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The truth of the matter was that the bitch was right. I had never in my life refused Greg. And it took very little to arouse him. I could be in the kitchen cooking and bend over to get a pan out of a lower cabinet. When I straightened up I could look at Greg and see that look in his eyes and just know that he wanted some. Unlike a lot of women who would just smile and say, "You're gonna have to wait, Honey. At least until our guests are gone," I put my husband first. If he wanted me, he got me.
Sure I was fucking a lot of guys. But most of them were blackmailing me. I couldn't take the chance of losing Greg. I loved him too much. But somewhere over the years, I just lost touch with the fact that blackmail was the reason for it. I was a slut pure and simple. My sexual needs bordered on nymphomania. Greg fucked me nearly every day and it still wasn't enough for me. Greg could roll me over first thing in the morning and fuck me awake. He could bend me over the kitchen counter for a quickie when he first got home and then give me multiple orgasms while we were in bed together before sleep. But it was never enough.
He had no idea that soon aftersoonas the kids left the house I would meet someone, somewhere, so they could do something else to me. It was a constant thing. I needed more dick than any one man could give me.
The funny thing about it is that in most cases when a woman is wholesale cheating like I did, it's because her husband isn't giving her enough regular sex, or because her husband is no good in bed. That wasn't the case with us. The man who fucked me the most, was Greg by far. None of the others could handle an every day thing. Even the men who weren't married couldn't do it. They all seemed to settle into a once or twice a week or once or twice a month thing.
And Greg was by far the best of them. It wasn't because of the size of his dick, although that was perfect for me. He wasn't the biggest, but he just seemed to fit me perfectly. It filled me up and touched all of the good spots, but without causing me any pain.
And of the few men who were allowed to fuck my ass, I craved having Greg there. I think a big part of it was Greg's stamina from all of that running. He could literally fuck me for as long as it took to make me cum over and over. There is nothing worse than a man who gets you going and can't finish the job. Besides that, there were all of our years together. Greg knew what I liked and what worked on me.
But the biggest reason by far, was because we loved each other so God Damned much. Love makes a difference. Where the other guys were just banging some slut, Greg was making love to the woman he loved. There was literally nothing he wouldn't do to please me. Greg would eat my pussy for hours and let me cum all over his face. None of the others would even put their mouths anywhere near there. I guess in their minds, there was no way they were going to taste a hole where so many other men had been.
Most of them just wanted to hit it and quit it. Most of my meetings with other men lasted fifteen minutes or less. They got me in the position they wanted, fucked me until they came and then left. There were a lot of times when I was left frustrated and horny and went home, took a shower and got my hubby to finish the job.
On another note, I told Greg something awful while we were arguing. I told him that if I had known my older kids weren't his I would have aborted them. I wasn't lying. As bad as it sseemed I was telling the truth. I had never wanted to have babies with anyone except my husband. And I had truly believed that all of our kids were his. As hard as it is for most people to believe, I love my husband more than life itself. I had sex with other men because I needed more than Greg alone could give me. I was like a drug addict. I had to have it. Even though I knew it was wrong.
If I had tried to subsist on what I could get from Greg alone, we would have been divorced a long time ago. We would have both gone crazy. Because of the other men, I was able to take whatever Greg offered. I never pressured him for sex. If I had, it would have led to him being frustrated and we would have had sex much less frequently. That would have lead to me pressuring him even more in a vicious cycle that would have lead to him feeling inadequate and our eventually breaking up.
We survived for twenty years, not in spite of me screwing other men, but because of it. The strangest thing out of all of this is that since Greg threw me away, I haven't had sex once. I survived for nearly a year with nothing, not even my own fingers on my pussy. I missed Greg badly. I wasn't sure how long I would be able to survive without him. I did that same thing my ex-skank, future daughter in law had done on Terry. I followed Greg around. I did it all the time, not just when he was on dates. I learned a lot.
I learned that Greg was crazy, or so I thought until I really analyzed the facts. Greg would go out on a date with a woman that had me seething. They would go into a restaurant and Greg in what the woman felt was a display of manners, would pull her chair out for her.
She would smile and thank him, never knowing that Greg had done it so he could check out her ass. I always felt intimidated when he did it. I always felt like I came up short when he compared those tight tiny bikini sized asses to my big, fat ass. But he always shook his head as if they just weren't what he wanted.
And some of them had fairly big racks. Nearly all of them had bigger tits than I do. A lot of them practically put their boobs in his face. But Greg was unimpressed. I spent a lot of nights planning to beat the fuck out of a lot of the women in our town.
But then I realized something incredible about my husband. Where most men ogled and fantasizes about bikini girls, Greg had changed his fantasies to match what he had. When I was thin and leggy, that was his type. When I became pear shaped with a big ass, that was what he lusted after. My husband had loved ME, no matter what I looked like. He had loved me all the way until he felt I was no longer his.
As I said, I spent a lot of time watching Greg. I not only watched his dates, I watched him at home with the kids. I watched him all winter as he played with Debbie in the yard. They made snowmen and they went for runs in the snow. Debbie was long and leggy like her dad. Her legs churned up the miles just as his did.
I almost cried when Thanksgiving came. Terry came home from school and brought Kira home with him. From the way they looked at each other and rarely left each other's side, I knew that my son would be married before he graduated. Sherry and Mark were there too, as was Kira's mom, who brought the owner of the restaurant she worked in with her. His wife was in rehab again and Sally didn't want him to spend Thanksgiving alone. Surprisingly, no one gave any thought to me spending it alone in my condo.
But I liked it. I was very happy with the fact that Greg had no date. I knew the longer he was alone, the better the chance of us getting back together.
It all changed though in the spring. I knew that Debbie took running as seriously as Greg did. I found out on one of our sporadic visits that when Debbie started high school in the fall she planned on running both track and cross country. Debbie is a really pretty girl. She's prettier than Sherry and I am. So I wondered out loud if maybe she should think about being a cheerleader too.
She didn't say a word. She just got up and opened the door. I got the impression that she was ready for me to leave.
"Debbie, you're pretty enough to be a cheerleader," I told her.
"I already know that," she said. "But I'm not enough of a slut to run around in a short skirt, jumping up in the air and bending over to let boys see my ass. I may be your daughter, but the only man who gets to see my ass will be the one I marry. I intend to go to my wedding day a virgin."
"Debbie, I'm your mother. I love you. I'm not trying to start an argument. I just want you to think about the possibilities around you," I told her.
"Did you think abut those possibilities around you, while you were doing what you did?" she hissed. i had never seen Debbie angry before. Her eyes were barely slits and I realized then that my youngest daughter hated me.
"Did you ever think about how lonely Daddy is?" she asked. "Did you ever think about the fallout for the rest of us. Do you know what it's like to be fourteen years old and have parents in your school who tell their kids that they can't be friends with me? They never tell them why, but I know and I'm sure you do too. They don't want their daughters to end up being a slut, like they think I am. They don't want their sons to be stuck with a slut like they think I am. Like I said, mother, I'm a virgin. I have never even kissed a boy. Sherry has only ever dated one man and she married him. So why would some parents think I'm a slut?"
"If I'm so terrible, why do we keep having these visitation meetings?" I snapped. I was angry and hurt. I wasn't angry at her. I was angry at myself. I really hadn't ever thought but what my actions meant to my kids or to Greg.
"We keep having them because Daddy thinks I need to have a female figure in my life. I have no idea why he thinks it should be YOU," she said. "If it was up to me, we would have stopped after I got my iPhone."
I walked right by her through the open door she was standing in front of. I went home and did something I thought that I was done doing. I cried my eyes out. I could see the true results of my actions. I had lost my best friend. Tara wouldn't accept my calls or return messages. If we met in the street, she ignored me. The man I loved was lonely and miserable. He was taking care of our kids, two of whom weren't even his ... Alone. And my children especially Debbie was being singled out because of what I did. My kids were being judged by MY actions, not their own.
Meanwhile, I was alone and miserable too. I continued to watch them but I did so because I truly wanted to see them come out of things better. I wanted to see them get stronger. I abandoned my plans and schemes to get Greg back. I tried to make myself a better person so that when we did get back together, I could be a better wife to Greg and a better mother to my kids.
So when it happened, the day I had been dreading and hoping would never come, it hit me like a cruise missile. It struck me a devastating blow from a direction I never expected.
I was sitting in my car in the central parking lot of the park. There was a trail in front of the lake that wound around the park. I could see the trail or several spots along the trail without leaving my car. I had also bought myself a pair of very compact, very powerful binoculars that brought me so close to Greg and Debbie that it seemed as if I was there on the trail with them.
On the day that my heart shattered, it seemed like any other spring Saturday morning. Greg and Debbie got to the park, and walked to the trail. Tara was at the park that morning too. It was good to see my best friend again. I thought at first that they might run together. But they headed off in different directions. Greg and Debbie ran as quickly as they usually did. They seemed to be training. They were doing one of those ridiculous workouts that Greg always told me about that were designed to help them run even faster. They alternated between all out sprinting and slower paced sections. Greg was urging Debbie to run faster.
When they met up with Tara, who was going in the opposite direction, I noticed that Debbie clapped hands with Tara as they passed. And Greg turned to watch her run as she passed. I thought that was odd, but I let it go.
Greg and Debbie got back to the starting point long before Tara did. And from my vantage point I could see that Tara had slowed to a walk. She waved at everyone she encountered on the path. Tara had always been popular. Most people thought she was, despite the fact that she was deep into her thirties, the prettiest woman in town. She was definitely prettier than Lana and that was saying something. I wished that she didn't have such terrible luck with men.
When Greg and Debbie met Tara near the end of their second lap and her first, they slowed to a jog and Tara changed direction to run with them. I had a growing sense of dread. As they walked back to the parking lot after their run. I saw Debbie animatedly chatting with Tara. Greg walked beside them and they all seemed to be happy. When they got to Tara's car, Greg leaned over and kissed her. It wasn't a peck either. It also wasn't the kind of kiss that passes between people who are only friends.
It was a full on romantic kiss. As their lips locked, Tara who was usually shy and retiring wrapped her arms around my husband and pulled him in tighter, prolonging the kiss. I watched in shock as she wiped his lips afterwards.
As bad as the kiss had been. Wiping his lips was worse. The kiss could have been anything. Maybe they had dated once or twice and I hadn't noticed it. Maybe they'd had sex. I wouldn't have minded if they had. I had slept with all three of Tara's husbands and all of them had told me that I was much, much, better in bed. But that small casual gesture of wiping his mouth, horrified me. It was too intimate. It was the kind of thing that implied ownership or at least a relationship.
I had expected that there might be one or two women trying to lay claim to my husband but I never expected my best friend to be one of them.
I continued to watch them as they got closer. A though had occurred to me. Perhaps this was Tara's way of venting her anger at me. Or some sort of revenge for me sleeping with her husbands. But as the months passed, I realized that they were very serious.
I got angrier than I had ever been in life. Tara, my supposed BFF, that means Best Fuckin' Friend for those of you who don't know, was trying to take over my life. The bitch was shopping with my daughter Sherry. She was cooking holiday meals with my family. She was running with Debbie when Greg couldn't and she was even helping Kira figure out what she wanted to do with her life.
I really lost it though, when I saw her and Greg relaxing on the deck behind our house. I had arranged to babysit for the neighbors who owned the house behind ours, hoping to watch them and find a weakness in their relationship that I could exploit. But there were none. Greg even let her plant flowers around his fucking garage.
As I watched through the windows of the house behind ours, the two of them sat on the deck together. They were holding hands and she leaned over and kissed him. They held the kiss for a long time and then she kicked a leg over him and straddled him. He put both of his hands on her ass and they started grinding against each other. I screamed as if they could hear me through the windows and across two yards.
Tara opened her blouse and fed him one of those perfect tits of hers. I was so angry that I was shaking. I called the couple I was babysitting for and told them to come home immediately because I felt sick and didn't want to give anything to their kids.
I went home as soon as they got back, barely hearing them wishing me a speedy recovery and thanking me for being so concerned with the welfare of their children.
I paced the floor of my condo. I drank almost a full pot of herbal tea, hoping it would calm me down. It didn't work. I was so hot there was steam coming out of my ears. I felt as if I could boil the tea just by holding the cup in my hands.
Bright and early the next morning, about an hour before Tara was supposed to leave for work, I was sitting on her porch as she drove up. She looked at her watch to see how much time she had to shower and get changed. She smiled and dashed up her stairs.
She had a hell of a lot of energy for a woman who'd been out all night. And as much as I hated to admit it, she looked radiant.
"Doing the walk of shame huh, Tara?" I said.
"I haven't done anything to be ashamed of," she said. "Why are you on my porch?"
"I came to talk to you," I said.
"Why, we're no longer friends," she said. "You used me, to cheat on Greg. And you slept with all three of my husbands. Why would I want to be your friend?"
"Is that why you're sleeping with my husband now?" I hissed. "You're just using Greg to get back at me."
"It's not like that at all," she said. Her expexpression told me that she was horrified.
"So you guys are just hooking up because you're both healthy adults in a friends with benefits relationship? You both need sex and you're getting it from each other?" I asked.
She looked just as horrified at that suggestion. "Donna, you and I were once very good friends," she said. "You know me better than that."
She was almost in tears at the thought that I thought she was a bad person. And I knew that she wasn't. I was just pissed. "So what's going on then Tara?" I asked.
"I ... He ... We aren't having sex!" she cried. I immediately felt bad because I knew Tara wasn't a liar. "We're waiting until ..." Before she could get it out, I saw the huge diamond ring on her hand.
"You're not ..." I choked out. "You're engaged to my husband, you fucking bitch!"
Even as I screamed it out, she nodded. "I love him, Donna. And he loves me. We didn't get together to hurt you. We tried to stay friends, but we have too much in common. And we just kept getting closer and closer and then it was just too late. And people, including the kids pushed us together. We deserve to be happy too, Donna," she said.
And I knew that she was right. "Donna, you had him," she said. "And while the two of you were together, I never even looked at him. But you messed up, Donna. Even then, I waited. I waited for the two of you to get back together. I watched him date other women, but I never went after him. We went running together a few times. And Debbie asked me for some help with some things ... I had to help her shop for bras. She didn't want to ask you and she said that you wouldn't be much help anyway. She invited me to dinner to thank me. And after that it just seemed like Greg and I were alway together. I'm sorry if it upsets you Donna, but I'm not sorry we're together. You need to move on with your life."
After saying that she went the rest of the way up her porch steps and into her house. She never looked back. I drove back to my condo trying not to cry ... And failing.
For the next few days, I never left the condo. By the time I was ready to go out again, the whole town was buzzing with the news. It was like some sort of royal coronation. People who didn't even know them were happy. They kept coming up to me and telling me about it. On the other hand the people who did know me, tried to avoid bringing it up.
Another funny thing was the fact that not only was I not invited to help plan the big day, I was not invited to the wedding. Of course I went anyway. I sat in the back row and kept my head down. I sat there complaining about everything. The people to either side of me got up and found other seats. They were replaced by two other people since seats were at a premium.
The ceremony itself was beautiful. Th only thing wrong was the couple. Well ... The groom was fine, but the bride should have been me. This whole thing should have been Greg and I getting remarried.
Terry was Greg's best man. I should have seen that coming. Debbie as the world's oldest, world's prettiest flower girl, I expected. What I didn't expect was Kira as the maid of honor. I really expected that to be Sherry.
Greg was even more handsome as a groom than he'd been for our wedding so many years ago. And that bitch Tara was so fucking beautiful that I began to hate her all over again.
