Planning Ahead

All persons having sex in this fictional story are over eighteen years old.

My wife Carol and I had been married for twelve years when the abnormal test results came in. She'd been sick for awhile off and on and she could never quite get completely well. After several appointments and prescriptions her doctor ordered the testing done. All signs pointed to cancer. Some cancers can be fought and a person could live for years after treatment. Not Carol's, hers was pancreatic cancer and it was a killer. Pancreatic cancer has very few symptoms early on. Once a victim does begin to show signs of problems the cancer is far advanced.

Carol and I were given instructions to get our affairs in order as soon as possible. She wouldn't have much time. Our children, Jimmy who was ten and Ali who was nine were told of their mother's outcome, crushing their souls. They clung to their mother as she lay in her hospital bed each day. We all cried together in that hospital room and eventually a room in hospice when Carol declared that she'd had enough.

"I love you all so much but this sorrow has to stop. I want to hear about your futures, without me. Lets make plans right now, so you'll know if 'that's what mom would want' or not and move forward. I don't want you to remember me like this. We always had fun as a family."

I went to the nurses station and brought back pens and paper to write down what plans each of us had for the future. Carol even took one giving me a tearful wink.

Jimmy went first reading out his plans. "I want to be a firefighter and save people. I want to..." Carol cut him off.

"Saying that you 'want to' is a wish, Jimmy. Please change all of your plans to 'going to' and set a course to achieve them."

"I am going to be a firefighter and save people. I'm going to meet a girl who likes sports and marry her. I'm going to own a big house and a Porsche."

"Those are very good goals, Jimmy. I think that the 'girl who likes sports' might want a Porsche too." Carol replied smiling at him.

"What about you Ali?" Carol asked.

"I am going to be a doctor and help cure people. I'm going to marry a tall handsome boy who likes to hug and kiss like you and dad do. I'm going to have babies and live in the big house next to ours so dad can come over and visit us whenever he wants."

That brought out the tears again but, not so much for our loss as for Ali's caring nature.

"What about you dad? What's on your list?" Jimmy asked.

"I am going to raise you and your sister to be loving, caring people and help you achieve your goals. I'm going to help grandma as she gets older. I'm going to fix up that old Mustang that's out in the barn and get it running."

"You forgot one, Eric. You need to add 'I am going to find a loving, caring new wife to love and to share my life with'." Carol said with determination.

The tears poured from my face as I whispered "I can't put that on my list."

"You have to dad. That's what mom wants. You have to put it on your list!" Jimmy said getting louder and more emotional as he spoke."

"I just can't." I barely choked out.

Ali walked over to me, put her hand on my shoulder and took the pen and paper from me. She wrote 'I will find a nice lady, like mom to marry.' and handed the paper back to me. "We'll help you dad." she said through her own tears.

"Look at me, Eric." I looked up at Carol with the tears still rolling down my face. "That's what I want, Honey. The kids don't need a depressed, broken father trudging through the rest his life. Find someone who makes you laugh. Don't let me become a martyr to you."

Carol died two days after we'd made our lists. It remains the saddest day of my life. My babies were crushed. There are no words that could convey the amount of sorrow everyone felt the whole week after she passed. If I didn't have the kids to live for I'd have joined her in the afterlife. As it was I felt like I would never be happy again.

My mom was the angel holding us together. I asked her if she would move in with us for awhile to help with the kids right after the funeral. My dad had passed away a few years before from an industrial accident, so she knew the steps of grieving we'd go through. She withstood all the anger, sorrow and self destruction both myself and the kids threw at her and gave us only love.

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

I was lost after Carol's death. Just after the first anniversary of my wife's death my mom took me aside and said that I was killing my family. The kids were emotional wrecks, I never left the house and she was getting more depressed every day watching us disintegrate. She told me to go out and get fucked, at any cost, on Saturday.

"Go fuck some woman, any woman and don't come back until morning, Eric. I'm serious. Carol was a wonderful woman but she was only that, a woman. Half the world is female and you need let one of them get close to you. Fucking is a quick way to do that, so as your mom I'm telling you to go get fucked!" she had tears in her eyes but gave a little chuckle at the irony of a mother telling her son to go use some woman for his pleasure.

"I wouldn't have any idea how or where to even find a woman let alone one willing to have sex with me, Ma."

"Go down to Plato's. That's a pick up joint isn't it?"

"I think so. What if I just can't do it, mom. I don't want to start crying in the middle of a bar."

"No crying would be a bad way to pick up a woman. Don't do that." she laughed. "You can do this, Eric. Maybe, get angry at what has happened and take your revenge out on some poor girl. I don't mean hurt her, but give her an anger bang."

"How is it that my mother knows what an 'anger bang' is?" I asked in shock.

"I've watched a few movies, son. I'm up on things. Now, go get dressed and get your ashes hauled! I don't want to see you until morning. The kids and I will be fine."

Plato's six months later:

I saw her come in. She was looking for something or should I say someone. It didn't take her long to decide that I was that someone to give her that something and she strutted over and sat down beside me at the bar. Just that quickly my activities for the evening had been decided. We both knew that a few hours from now she would be driving home, after several orgasms, with a naughty secret that she would either hide from or describe in detail to her husband.

This was a typical Saturday night for me for the last six months or so. I sit at the bar for a few drinks and then go off and fuck some married woman. Not that I care if they're married or not, but in this bar, more often than not, they are married. This bar has become sort of my sanctuary. In here I'm the arrogant guy who seduces women and uses them like sluts. Outside of here I'm still a broken widower raising two kids without their mother.

Hanging out at Plato's is how I spend a great majority of my Saturday nights. I don't invite my friends along on my nights out since I would leave them stranded when my next conquest came along. My buddies wouldn't care and would probably even be happy for me, but I really don't want them to see this part of my life.

I prefer a certain type of woman for my trysts. I've had some wonderful experiences with heavier women, not obese, but lets say chunky. The old saying that big women 'try harder' when having sex is true, but I would amend that to 'care about their partner more' because the ones I've been with have made sure that both of us had equal amounts of fun. More appreciative would be the word I would use.

If I would have limited myself to only thin, athletic women I would have missed out on Michelle. She was married, of course, but her husband encouraged her to fulfill her wanton desires on the odd Saturday night and she zeroed her sights in on me one Saturday.

Michelle was forty-five, ten years older than me. She was 5'6" or so and around 160lbs with D-cup breasts that were full, responsive and a joy to fuck and suck. Her kids were off at college and she said that her husband Charles wanted to add some zip to their sex life. Why the blooming idiot would ever let Michelle get out of his bed and into another man's to 'spice up' their sex life was one for a psychologist.

I don't know how Michelle acted in the bedroom with Charles but she wanted to be a submissive slut for me. She told me that right at the bar when we met. She described in detail what our whole relationship for the next month of Saturdays would be and told me that at the end of a month it would end. She loved Charles and their agreement was that she could only be with the same person for one month.

When I tell you that she wanted to be a submissive slut that was with a capital 'S'. The first Saturday Michelle had me 'force' her to have sex with men, women and both all while tied to a bed in a hotel room. Another Saturday she had me tie her to the bed and tickle her with a feather until she came. She was so excited it didn't take very long. The third Saturday she covered herself in massage oil and had me fuck her in every hole until I came. That third hole took me awhile to get to completion but she came six or seven times during my efforts.

On our last Saturday together we had a normal one-on-one night of loving sex. In the morning she sucked me to completion and then we got in the shower and gently cleaned each other kissing throughout.

"Michelle, I have had more fun with you as my slut than at any other time in my life and last night was so wonderful and loving. Is there no way we could continue this? Would Charles understand?" l asked pleadingly, surprising myself.

"Eric, I love my husband. I won't hurt him and I'll never leave him. I explained all this to you at the beginning." she tried sounding stern but tears were flowing down her cheeks and she looked so sorrowful.

"Have you spoken to him? I care for you, Michelle. I can see that you care for me also. Don't deny that you do. Why can't we just continue like we are?" I was nearly begging now. What was going on with me?

"Please just let me go, Eric. You don't understand. It wasn't supposed to be like this! It was just supposed to be fun and exciting. I do care for you, Eric but I'm married to Chuck." Michelle was crying fully now. She looked tormented.

"If you are going to leave and never see me again then I want you to know that I love you, Michelle. No one planned this..."

Michelle cut me off. "Chuck did." she sobbed.

"What?! What are you saying? Is he trying to get rid of you?"

"He's dying, Eric...Oh, god I can't lose him!" she had completely broken down now.

"Why would he want you to go slutting around if he was dying!? I don't understand? Does he not love you? Is he trying to shove you away so you won't get hurt?" I wanted to understand but right now Michelle needed comforting so I simply held her.

After a few minutes Michelle gathered herself enough to speak. "I have fallen in love with you too, Eric. That was his plan. Whenever Charles and I made our arrangement for me to be a 'hotwife' it was just going to be one weekend. Chuck is the one that set it at one month because he said that one weekend wouldn't be enough to fulfill all my desires. I told him that I thought that timeframe as too long because I didn't want to get too involved with anyone else.

I made all those adventures for us so I wouldn't get too close to you. But you were always there with me, keeping me safe, caring for me afterwards, looking in my eyes and giving me all those damn orgasms.

Chuck is the one that picked you out at the bar. He told me to just be bold and tell you right away that I wanted to be your slut for the next month. He was confident that you would go along with that. I'm not sure if any man would turn that down, but he knew that you wouldn't." she had stopped crying now.

"So he was trying to fix you up with someone before he died? Why the 'hotwife' stuff then? Why not just have a single friend start hanging around more often to get close to you?" I had so many questions for this guy. Maybe I needed to speak with him.

"Charles knew I would mourn him and keep everyone at arms length so he decided that I needed to take a lover. That way you would already be close to me when he died and there would be no mourning to get past to be intimate." she had a sad smile thinking about Charles' plan.

"How long, Michelle? How long does he have?"

It took most of her strength to sob out "Two or three months."

"I want to speak with Charles."

"Charles said that sending me off to slut around with you was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He said that he would kick your ass if he was able and he sure doesn't want to talk to you." Michelle sternly said.

"Where is he Michelle!? I'm going to speak with him whether he wants to or not. He is the one that set all this up."

"Please don't upset him Eric just let him be in his last days."

"I'm sorry Michelle but if his plan was for us to be together after he's gone then he shouldn't mind speaking with me."

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

I followed Michelle back to her house to speak with her dying husband. Charles must've seen my car pull in behind Michelle's because he met us at the door.

"Don't tell me I'm included in one of your fantasies with Eric, Michelle." he said with a half grin.

"I'm sorry Charles but Eric insisted on speaking with you."

"That's a relief. I don't think I could handle watching you fuck my wife in my condition, Eric. Please come in. Michelle, if I had the strength I'd give you a good spanking for bringing your lover home, but I'll have to let Eric here have the fun of doing it for me." Charles laughingly said. Then leaning in he told me queitly. "She does enjoy having her rump smacked for being naughty, Mr. Ferguson."

Michelle was crying now. I'm sure she'd been doing alot of that lately. "I'm sorry Chuck...Sir, it won't happen again."

"You are causing this sick man to get arroused calling me 'Sir' you little slut!" Charles said smiling at her.

"I'll take care of that, Sir. Like I always do." Michelle said smiling through her tears.

"After I've spoken to our guest, my love. I'll need to reclaim my wife after you've been off with him on one of your adventures. Would you leave Eric and I alone to speak for a moment please, Honey?"

"I'll be in the kitchen if you two need anything." Michelle said.

Charles sat down in a recliner and I on the couch. He looked into my eyes for awhile before he spoke. "How are Jimmy and Ali doing Mr. Ferguson?"

What the hell! How does this guy know my kids names? "Um, I'm sorry, how do you know my children?" I asked barely containing my anger.

"I haven't actually met them but I was just wondering how they were doing after their mother's death last year. I can't imagine how hard it must be on them." he replied with a look of concern.

"How do you know about my wife Carol? Have you had me investigated?" I was getting a little angrier now.

"Mr. Ferguson, I would never send my wife into the arms of another man without knowing all about that man. You didn't think Michelle just picked you at random like your other conquests did you?" he said with a smirk.

"So exactly how long have you had me watched?"

"For the last six months or so. I had to be sure that my wife would be left with a good man after I'm gone. You are that good man, Eric. Your kindness shows in everything you do." he was looking at me with a sort of admiration.

"I..thank you but I'm not sure that picking up married women in a bar could be called kind."

"Most of them would disagree with you on that. Nice, kind, sweet, caring, all those words were used to describe you by your conquests, Mr. Ferguson, including by my wife."

"You spoke with all of them! How, when, what about their husbands?"

"I did it discreetly like you. They were upset that someone knew about their trysts at first, until I explained my situation. You come highly recommended, Eric. And you prefer a certain body type that just happens to be the same one belonging to my lovely wife."

"Charles I used those women as sluts most of the time. I'm not sure how they could say that I was 'kind'?" I was confused on how anyone could come to the conclusion that I was kind from speaking with the women I'd been with.

"Eric why do you think you prefer married, slightly heavier women when going on your hookups? I'll tell you why. Appreciation. Those women appreciate you chosing them, fucking them, giving them orgasms and even your giving them advice on how to work on there relationships with their husbands. Yes, they told me that you did that during the afterglow of all of your trysts. Some of them even claimed that you'd saved their marriages. Appreciation is a form of love, Mr. Ferguson. That is what you have been seeking with all of these women.

"Are you a psychologist Charles? How do you know this?"

"I read up on it after I found out your pattern of behavior. I couldn't figure out what was going on with you myself, so I researched it. Your behavior didn't fit your personality but the analysis made some sense of it.

You slutted my wife out, Mr. Ferguson and she still fell in love with you. Perhaps women can sense kindness or maybe you think you're being cruel to them but in reality you don't know how to be cruel. By the way I would ask that you please stop my wife from servicing strange men and women. I'm concerned about her health and now that you have fallen in love with her, please take more care."

"She had all that planned out, Chuck. I wouldn't have even thought of half of those things...what makes you think that I'm in love with her?" I asked perplexed.

"Yes, she has quite the imagination doesn't she? I sure don't have to tell you that. Her favorite role to play is the submissive slut, but beware, she can be quite the cruel dominatrix when given the chance.

As for how I know that you're in love with her. I saw the way you looked at her when she was crying for me. That was more than just the look of a caring man. It took great control for you not to take her in your arms and comfort her in front of me. I thank you for your restraint and for caring so deeply for my wife.

I'm growing tired now, Mr. Ferguson, I'm afraid I need to leave you and get some rest. Please take care of my Michelle. She'll need a kind, caring man like you to look after her once I'm gone." he said with tears in his eyes has he rose, shook my hand and walked up the stairs.

I went to the kitchen and found Michelle sitting at the table crying into a drink. After losing my wife to cancer last year, I knew her pain. At least her children were grown and off on their own now. My two preteens were having a rougher time of it.

"Charles went off to bed. Did you know that he investigated me for months before sending you to me in the bar that night?"

Michelle smiled up at me through her tears. "That sounds like him. Looking after me to the end."

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

Charles passed only three weeks after our meeting. He was surrounded by his family and he'd asked me to be there with Michelle. It was awkward but Michelle was crushed at his passing and she did need me there to console her. I met her children but they were confused about my relationship with their mother. We all sat down a few months later after things had settled down and after a lengthy discussion they felt more comfortable with Michelle and I's relationship.

Jimmy and Ali were happy that I had found someone and they really liked Michelle. My mother was on cloud nine that I had found love again. I asked Michelle to marry me about a year later while having dinner at home with all of them so they would feel a part of the whole thing. Having told both the kids beforehand what I was planning to do they had trouble keeping the smiles off their faces all through the meal. Michelle said 'Yes' and our new life as a patchwork family began a few months later.