frequent. I just wanted a really good fuck buddy and most guys wanted more. I also didn't want an empty one-nighter like with sailor boy. I pretty much coasted like this for a couple of years until I met Jim.

He was the beverage manager for one of the larger downtown hotels in the city. Somehow I just had that older man thing going at the time and he fit the bill. He was a big man in more ways than one. He stood at 6'6" and weighed about 250 but none of it was fat and for a 45 year old guy, that's pretty good. He also had the stamina of a 25 year old which was VERY good. Add all that up and throw in well hung to boot.

Funny thing about him was that for all his macho presence and physical attributes, Jim was a lover. He wasn't an alpha bull although when he had his fuck game going he could compete. What he was good at was bringing me to complete satisfaction and do it over and over. I had a vaginal orgasm with the man every single time we fucked, no exceptions. Whatever other talents he may have had, satisfying a woman was at the top of the list.

So we were regular lovers for a couple of years, usually twice a week at his place or mine. What brought it to a halt was his wife. This was the wife I didn't know anything about.

"What in hell are you doing in my bed?" she asked incredulously.

"And who in hell are you?" I replied.

I was sitting cross legged on Jim's bed, topless, with my tablet in front of me and a cup of hot cocoa on the side table. Jim was in the shower and it was around 8 in the morning.

"Well, to start with, I'm the owner of this god damn house. For that matter, I own the damn bed you have your naked ass parked on."

I could sense this was going south real quick. Jim was still singing up a storm in the shower, oblivious to the carnage about to unfurl around him.

"I'm also that son of a bitch's wife. Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Pam and I'm, well, I don't know anymore." I stuck out my hand to shake but withdrew it pretty quickly when I saw the steam coming out of her ears. "I didn't know he was married, honest. I really didn't."

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