The Return of Jerry Lee

The Return of Jerry Lee

(She said her affair "just happened," but he knew better!)

By

littleOneWon

I remember reading a story somewhere and I thought it was probably on Literotica. I made numerous searches trying to find it with no success. Then I tried to locate it by using the Literotica Forum with this entry:

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Looking for a Story

She said her affair was "accidental" or "just happened," but he explained how each step required considerable effort on her part.

As of this writing, there have been 77 views, but not a single response.

My story uses that concept, but it's a small part of this story. Nevertheless, I apologize and give credit in advance if I've stepped on anyone's toes.

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It was almost quitting time and I was putting the finishing touches on an instruction manual for a new convection oven. Tomorrow I would be able to have the marketing department hand it off to the manufacturer for a "first look." While I was running a last-minute check for errors, Janet's voice came over the intercom: "Jim, I have Linda on line one."

As I picked up the phone, I wondered why she was calling my office phone instead of my cell. "Hi, Linda. What's up."

"Honey, can you pick up Lesley from school? We are running way behind on an order for a major buyer. The company has decided to keep the line running until we get their order done."

I asked how long it would take and she said it would probably take about an hour. As soon as she said that, I heard a male voice in the background saying that he "was hoping" for two hours. Then she said, "The boss thinks it will take two hours. Let's just say that I'll be an hour or two late."

She went on to say that there were several TV dinners in the freezer that I could use for supper. She said that Lesley would want Turkey and Dressing. I could pick from several others. Then she said, "I'm sorry to lay this on you, honey, but it's one of those things that just happens sometimes."

I thought about it for a minute and decided to offer an alternative. I said, "Linda, better yet, just call when you are about to finish. Lesley and I will meet you at that pizza place just down the block from your factory. We haven't been there recently and Lesley loves the place."

There was a delay during which I could hear muffled voices. It sounded like she had covered the mic with her hand while she talked to someone else. She finally said that she didn't want Lesley to have to wait that long to eat. Then she repeated how sorry she was and how she hated to be so abrupt, but they needed to get busy. The line was about to restart. She ended with, "I'll be home in a couple of hours."

It was a little over three hours later when she came through the door. She looked exhausted. She threw her jacket into the closet and nearly fell into her chair.

I offered to prepare dinner for her (the TV kind) but she said that she had been able to grab a sandwich while working the line. As she sat there, I noticed tears on her cheeks. As I ambled over to comfort her, she sprang up and said that she was just worn out and needed to take a relaxing shower. Her energy seemed to return as she bolted from her chair and ran up the stairs. A few minutes later, I heard the shower running.

As I pondered all that had occurred, I realized that I had seldom seen Linda shed any tears. That thought took me back to something her mother had told me a long time ago. She was speaking about the time when I broke up with Linda after seeing her leaving a movie theatre with an old flame. Her mom said that Linda became "weepy" for days on end until we finally made up. She went on to say that the same thing had happened a couple of times previously. Linda seemed to get into that "weepy" mode any time she did something to hurt her current boyfriend.

That was on my mind as we watched some TV that evening. Several times I saw tears in her eyes. When I questioned her about it, she said that she just felt "rung out" after having to work the line under so much pressure.

When we finally went to bed, I tried to comfort her. It seemed to work, but later she woke me up a couple of times with her sobbing. Her mother's words came back loud and clear, "She cried any time she did something to hurt her boyfriend." I wondered if that applied now. If so, what had she done?

It was two days later when things came to a head. She was still in that "weepy" mode. I was installing new bulbs in a ceiling fixture when the doorbell rang. Linda answered the door. It was our neighbor, Fred Fields. He was returning a tool that he had borrowed from me. He was his evocative self as he said, "So, Linda, yes or no: have you stopped cheating on Jim?"

It was one of his loaded questions. He was full of them. He often greeted men with, "Yes or no: have you stopped beating your wife?" Other times it was, "Have you stopped kicking your dog?" Once at a party, when I was having a drink, he asked, "Yes or no: have you always been an alcoholic?" He said it loud enough for everyone to hear. Of course, everyone knew that it was just Fred being Fred.

Little did he know that he had caught Linda in one of her "weepy" moods. She started crying, turned around, and ran upstairs. He was devastated and apologetic in the extreme. I remembered what her mom had said. I began asking myself again what she had done to hurt me?

I knew that it had all started that evening when she was forced to work late on the assembly line. I began thinking about it. I recalled that male voice saying that he was "hoping for two hours." I began to see a method to her madness! She was with another man! Given our situation, I was not sure how or whether to react.

She soon solved that for me. Saturday, right after breakfast, Linda told me through sobs that she had misled me last Tuesday. She wasn't working late. It was all a lie. She called me on my office phone from a room phone at the Midland Hotel. That way there would be no "find my phone" app to trace the call. She was in that room for sexual purposes with her boss.

She said, "Honey, I'm so sorry. It wasn't a planned thing. It just happened. It didn't mean anything. It was more like an accidental occurrence. We're not in love or anything. It was all spur of the moment. It just happened. I could hardly face you afterward. There you were sitting at home with our daughter eating a TV dinner while I was being fucked by another man. I've done nothing but shed tears of regret since it happened. My guilt has forced me to tell you. Please forgive me. It just happened. It was a one-night stand."

I answered, "My, my. That must have been very tiring for you! Next time, you should lie down."

She said, "I appreciate your levity, but there will be no next time."

I told her that, technically, a couple of hours didn't constitute a one-night stand. Even so, I couldn't accept her statement that it "just happened." I said it was very doubtful that what they did in that room was the very first thing they had done together.

I suggested that they probably started by having coffee together in the break room. Then they escalated to a few lunches together at nearby cafes. After that, maybe a dinner or two when I was busy taking Lesley to after-school activities. She just nodded her head.

Then I questioned how she "accidentally" ended up in that hotel room. I told her that I suspected that they had previously discussed in considerable detail just what would happen in that room. Also, someone had to call the hotel to reserve the room. They most likely planned to leave work at slightly different times and meet at a prearranged location where his car would be parked. It wouldn't be in the factory parking lot, that's for sure. Then her lover drove them to that out-of-town hotel. That took effort too.

I speculated that when they arrived at the hotel, he probably got the key from the desk and paid cash for the room. Then, she came in a little later and took a different path to the room. I said, "It takes work to be deceptive. It doesn't just happen."

I continued to guess that when they were finally together in the room there were still more tasks to complete. I mentioned that it was doubtful that her blouse and his shirt just fell off. The same can be said for her skirt and his pants. It took effort for them to undress. Perhaps they helped each other with their undergarments. So many functions to perform before they finally crawled into bed together.

Once they were in bed, the real labor began. There was exploring that led to discoveries. Then there was panting, sweating, moans, groans, and downright exhausting "exercise" that led to the exalted climax that they were seeking. During all of that, they had to constantly speak love words to each other through bated breath. When the ecstasy finally died down, there was rinse and repeat, repeatedly!

Then I repeated that it didn't just happen. It was planned step by fucking step. It took effort from both parties. They performed a multitude of tasks and learned as much as possible about each other's most secret places, desires, and preferences.

"Is that about right, Linda?"

"I get your argument, Jim. I didn't mean to suggest that the trip to the Midland Hotel was unplanned. It was what started us on that path that I was referring to. I was not looking for a lover. I had worked for Richard Boone for several years. It was just a subordinate-to-boss relationship until a couple of months ago. I always admired him and to be honest, I felt some attraction to him; but nothing of any importance. It was alright until that status quo changed into something more. That's what seemed to come out of nowhere. Suddenly, admiration turned into something more and for the first time, it was reciprocated. That was what 'just happened.' I wasn't seeking that change. Maybe 'just happened' is not the right term, but that's how I see it."

I reminded her that it really didn't matter. I drew her attention to that afternoon in the park five years ago when we first talked about marriage. It was that fateful afternoon when I told her that in my opinion, when a boyfriend wanted to become a husband, he should let her know before he went down on one knee with a ring. I thought that since she would, hopefully, be wearing her ring for many years, she should be allowed to pick it out. I suggested that we make a trip to the mall to let her do just that.

It was then that I learned she didn't want my ring or my proposal. I said, "You stressed that it was not about me, but about the institution of marriage. It was even more than that. You didn't believe in the concept of monogamy either. I will never forget what was said that afternoon in the park."

You said, "Jim, I love you as much as one person can love another. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have your children. We have what it takes to be great parents. We can do all of that without a ceremony. We don't need a piece of paper to bind us. We don't need to be swearing to some outdated vows like many others have done and most have violated. When you boil it down, all we need is each other."

I reacted by saying, "Linda, do you mean that we should have an open marriage where either one of us is free to have relationships with other people?"

You answered, "No, I'm saying that we can live together as a couple without the chains of marriage. We can do everything that married couples do because we want to, not because we have to. If one or both of us finds ourselves in a fling or two, we will know the difference between an occasional pebble and a solid rock. There may be a few minutes of strain and disappointment featuring players that are unsigned or perhaps playing on a different team. What's important is that afterward, we will always return to our home-team bench. We will shake it off and finish this incomprehensible game of life together. We will be more in love than ever."

Returning from memory lane to the present, I asked her if Richard Boone was one of the "pebbles" that she referred to that day. She said that he was even less. He was more like a grain of sand that was positioned in the just right place to sort of scratch an itch on her foot. It didn't take long for it to change from itching and scratching to hurting and bleeding. It was bad enough to bring tears to her eyes. Then, far from what she intended, her tears alerted an innocent observer to the existence of the sand, which in turn, somehow began to hurt and emasculate that observer. "In case you don't understand my psychobabble, you are the observer I'm referring to, Jim."

She said that she couldn't tolerate that. She shook the sand from her shoe and told it to never bother her again. To her dismay, there were some lingering tears that the observer misinterpreted as a sign that the sand was still in place.

She said, "Jim, the sand is ancient history. That small grain will never bother me again. I am ashamed that I only stayed pebble-free for five years. I should have done better than that. It seems to me that you have."

"Yep, Linda, no pebbles for me. I doubt that there ever will be. My shoes and socks are just too tight to allow it."

She cried one last tear as she hugged me and kissed me with hope, love, and passion.

The following two years were as good as it gets for our little family. Lesley was doing great in school. She was a good student. I had received a promotion and was now the manager of the Technical Division of our publishing company. I had sixteen tech writers working for me. Linda was still working on the assembly line of our local electronics factory.

We had celebrated our version of an anniversary five weeks ago. It marked our seventh year together. Now, I was seeing a change in her behavior, but it wasn't the "weepy" thing. She seemed more energized, especially in the bedroom. She smiled more and even told some off-color jokes. I wondered what was behind her new bedroom performance and where she was hearing those jokes. I was puzzled, but I wasn't complaining.

The explanation came most unexpectedly. I was preparing to attend a staff meeting when Janet announced that she had Mary Langley on line two. I grabbed the phone saying, "Hello Mom, what's up?"

It turned out that she was calling to ask if her daughter had been in "weepy" mode lately. When I assured her that, if anything, Linda had been acting just the opposite; Mary seemed to be taken aback. A few sentences later, my world started to crumble. She told me that the guy Linda had been dating just before she started dating me had reappeared on the scene.

Mary admitted to not liking the guy. She said he was a "coarse-talking, truck-driving, low-life individual." She also indicated that her daughter found him to be irresistible. She wanted to warn me that he was back in Linda's life. She wouldn't give me more details or reveal if she found out about him from Linda or someone else. All she wanted to do was alert me to the looming danger that the Return of Jerry Lee represented.

She said, "I thought you needed to be informed about what you're facing. She could never say 'no' to that guy. Luckily, he joined the army and attended boot camp on the east coast. Then he was transferred to the First Infantry Division in Fort Riley, Kansas. Shortly after that, his unit shipped out to Germany. Linda wanted to marry him before he left, but I was able to convince her that it was a bad idea. Having said that, she's always resented it. I'm afraid that her relationship with you has just been a placeholder for her. She purposely wouldn't marry you because she had promised to be Jerry Lee's wife when he came back.

"I was hoping that the good life that she and Lesley share with you would nullify her promise to him, but I guess that hasn't happened. I gather that she's been 'dating' him again and fully intends to keep her promise by marrying him. Even when she admitted that the only thing he learned in the army was how to drive an eighteen-wheeler, she assured me that they would do fine financially. She indicated that what she got from you would be all they needed. I don't know what kind of agreement you two have, but you should know that she's relying on your generosity to fund her folly."

I thanked Mary for confiding in me. She ended our conversation by saying that she feared for her daughter, her grandchild, and me. So did I.

I spent the next few days talking to my attorney, my banker, and my personnel department. I confirmed that the information they had given me previously about my arrangement with Linda was still valid. I was prepared for the confrontation that I knew was coming.

It started with those five infamous words, "Honey, we need to talk."

I said, "Don't tell me you've found another grain of sand!"

She answered, "It's worse than that."

Then I asked, "Are we talking about a pebble this time?"

She said, "It's a full-blown rock, but nothing in the arrangement we have has to change. I've been hooking up with an old flame and it's become a serious relationship. His name is Jerry Lee. I dated him before I met you. He spent a long time in the service. He learned to drive big trucks and he served as a Company Clerk, which gave him lots of legal training. The muscles in his arms are bigger than your leg muscles. You don't want to go up against him mentally or physically. Believe me, he'd beat you to a pulp in any kind of contest.

"Here's the deal, I would like to have him move in with us. He can use the spare bedroom. He drives a semi so he's gone more than he's home. When he's gone, I'll sleep with you. When he's in town, I'll sleep with him. Aside from that, very little will change.

"If you agree to that, there need be no arguments or ill feelings. The two of you will get along fine and Lesley will like him too. He'll even take her on some trips in his big rig! There's no loser if you will agree to those terms."

I was expecting some kind of scheme from her, thanks to her mom, but this proposition was more than I was prepared for. I said, "Linda, as far as I'm concerned, this throws our agreement out the window. We allowed for pebbles, but not boulders. You say there's no loser, but that's not true. Your plan would have me go from sleeping with you every night to just doing so when Jerry Lee is not in town. My time with Lesley would be limited similarly. Also, you don't specify how Jerry Lee will help us pay for utilities, food, cable tv, etc. You have a lot of work to do on this new agreement."

"Jim, we can decide those things as they come up. All I need from you today is a simple 'yes' or 'no.' Will you agree to let him live with us or not? We can handle all of those extra things as we go along. Just give me your simple 'yes' or 'no' answer."

"In that case, my simple answer is simply 'no,' Linda."

She told me that I obviously didn't know the consequences of my answer, but she did, thanks to Jerry Lee. Then she enlightened me. She said that she would file for a divorce and I would pay a heavy price. She would keep the house until Lesley was 18 years old. After that, it would be sold and we would split the profit. In addition, I would be paying alimony and child support. She would get custody of Lesley and I would be stuck with occasional visits. She topped it off by stating: "Lesley will soon think of Jerry Lee as her dad instead of you."

I retorted, "How will you get a divorce since we aren't married." I knew the answer, but I didn't want her to know how much I knew.

She said just what I expected. Jerry Lee had told her that our state allowed common-law marriages. After spending seven years together, we were considered to be married. I knew it was not that simple. I had consulted a top-notch attorney, my bank, and my personnel department after her mom had enlightened me about Jerry Lee.