Surviving a Serial Cheater

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Love is way better the second time around.
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Standard Disclaimers: All characters in this story are fictional, residing only in my mind. Anyone partaking in sexual stuff is 18 or older. Any resemblance to someone you think you know is purely coincidence.

My name is Steve Baker. I am now close to 50 years of age. Damn, that sounds old, to me. I have been married for just over 23 years. Its my second marriage, and to say it has been way more successful than my first is the understatement of the century.

My story begins way back in the dark ages. The late 1980's. As a fairly good high school baseball player, with a minimum of finances at home, my parents were ecstatic when I got a financial grant to play baseball at The College of the Desert, in Palm Springs. A very nice two year school, with an up and coming program. Since I wasn't sure what I wanted to study, I just wanted to get all my basics out of the way, as well as playing third base for The Roadrunners.

Standing just a bit over 6' and weighing a fairly solid 185, I could hit for average, and a modest amount of power, and my fielding was a plus, also.

Since none of my high school classmates from St. George, Utah came to this school, I had to start from scratch, making new friends. Some of my girlfriends back in high school said I was a good looking young man, whatever that's worth.

I guess I was easy on the eyes with medium length brown hair, straight as a string, and long enough to fall over my collar, and bright blue eyes. My first semester in school was spent learning my way around campus, meeting my teammates, and going on a few dates. Nothing serious, but I wasn't looking for a wife. I have to admit that it was rare to go on a second date. One exception was Diane Duff. In the time between our first and second date, I heard rumors going around that she was considered an easy lay. Our first date was a bit short on complete sex, only because mother nature said no. She, on the other hand, gave me not one, but two fabulous blow jobs.

I guess I have to admit to be a sucker, pun intended, for great blow jobs. To be honest, Diane was at the top of my list. While also being easy on the eyes, standing 5'6" and maybe 120 to 125, thin waist, solid B cups, and lips that could suck start a Harley.

Not listening to what I was hearing, we did go out, again, and again. Yes, I was treated to my share of oral, and yes, I had as much of the rest of her body, I wanted. It seemed that our dates consisted of a little dinner, and straight to whatever sex was on the menu for that night.

Nothing, and I mean nothing was off the menu. Oral, anal, and yes, straight sex, as many times as my body was able. It got to the point where my baseball coach called me aside, and told me I had to choose, between all that pussy, and baseball. It seemed like my batting average fell as fast as Diane's panties did. When I told her that we had to slow down, a bit, she just shrugged and told me there wasn't a shortage of good stiff cocks on campus.

Should that have told me something? Did I heed her statements? Yes, I should have. Did I? Not seriously enough.

At least once a week, we would meet for a great night of sex. As my freshman season came to an end, she informed me she had to return to her parents home, about 75 miles away, to help take care of her grandmother.

With me having a summer job waiting for me, back in St. George, I knew I could live without her. I did have a few dates, with girls I'd gone to high school with, but the majority of the students there were Morman, and most of the girls who weren't away in college, were already married. One or two of the girls who went to high school with me, let it be known that they would put out for a wedding ring. Not in this lifetime, I thought. I still had dreams of playing baseball in the Major Leagues.

Back at school for my Sophomore season, I started getting some feelers from small colleges for my last two years. Without the distractions of the previous year, my batting average improved, almost 20 points. Until one weekend, who knocks on my door, one afternoon, but my fuck buddy, Diane. We must have spent the next four hours doing everything a normal 20 year old young man can imagine. I did have to put my foot down when she asked if I wanted to invite a teammate, or two to join in.

Even then, I must have still been thinking with my dick. I just couldn't see fucking 'my girl' along side anyone else with their cock in one of her other holes.

She spent the rest of my second year, visiting me about one week, every other month. We really didn't have anything in common except in bed. We were amazing together. I knew she was on the pill, so condoms were only used when I'd fuck her very tight asshole. There still wasn't much we didn't do. When I refused to invite another guy to join in, she would use a dildo, while we were fucking.

As my season ended, and I was getting my two year degree in Computer Science, I started getting some offers to keep my education and baseball moving forward.

None of the big schools seemed interested in me, but the two best offers were from Northern Arizona, and UC Riverside. Let me see, Flagstaff, Arizona, or Riverside, just 60 miles west of Palm Springs? Sun, year around, or 3 to 5 feet of snow each winter. No brainer. UC Riverside, here I come.

I went from being a Road Runner to being a Highlander. As long as someone else was paying my tuition, it didn't make any difference to me.

My Junior year, I decided to continue with my Computer Science program, and got a good head start on the baseball team. I had a few dates, but did stay in touch with Diane, who lived only 25 minutes from campus. I got a bit suspicious when each time I wanted to visit her, she always had some excuse. The only time we would get together, it was at my apartment. We did start having actual dates, but still ended up in bed, fucking our brains out.

Just as I was finishing my third year. and having a successful baseball season, I was told by several pro scouts to play my final year, to hone my skills and get ready for the amateur draft, the following year.

Being on track to get my degree, I was looking forward to my final season. Starting my senior year, Diane asked to move in with me, but I told her that I did need to concentrate on both my studies and baseball. She agreed, and moved her stuff in the second month of the school year.

Along with getting a job near campus, we starting acting like a couple. Could I see us together? Yes, even though my parents warned me about her past behavior.

As my final season was ending, and my batting average nearing the .325 mark, I actually had several scouts at most of my games. With my degree in hand, all I had to do us wait for the June amateur draft.

I do have to admit that Diane and I were talking marriage, with me telling her that I was going to give my baseball career a chance, with the right offer.

The draft was nearly a complete disappointment, being drafted in the 22nd round by the Oakland A's, who were well stocked with third basemen.

They signed me to a minor league contract, and invited me to their winter program in Arizona. As I was trying to decide my future, Diane and I did get married, and I received a second offer to contemplate. A very nice offer from a tech company in Silicon Valley, that would pay me better than any low minor league baseball team would.

After much conversation, both with my wife and my parents, I took to job offer, and left my baseball dreams in the dugout.

Moving to the community of Mountain View, about 35 miles south of San Francisco, and about 10 minutes from my new office, we settled into a fairly modern apartment, that was mostly young couples. Several of my fellow employees lived there, too.

As I was learning all I could with my new company, Diane got a secretarial job, just outside of San Jose, just a few miles from us, and accessible by bus or CalTrain.

The second Christmas I worked for this company, we decided to go to the company Christmas party. There were at least 150 people there, mostly young married couples, with a few of the older, management people, too.

As the evening was in full swing, nearing midnight, I couldn't find my wife. Looking in all the areas around the very large hall the party was held in, I found about a half dozen smaller rooms.

The third door I opened, stopped me in my tracks. There on a couch was my wife, on top of one of my bosses, with his cock thrusting in and out of her dripping wet pussy. If that wasn't bad enough, one of my other bosses had his cock pumping in and out of her asshole.

Since this was before the age of cell phone cameras, I did reach in my pocket, taking out my brand new, Dycam digital camera, and snapped a dozen or so pictures, capturing the very essence of what was going on.

To say I was pissed was an understatement. To say I was shocked, not so much. Even though we never fought, and seldom argued, our marriage wasn't perfect. I wanted to start a family, but Diane always said she wanted us to have more in savings, and maybe start looking for our own house.

At that moment, the only thing I wanted to start looking for was a good divorce lawyer.

After calming down enough to drive us home, without saying a word, we got inside our apartment, I very calmly asked her if she wanted a divorce.

"Why on earth would you ask me that?" she innocently asked me.

"How about you fucking two of my bosses, at the same time on a couch in the room behind the coat check desk! And I am guessing this wasn't the first time, right?"

Her hands flew to her face, as she stammered, "that didn't mean a thing, Steve, I had too much to drink."

"If you think I believe you, you're out of your fucking mind! You have 10 minutes to gather up what you need, and get the fuck out of here!"

"Where will I go, at this time of night?"

"If you think I give a shit, you're dead wrong, now get out!"

To this day, I have no idea where she went, and couldn't care less.

I found a well recommended lawyer, who took down all my information as well as a copy of my SIM card with the incriminating pictures on them.

Papers were filed, and served. Three weeks later, we had our first meeting. I did a little research on her lawyer, and found absolutely nothing to give me any idea he was anything more than a sleazy shyster.

Our initial meeting, where it was all I could do to stay quiet, as instructed, went absolutely nowhere. Her lawyer started out by saying his client wanted $3,000 a month in alimony. Fat chance, my lawyer said.

"May I ask how much you're going to counter with?"

"How about ZERO," my lawyer said, quietly. "It was Mrs. Baker who was entertaining two men at the same time, and not my client. It was your client who thought so little of her marriage vows to do this to my client, and we are guessing if a third man was available, he would have found an empty hole to put his cock into, right?"

Dead silence, as my soon to be ex wife was whispering to her lawyer.

After about 90 seconds of this silence, my lawyer, got out of her chair and told them both, we would meet again, in court.

We didn't hear a word, and planned our strategy for our first court appearance, three weeks from that day.

All I could think about, each day I went to work, was how soon I could get a different job. Looking at those two made me sick to my stomach.

It took me less than a week to come up with my solution. I was going into business for myself.

I knew I had enough in savings to last up to six months, so bright and early, Monday morning, I casually walked into the bosses office, and told them, "I quit!"

"How much notice are you giving?" he asked.

"As soon as we are done here, I'm gone, and you and your butt fucking pal can shove my desk up your collective asses!"

As I turned to leave, I looked back over my shoulder, saying they both should get checked for STD's. I lied, but it felt good to fuck with their minds.

I hadn't felt this good, leaving the building since that night's activities that lead to all of this.

I started advertising myself as a consultant, specializing in computer security, which I was fairly well versed. I actually stayed in our old apartment, as it had all the necessary space I needed.

It didn't take more than a few hours for Diane to get her things moved out, with help from a couple of guys I didn't know, but I could guess how she paid them.

In just over 3 weeks, our court case was scheduled. Meeting with her slime ball attorney, a Judge and my attorney, there wasn't much to discuss. She knew there would be not one penny of alimony, or spousal support. We split our savings and checking accounts in half, signed a few papers, and waited the required three months, and were both single, again.

For a little sidebar, here, I did hear that my former employer lost over a dozen clients, when some of them got wind of their Christmas party hijinks. Truth be told, they did not hear that from me. But it did bring a smile to my face, each time I heard about a former client, finding a new company to deal with.

One thing I started to do with my spare time is to dabble in a new computer game. It was more of a teaching game, to help advance baseball skills at all four infield positions. The more I tinkered with it, the better it became.

After testing it for over three months, I got it copyrighted, and started showing it to some of the high schools and community colleges, all over the Bay Area.

Since I had played a little basketball too, I made one for that sport, too. With my divorce finalized, and two games starting to take off, I was offered a job in the shadows of the Microsoft campus. Not for them, but a sub contractor, doing some gaming for them. My instructional games seemed to pique their interest.

I had never been to that area, so I drove up, for a weekend, before my Monday morning interview.

I spent both Saturday and Sunday visiting all the spots I looked at, online, to see if this was the area I could live and work in.

The interview went extremely well, and the job I was offered knocked me for a loop, when the HR lady showed me the salary they were offering me. All that money do develope computer instructional games. Wow!

I couldn't say yes, fast enough. Before going back to the Bay Area to get ready for my big move, they put me in touch with some Realtors, to show me several options for my new living situation.

As I was packing up all my stuff, which really wasn't all that much, I felt this was the closure I needed to put my disastrous marriage behind me.

I did find a nice house to rent, with an option to buy that had more than enough space, 3 bedroome, plus a den for my home office, two full bathrooms, and a medium sized yard. Wow, I was going to live in a real house. Thinking about this gave me a second thought, realizing it would be me, by myself.

I tried convincing myself I was OK with this, but that didn't work out as well as I would have liked.

As lonely as I was at home, I was making more than a few friends at work. One, who I was working directly with was a lady, who looked in her early 40's who one day at lunch asked me if I had ever thought about coaching kids of any ages. Until that moment, I hadn't.

When I asked why she was asking, she told me her oldest son was going into his Junior year at a small, private school in our area, and their coach needed some help.

I told her I would check it out, that very afternoon. When I arrived on campus, I could see a very new school, that seemed to be very well funded.

I asked to talk to anyone in the Athletic Department, and soon was introduced to the Director. When I told him why I was there, he nearly hired me on the spot. I told him I wasn't doing this for the money, and he replied, good, because we don't pay very much.

He told me the prospective players were meeting the following Monday, afternoon, so I told him I'd be there.

My only thought was this was an opportunity to get out of my house for something besides work.

On Monday afternoon, I was met by a group of about 15 to 20 young men, who from first glance, looked absolutely nothing like a baseball team.

The first question I asked was how many played at this school the previous year. When only 8 answered they had, I knew this was a very young team.

Two weeks into our Spring practice, I could see some potential, and a lot of hustle. While not blessed with a lot of talent, I knew we would have a good time learning the game of baseball.

One day, as I was walking onto our practice field, most of the players were gathered around one kid and his new laptop computer. I could hear a very familiar voice, in the throes of sexual excitement, and as soon as I neared the group, they closed the laptop and apologized.

I told them I thought I recogized that voice, so I asked them to turn it back on. Before I looked at the porn video they were watching, I asked them if the woman they were watching was using a name with two 'D's in it. Yes, they said, she goes by 'Diane DD. When one of them asked if I watched this website, I told them, after seeing for myself, that she was my ex-wife.

They couldn't apologize fast enough, until I reminded them she was my EX! Aside for the fact that what she was now doing for money, she did for fun, causing our divorce.

She was now a feature on a website devoted to interracial gang bangs. At least she was making money doing what she used to give away. Oh, the DD was also for the horrible boob job she got, as they looked like they were hard as rocks, and the nipples were uneven.

Every so often, one of the young men would be picked up by a women I found out was his sister, and her little girl, who looked to be about 2 years old.

I recognized her as one of the many assistants who I dealt with from Microsoft. I also recognized her last name, as I played a few games in College against a very good pitcher with that same last name.

Halfway through our season, I finally asked her after the game, and she told me that, yes the guy I played against was her husband, and before she could get another word out, I remembered he died of an embolism at just 24 years of age.

I expressed my condolences, and told her that he seemed to have a future. We talked for another few minutes, and then she and her little girl were off.

For some unknown reason, I wondered if I should talk some more with her. Her name was Gayle Wilkins, and she was a year or so older than me, and it didn't bother me that her late husband was black.

A little sidebar, here. This was the mid 1990's and the term African/American wasn't as in vogue, as it is today.

At the end of our season, we had a very nice get together, where she and her daughter, along with most of the parents joined in the festivities.

After presenting some individual awards, both the head coach and I talked about our season. We actually did fairly well, considering where we started from. We finished with 8 wins and 12 losses, that was the most wins in any of the school's 4 seasons of varsity play, plus winning 6 of our final 8 games.

As things were winding down, Gayle Wilkins and her daughter, Carly, came up to me to thank me, personally for helping, her brother, Len this season.

When Carly asked if I could teach her how to throw a ball, I had to admit, I might have found a new friend.

Just standing around talking with them both, Gayle asked what were the chances of having dinner, together.

Taking a closer look at her, I saw a very pleasant looking woman, maybe 5'7" or so, a little on the heavy side, but not over weight to any extent. Fairly well endowed, with a million dollar smile.

While Carly was playing with Uncle Len, we walked outside, just to talk.

"Before we start, Lennie told me about your ex wife, and I guess I need to tell you how I fully understand if you're reluctant in any way.