The Weight

"Are you two Americans?" asked the brunette; her English was good, but there was an accent, probably French.

Introductions were made, the two women, they were indeed French, joined them. The brunette, Michelle, seemed to have set her sights on Tyler, the blonde, Leslie, on Greg. They drank, then found a nightclub where they danced until 3am. Tyler and Greg walked the ladies to the dock where their small yacht was moored.

"Is this yours?" asked Greg.

Leslie answered. "It's my father's, he's letting us use it for the month. Why don't come back tomorrow morning and we'll go out for a cruise?"

Tyler and Greg were disappointed they weren't invited to spend the night; but agreed to return the next morning. It would be the last time either of them was disappointed over the next three weeks.

The two men headed down to the dock in the morning, holding their collective breaths hoping the yacht would still be there. It was - the two women were on the deck wearing matching blue bikinis and waving them aboard. Within five minutes of climbing on board, each man had a drink in hand, the women had their tops off, and the boat was heading out of the harbor.

Tyler couldn't help but thank the stars for what was beginning to be a fantastic day. Without perving, he watched Michelle as she stood on the flying bridge, wearing only the bottom that barely covered half of each perfect ass cheek. Michelle stood five-seven, had small B-cup breasts that were just right for her slim build and obviously worked out. Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, her blue eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator style sunglasses.

It was a beautiful day on the Mediterranean, calm blue water, perfect sunshine. As soon as the boat was far enough offshore for privacy, both ladies dropped their bottoms and went skinny-dipping. Tyler and Greg stripped down and joined them.

Michelle swam over to Tyler and wrapped her legs around his midsection. Since neither of them had any bodyfat, Tyler had to kick like crazy to avoid both sinking.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" she laughed, the words sounding sexier because of her accent. "Let's go up on the swimming deck."

They swam to the back of the boat, Tyler sat himself on the back edge of the platform, his legs still in the water. He reached out to Michelle and lifted her right out of the water. Michelle couldn't help but be impressed by Tyler's strength. The fabulous build of this man was more than just for show, there was power in his muscles.

Michelle sat on Tyler's lap, facing him. She reached down between them to fondle Tyler's cock, which was starting to harden. Tyler played with Michelle's left breast with one hand and her pussy with the other. Her pussy lips were clean-shaven with a wisp of soft hairs above her clit. She was already wet and Tyler took advantage of this to push one finger into her tight glove.

Michelle squirmed on Tyler's lap as Tyler found her g-spot. She almost let go of his cock, which was now hard as a rock, but gripped tighter with both hands. Her fingertips could touch, but just barely, and she knew his cock would fill her without causing any pain -- just right. During this entire time they were kissing with passion, their tongues playing with each other's.

Tyler's cock was leaking pre-cum and Michelle was using it to massage the mushroom head with a swirling motion. Tyler decided he was finished with the foreplay and was ready to fuck this nymph. "Should we go inside?"

"No, I don't think you noticed. Greg and Leslie went up the side ladder and are in the cabin." With that, Michelle raised herself to clear the top of Tyler's hardon, then dropped down in one motion. His cock was slick from the pre-cum, her pussy was wet from the finger-play, there was nothing to prevent his cock from slipping all the way to her cervix until their pubic bones met.

Stacy thought the sex scene was a bit amateurish, but she never read erotic or romance literature, so how was she to know? Stacy continued to read as she played with her own clit, every few strokes she would slip two fingers into her pussy and twiddle her g-spot. Stacy couldn't help but notice the physical similarities between Michelle and herself. Just the thought of having Kyle think of her in that way brought her closer to the edge. She kept reading.

Tyler and Michelle continued to move in tandem, savoring the feelings. He would push his hips up, she lowered her ass down until he filled her again and again, his pubic bone hitting her clit. Tyler marveled at how Michelle could squeeze her pussy muscles to increase the sensation on his cockhead. They kept it up until Tyler felt Michelle's release, only then did he let himself go, stream after stream of jism pumping out of his balls, through the shaft and bathing Michelle's womb.

The lovers kissed, then laughed. Michelle leaned back until she fell off Tyler's lap and into the sea - Tyler leaned forward to follow her.

By the time Tyler and Michelle got back on the boat, Greg and Leslie were walking out of the cabin onto the main deck, still stark naked. Leslie pulled Michelle into the cabin for a moment. When they came out, Greg and Tyler were still standing there, wondering 'what's next?'.

"Michelle and I were hoping you two would like to spend your three weeks touring with us on our boat. We'll go back to shore; you can check out and get your gear and we'll take a tour of the Mediterranean together. What do you think?"

Tyler and Greg looked at each other, nodded in silent agreement, then both answered in unison, "Hell, yea!"

Thus began the most audacious R&R that either of the two Seals ever experienced.

Stacy read the next few pages describing in intimate detail more sex between Tyler and Michelle. Now, every time she read the name 'Michelle', she substituted her own name and imagined Tyler was bringing her to orgasm after orgasm. Finally, after reading the scene when they fuck on the flying bridge, then lie on their backs looking up at a million stars, Stacy couldn't take it any longer. She dropped the pages on the bed and closed her eyes.

Stacy imagined having Kyle's arms holding her, his lips kissing hers, his cock inside her pussy. With her two fingers still teasing her g-spot, Stacy's other hand moved under her night shirt from one breast to another, then across her belly until her fingertips touched her clit. She didn't stop this time; with her fantasy traveling at the speed of thought, with Kyle's image front and center in her mind, Stacy had an orgasm so intense that she thought she may have just peed herself. It took ten minutes before her breathing returned to normal.

Two days later, when Stacy returned his draft, Kyle could tell the story had the desired effect. Stacy was blushing as she handed to him.

"Did you like it?" Kyle did his best to control the smirk on his face.

"I did. It's a great story and a good first draft. I made some suggestions and comments in the margins."

"It's not too over the top, is it? I didn't know if I needed to tone down the sex scenes between Tyler and Michelle."

Stacy blushed redder. "Oh no; I think it added the right touch. There's nothing wrong with having some sex between consenting adults. It adds a spark."

"That's what I always thought. Sex between consenting adults can add a spark to anyone's existence; whether in literature or real life."

Stacy caught Kyle's hint; it was as subtle as a train wreck. But it also pleased her. If there was any doubt as to Kyle's intentions, this conversation put them to rest. If Stacy wasn't a married woman, Kyle would be fucking her that night.

Stacy began to think in those terms: Why did I marry so young? Was Rick really the right man for me? Rick seems so weak and morose when you compare him to Kyle. Kyle has seen danger and responded so courageously, Rick has never done anything remotely dangerous.

Stacy attitude toward Rick degraded until the two barely spoke. Rick was tired of being talked down to and communications were now limited to Amy's care and schedule. While the wall grew higher at home, the flirting and intimacy between Stacy and Kyle accelerated at school.

Danielle Miller was one of the teachers watching the two lovebirds. Danielle was Kyle's neighbor and the Biology teacher who Kyle briefly courted and bedded until Kyle realized he had a real shot at getting in Stacy's pants. Danielle couldn't stand Stacy, with her size two figure, pretty face and blue eyes, and it didn't help when Kyle dropped her like a rock only to see him set his sights on Mrs. Perfect. Worse yet, Stacy was chosen over Danielle to be the women's tennis coach this Spring.

Kyle's first mistake was playing where you work, second mistake -- unceremoniously dumping a jealous woman, third mistake -- not knowing the said dumpee's uncle is a U.S. Congressman. One week after a phone call to Uncle Fred, Danielle had all the information she needed. As she watched the escalating romance, she knew it wouldn't be long. She'd wait until the affair was consummated, then wreck two lives.

It was six weeks after Stacy read his story, six weeks of flirting. Kyle had enough, it was time.

"Stacy, you've teased me long enough. I'm going to make reservations for us to have dinner Thursday night. I know it's your book club night, I read your planner. We're going to have dinner at Carmen's, then go across the street to the Hilton. I'm going to make love to you like no one has ever made love to you."

Stacy didn't object to Kyle's demands; all she could think is how manly and forceful her future lover could be. How different from Rick. Rick always asked, Kyle told. She did have one question.

"Why a hotel? Why not your apartment?"

"Because three other teachers live in my complex. I assume you don't want to be seen going in and out of my apartment. Not yet, anyway. Not while you're married to that loser."

Stacy couldn't help but smile at Kyle's consideration for her situation. It didn't occur to her that she should defend her husband after Kyle called Rick a loser.

And Kyle couldn't help but smile inside; once again he was able to tell some stupid female that they had a future without actually saying the words. A future he had no intention of making permanent, he'd enjoy a few months of banging this broad before going on to the next conquest.

Stacy was already late for practice, the girls would be waiting, so she made up her mind. "It's a date."

Rick and Stacy were in the kitchen Thursday morning having their coffee. Amy was eating her cereal, making a mess as usual.

"Rick, remember I have book club tonight after tennis practice. You'll have to pick up Amy from Mom's before six and feed her. I'll be home by ten."

"I can do that. What book are you discussing tonight?"

The question made Stacy pause. Was this a trick question? Stacy took a sip of coffee in order to use the time to get herself under control before answering, but there was still an edge to her tone. "'Water for Elephants'. Why do you ask? You're usually not interested in my book club."

Rick was taken aback a little by Stacy's tone, but realized it was only emblematic of her attitude toward him lately. "I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to be polite." Rick picked up his lunch from the counter, kissed Amy's head and got the hell out of the house before he lost his cool.

Rick's quick departure wasn't lost on Stacy. At first, she was angry at Rick for leaving without saying good-bye; then she realized how she probably hadn't said anything nice to Rick in weeks.

Before first period, Kyle dropped into Stacy's room. He surveyed the room to make certain he wouldn't be overheard. "We have a table at Carmen's for six. And a room across the street at the Hilton. Don't be late to dinner, I know you need to get back home tonight and I'll need every minute with you to make up for the months I've waited to have you alone."

"I have to be home by ten o'clock."

"Should we skip dinner?"

Stacy laughed quietly; the door was still open. "Nice try, buddy, but I'm looking forward to a nice meal with a good glass of wine or two and no children."

"And afterwards?"

"That, too. Now get out of here."

Stacy didn't know how she kept her cool all day and through tennis practice. She dismissed the team a few minutes early at ten to five.

Everything was going as planned. After tennis practice, Stacy waited until all the girls were finished in the locker room before changing from her sweats into the little black dress that she last wore when Rick took her to the Crystal Room for New Year's Eve. When was that -- almost three years ago? When they had money to do things like that. It was the last time she wore the CFM four-inch heels with the thigh high black stockings. Stacy made one last inspection of herself in the full-length mirror; she knew Kyle Turner was going to like what he saw this evening and even more so when the dress came off. Stacy stared at her reflection and tried to reassure herself. "I deserve this."

The clothes she wore to school that day were in the small travel case. She would shower and change at the hotel before going home. Her hair was in a stylish ponytail, eliminating any need to shampoo and dry it afterwards.

Stacy left the building, locking the doors behind her and was walking to her car when a blue Honda pulled up. Angel Martinez, one of the seniors on the tennis team, practically jumped out of the Honda.

"Mrs. Wilson, thank goodness I caught you before you left. I left my Ethics class textbook and notes in my locker and I have a test tomorrow. Can you let me in so I can get it? Please?"

Stacy was embarrassed getting caught by one of her students dressed like this. She told Angel to follow her and walked back to the locker room with Angel chattering all the way.

"Mrs. Wilson, you look so elegant tonight. On a weeknight. Are you and Mr. Wilson celebrating something special tonight? Like an anniversary or something?"

Before Stacy could answer, Angel kept on chattering. "I used to be sooo embarrassed whenever my mom and dad went out like that. Mom would be wearing something kind of sexy and Dad would have on a nice sports coat. They'd come home and it was like -- "get a room" because they'd be hugging and kissing. And me, I was at that age where you can't stand the thought of your parents doing it, right?"

Angel was talking louder now as Stacy stayed by the door and Angel was at her locker. Angel came back with her book and notebook in her hands, still talking. "Then, when I got old enough to figure it out, I was kind of proud of them. Here they are, after almost twenty years together and three kids, and they're still in love. How cool is that?"

They were now at their respective cars and Angel looked right in Stacy's eyes. "Have fun tonight, Mrs. Wilson. I've seen your husband -- he's a hunk. No wonder you two still have it all going on!" And she drove away.

Stacy stood outside her car with the door open and she lost it. Sobbing uncontrollably and talking to herself. "What a stupid selfish damn fool I've been. 'I deserve this?' That's what I told myself? What I deserve is to lose my family for what I considered doing. When did I become so selfish and self-centered?"

No one answered Stacy's questions. It took her a good ten minutes before her tears cleared so she could begin driving home. She was so distraught, she never even considered how she was dressed. All she wanted to do was hug her husband and child.

Rick had spent the day in a funk. How did his life turn into such a burden? Where was the joy? The bills just kept piling up. The little things that once made life worth the struggle had mostly disappeared, especially the love he and Stacy once shared. He was able to suck it up for most of past two years, he owed it to his little girl to be strong. But since at least February, Stacy couldn't look him in the eye or give him the love he needed.

Rick left work earlier than normal, "Fuck this!" he thought. He considered stopping at the pub for a pint before heading to his mother-in-law's to pick up Amy. Instead, he decided to head home and enjoy a couple hours of peace and quiet. This turned out to be a big mistake.

Rick collected the mail out of the box near the street and made the mistake of opening two envelops with "Past Due" stamped on the outside of each. How fucking embarrassing! Rick went inside, read both notices and wondered where he was going to scrounge up another fifteen hundred dollars by the end of the month.

Rick walked past the refrigerator with its two cans of cheap lager and reached up to the top cabinet above the stove where they kept a bottle of bourbon for whenever the Colonel came to visit. An overwhelming feeling of despair and depression washed through him after he drank the first shot of liquor. He poured a second shot.

Over the past three months, Rick had given it a lot of thought. He knew the why, he knew the how, the only decision left until this evening was the when.

The why? Well, the main reason - Rick was worth more dead than alive. The Wilson family's dire financial situation would be improved by an injection of capital once the life insurance was paid. Another reason -- life just wasn't worth it anymore. Rick was tired of playing Sisyphus, rolling the rock up the hill only to have it roll back down time after time. It was tolerable when he did it as a team, with Stacy at his side, lightening the load with her smiles and loving; but for at least the past half-year, he was pushing that rock up the hill all by himself.

The how? This took a great deal more thought. It shouldn't appear to be a suicide - for two reasons. It would hurt Amy if she grew up to someday learn her father committed suicide. The second reason was financial. Rick's quarter-million-dollar life insurance policy would pay double if the death was an accident.

The perfect solution, as with so many perfect solutions, was right in front of him. Every day, on the way to and from town, Rick passed 'Dead Man's Curve'.

Dead Man's Curve got its name after the second of two cars plunged off the cliff into the ravine below. It was a dangerous section on the old road between downtown and the development where the Wilson's lived. Years ago, the city created an alternative to downtown after determining the highway department couldn't fix the curve and make it safe. The city even considered condemning the road, but too many people complained about the closure since the alternative took an extra twelve minutes to get downtown. The city kept it open, put up a cheap guardrail, and lowered the speed limit around the curve to 15MPH.

That left the when, which was answered as Rick finished the second shot of bourbon. "No time like the present." He may have said it out loud, but no one was in the kitchen to hear him, so maybe it was only in his own mind. Rick picked up the keys to his pickup, the truck wouldn't have any trouble making its way through the flimsy barriers on the curve.

Rick stopped as he opened the door. Damn, would two shots of bourbon affect his blood-alcohol level to the point he'd be considered legally impaired? Would that affect the insurance payout? Rick decided it wasn't worth the chance; he ran back into the house, purged himself into the toilet, rinsed his mouth out and cleaned the shot glass before putting it away.

Ten minutes later Rick was sitting in the truck, the motor idling, staring at the curve as he worked up the courage to take the plunge.

Stacy decided to take the short-cut home to save a few precious minutes, although she rarely used the old road. Tonight was an exception, she was in a hurry to get home before Rick, in time to get out of her whore's outfit and look like a mom and wife.

Stacy rounded the corner and slowed down to negotiate the curve when she saw Rick's truck on the other side. Why was he here? It was in the opposite direction from her mother's house. The truck had just started to move when Stacy laid on her horn.