Three Leather Jacket Tassels Ch. 03

What had happened was t'at both Paul and I sensed t'at something was very off, only we couldn't figure out what t'at was. Our wives started ignoring us, our needs, even a few of da responsibilities with da children. With t'em lying to us all da time Paul and I were at a loss for answers. When both our kids went away to summer camp last year things really took a turn for da worse.

I have to say t'at that country boy's senses are far keener than this city boy's. Paul's senses are so sharp he could probably solve the mystery of who started da Great Chicago Fire. I'll never doubt him again. Paul suggested t'at he t'ought maybe our wives were becoming lovers.

I t'ought it was very farfetched and refused to accept t'at explanation. Our relationship with da Morrises almost ended since Eny vehemently denied having any feelings for Paulette, or for any other women.

But like a snake, totally reliant on its senses, its gut intuition, Paul persisted until he caught t'em redhanded in the act itself. Then, on top of everything, Paul decided t'at he had to make a complete fool out of me just because I trusted t'at my wife had told me da truth. He caught t'em in da act of making love by spying on t'em t'rough da frunchroom of his house, I understand.

My guess is t'at he paid someone to watch t'em. We had been keeping an extremely close eye on t'em together for a time until I decided I had had enough. I am told Paul joined t'em in t'at same bed for a t'reesome. In a way all t'ree of t'em made a joke out of my marriage vows.

The entire ordeal is still dragging out to this day, a year later, with Eny living with Emilia in our house and me living with da Morrises in t'eir basement, by da graces Paulette's persistent and generous invitations.

Paulette made Paul agree to let me stay by telling him t'at if I left, she would leave him. She felt responsible for everything. Including her hubby's ignorant decisions. Paulette told me t'at she was also doing this for Eny because she wanted her to feel comfortable around me again even t'ough Eny did da damn cheating.

I guess they knew I still loved my wife but was just too appalled to let things get back to normal so quickly, unless she apologized. I had made a big fuss being the little Napoleon some people like to call me.

I had gone to Eny's office da day after her affair and we argued and talked for hours. She accused me of not caring about her job because I scared away some of her prospects, because I was livid over her infidelity with Paul and Paulette.

"So, all da sudden I am a cuckold now, you slut!? You are my wife!! Now you went ahead and fucked t'e neighbors!!!" I cried.

Everyone t'ought I should have waited to lose myself like t'at when t'ere were less people around. It's true. But from years of being a hard-ass in business I learned t'at having people around was better when you're da boss. I guess I forgot t'at I wasn't da boss t'ere. I guess it was a teachable moment, but for me. People were watching from t'eir desks and from da waiting area.

"It only happened once! The affair's over, you narcissistic, Chi-town tool! Now I know why they call this Windy City!! Because you're just so full of hot air!!!" She shot back in a wild scoff.

"T'e affair's over, huh, you tramp!? With Paul??! Or with Paulette? You dyke!!!" I countered as she began to cry.

To shut me up she told me t'at I should not have let her become t'at close with Paulette to begin with. Before I left, I kept yelling out t'at I was no cuckold and t'at things would change one way or anot'er. After t'at day my wife refused to open da' door for me at home.

She just handed me a suitcase she packed for me herself. I couldn't even see my kid. I didn't fight it because I also knew t'at if I pushed her too far she might end up relapsing into drugs, possibly have to check into a mental hospital, or worse. She had been t'ere before. I couldn't allow t'at, especially now wit' Emilia in da picture.

I refused to talk to Eny after we had our fight. I even tried finding a hotel room. Paulette insisted I stay with t'em. She had Paul come to get me at da front desk before I could check myself into da Chicago Marriott.

The Morrises were da only two people who took pity on me, Paulette more so t'an Paul. When she heard t'at I couldn't even get one of my jackets out of da closet for the Fall weather, Paulette offered me Paul's favorite leather tasseled jacket to wear.

Later on, he actually saw me wearin' it and he was furious, but kept t'at all to himself. I suppose he was guilty about what he had done. I rat'er enjoyed it 'cause I was still sorta' mad at him.

Chapter 3.2

Brandon Acts

T'e neighborhood was also going t'rough lots and lots of changes. Eny and her competitors had been sellin' tons of property to newcomers who walked around wearing black. I secretly wondered if it was time time to move. We stuck around in da past because Paul and I were such good friends. T'at had changed. T'ere was much more noise on da street and more stray cats were prowling around at night.

Worse yet was da day I left da Morris' house early in da morning and t'ere were rows and rows of crows perched up on da roof, da windows and even da terrace; honest ta Gaad. The cats and da crows seemed to maintain a noisy relationship well into da night and I got the brunt of t'at because I was down in da basement. Was it all in my head t'ough?

Maybe because I was heartbroken I only saw things now t'at had always been t'ere. In the past t'ere had been stray cats t'at would sometimes walk with you to your vehicle every morning. T'ey meowed for your attention. But now t'ere seemed to be so many more of t'em. Were all these weirdos bringing t'em in from the city?

Walking to my car one morning I remember coming across a bird eatin' scraps from da front of the driveway. It was a ravishing beauty of a crow really. So black t'at it seemed painted by a brush.

It took off as I was backing my car out of da driveway. A divine inky bird. I named her t'at, Inky. Was she a prognosticator of doom? I knew it was her waitin' for me every morning because she also had a distinctive caw. I was so lonely t'at da sad bird became my one stable relationship for t'ose miserable months.

All of my parents old Greek superstitions began tormenting me. But little did I know t'at things were about to become very interesting and fun again, indeed. For me, particularly.

I told Paul I was afraid Eny would take my daughter away and move her to her parent's in New York. I quietly confided in Paul t'at if t'at happened, I was finished.

Somehow I found ways to forgive him aldough I knew I wasn't completely ready to trust him again.

I also think it helped when I stopped wearing his suede tasseled jacket around him to punish him. Friendships like ours never really die.

"Well, I sure am grateful to ya' for any measure of forgiveness, partner," he said in earnest, looking me in t'e eyes inside of his game room. We were surrounded by his hunting trophies and some of his folksy music recording memorabilia.

"But Paul, how can I know you won't be tempted to sleep with Eny ever again?"

"I was thinking with the wrong head, Bran. That's for damn sure, man."

"Well, da wrong head better not get any more big ideas!"

"Y'all are friends! I admit that it was a mistake to get suckered by that foxy gal's charms, but I'm a man. It's over between us, Bran. I finally realize that Eny's bat shit crazy! But that don't mean ma' best pal can't love her to death!!"

"Awww, I appreciate dat, Paulie" I said, deeply touched by his kind words. It was modesty that made Paul so lovable.

"I also happen to know that that lady may not be the best wife but she sure is a darn good mother. She doesn't let Emilia go to bed without sayin' her prayers and makes sure that Emilia is close to her grandparents on both sides. Especially the ones that she has abroad over in Iceland."

Paul and I were slowly making up even though we did become more like strangers in t'at house. He was also in da middle of writing and recording anot'er masterpiece of an album with two singles already downloading well on da net.

The new singles afforded him a huge advance and da agent who discovered him a small Lear jet. I don't know how Paul did it, but he was talented. Apparently da two songs were heavily influenced on faith.

One was titled My Black Mariah and was inspired by da poet Emily Dickinson. It was also da title of the album.

T'e song started with da lyrics: "Dear heaven, there's a bird in my house, ain't no cat's milk for the strays because I fear somebody's about to die. Tired of making a living off the wages of sin, chasing women and having the same ol' wild nights!"

I had told Paul about my parent's old superstitions about birds and I guess he took some of t'em to heart. I believed his words in t'at game room. Especially after I heard his song on da radio for da first time. Also because Paul seemed to really be going t'rough t'e wringer.

T'at affair really did a number on him! We had a lot of discussions in t'at game room of his. On a few other nights we were also in better spirits if it was after dinner. Paulette tried to cook his favorite dishes every night to help keep him inspired, and she could cook well, that lady.

"Been eatin' so much fried chicken lately, from my babygirl, I don't even feel like singing, I almost feel called to preach!" Paul proudly proclaimed aloud almost every night; praising her craft after one of us said grace.

A harmonica and his antique wooden stool was all he needed to write beautiful songs. He was hard at work finishing everything up at da recording studio. T'at affair with my wife did indeed cast a "black mariah "over his head, as he put it. We saw he was often depressed around da house and even consulted a therapist, I understand.

In da shade I often noticed Paul talking to his wife in private. I could interpret t'at he was most likely quietly advising her to stay away from me when he wasn't around to supervise. T'e thing that made Paul feel completely safe with me in his house was t'at Paulette was five months pregnant by then. It would be t'eir first together.

I think timing contributed to what would happen next, because Paulette was often left all alone with me in t'at house. T'e kids were away at school for most of da day. Paulette was somber and miserable. I did my best to cheer her up when I wasn't away at da office.

My daughter Emilia went to da same school as the Morrises kids. The Morrises were still acting as go-betweens for me and Eny for da time being. Eny was kind of out of da picture. Paul's obsession with buttoning up his latest album had him at da studio working all day. Sometimes into part of da night since he was also doing the promotion for the album.

"Did I just let my drinking get outta hand!? Hair of the dog. Drinking for breakfast don't help none. Wanna' come inside and I'll pour ya' some mead!? Hate drinkin' alone," were also words in the lyrics to Paul's new song t'at ended with, "it's called self medication, brothers and sisters; friends and enemies."

Sometimes when I was alone in da house with his wife for long hours she would hardly come out to greet me. It was an uncomfortable time. A sordid time, and Halloween just around da corner just made it stranger.

Paulette's vulnerability eventually became very enticing to me because it seemed like t'ere was a lot of flirting going on. So much t'at I wondered if I was seducing her or if she was seducing me. She would join me and her husband for cards after dinner; sometimes dressed quite provocatively but looking sad.

Paul's body language when I talked to his wife in front of him told me he didn't approve of me staying t'ere at all. On the weekdays, Paul was always picked up by his manager's Rolls Royce.

I suspected t'at Paulette would wait until I left before coming out of t'eir bedroom for da day. I knew she was probably walking around in her sexy lingerie before waking up da kids and getting t'em ready for school.

Sometimes I ran into Paul early in da morning. When I did, we stringed along sterile conversations with him in da kitchen. I would watch him sifting t'rough e-mails on his laptop. I noticed a coolness between t'em since Paulette's pregnancy. T'ere were really no goodbye kisses, or even I love yous like t'ere certainly had been in da past.

It made me wonder if he found her attractive at all since she got pregnant. To me she was positively glowing. When I was near her I have to admit to lusting after her body and wanting to consummate t'e growing attraction we seemed to have for each other.

T'ere were also giggles at night, clearly hers when I would have my snacks near where they slept. T'eir bedroom was right next to da dinette table and kitchen where I would eat. What angered me was t'at Paul didn't even want me to watch T.V. with Paulette when he wasn't t'ere. Paulette had warned him t'at we were wary of him too. Eny was just next door, after all.

Paul had been acting very strangely. He kept going on and on about da life of Emily Dickinson, honest ta Gaad. It was his favorite topic of conversation. Paul even went as far as to say t'at he knew her but we knew t'at he was probably so exhausted t'at he was becoming delusional. He seemed to be using her as a way of coping with da guilt in his conscience.

On another night, Paulette seemed to be flirting with me and Paul snared her away, taking her aside. He talked to her in private in t'eir room. I remained in da dinette room and she surprised me a few minutes later by coming out again wearing a provocative top t'at showed off her pregnant breasts.

T'ere was a lot that seemed implied between us in t'at house, it was crazy. I began to suspect t'at all t'ree of us had gone nuts. So many t'ings were being left unsaid. I should cut to da chase t'ough. I should begin to sum up how steamy things became. Our first real encounter...

On t'e morning of all Hallow's eve when da dead wander the Earth I distinctly heard a series of muffled sobs as I ate my breakfast in da kitchen near t'eir bedroom. They were coming from t'ere. I couldn't stand it anymore and I was deeply concerned about her, honest ta Gaad.

So, I decided to pretend like I had gone to work for da day. I drove around da block and then doubled back. Maybe it was a bad omen, all t'ose foreboding animals. Maybe it was Emily Dickinson.

Once I entered da house, her bedroom door was wide open. In da pit of my stomach I could sense her anxiety coming from somewhere. I paced around looking for Paulette and found t'at da basement door was ajar. I walked down da stairs quietly and caught her struggling to shut one of da drawers at da foot of da bed.

She was evidently looking t'rough my room and she sat upright on da bed with both hands covering her mouth when she saw me walking back in t'ere. At a complete loss for words, Paulette stood up with one foot over one of her feat'ered slippers, tensely flattening it.

Childishly, she turned her back to me, standing akimbo. Paulette's body looked like it was dying to be made love to under t'at cornflower silk cami set with lace trim and satin French knicker shorts she was wearin'.

Seemingly irate, I slowly approached her, appreciatin' her soft pale skin and her voluptuous figure. Paulette's anxiety made her give off a soapy and delicious scent. The extra roundness of her body seemed unnaturally sensual and voluptuous to me.

"Are you da one stealing da money hidden under my mattress?!" I said, attempting to psyche her out as she turned around and tried walking away. I trapped her by standing at da foot of da stairs.

"Already blew your crazy husband's advance ...did ya' now??" I said; pushing her lightly; making her step backwards towards t'e living area.

"I'll have ta check ya'," I added, gauging as I looked at her wide open eyes t'at her adrenaline level was in overdrive. Her lower lip was quivering as I trapped her against da foot of my bed.

"Let's see what we got here," I said, spinning her body around. I stretched her knicker shorts from behind by da waistband with one finger. I wanted to see t'ose famous milky butt cheeks of her's. Peeking down at t'em, my hand ran down her knicker shorts, and squeezed at her firm yet pillowy rear end.

Her flesh was soft and taut. I rubbed my other hand up and down her back and fondled her large breasts from behind over her silk cami. Soon my t'ick arms were rubbing her body all over as I rocked her against my weight from behind, like a grizzly bear.

"I need your affection ....sweet cheeks ....is it?," I teased, mocking her with da nickname Paul had baptized her with.

"I know Paul called dibs on ya' first, Paulette. But it doesn't matter taa me. I'm willing taa risk everything to be with ya' even one time. I'm not gonna' lie, I've wanted you since da night of da boxing match when you and my wife showed us your tits," as soon as I added t'at, she let out a sexy moan.

"I think you'd like to do to me what Paul did with your wife and me upstairs...Revenge," she responded with a sigh.

T'e stiffness I felt under my tailored suit pants couldn't be repressed for very long. I rubbed my crotch deep into her silk and lace clad butt-cheeks. T'en I continued pulling at da waist band of her lingerie. T'e house was so quiet we could hear da delicate fabric snap. I pulled da waist band upwards sort of giving Paulette's soft tushy a wedgie.

"Don't move, girl. I'm not done with you yet," I commanded, looking down, watching da flesh filling up beneath t'ose shorts. I could have easily cum in my pants but I sucked in my lips and continued dry humping this amazing creature!

"It's not revenge. It's love. Paul doesn't deserve you. Paul loves only Paul. You're mine now, finally. You're all mine!"

I then let da knicker shorts completely drop off her, catching full view of her perfect voluptuous pregnant ass in front of me; a little plump and just heavenly to look at. I don't know how we ended up like t'at. It's just da tremendous guilt and shame we were both feeling t'at got us to t'at point. I had to have her. I had to use all of the charms at my disposal.

Before I knew it we were kissing, and quite passionately, at that, honest ta Gaad. Soon my hands and hers were zooming to my fly, then pulling my belt off. I bent her over da front of my bed and we let my pants drop. I slid my briefs down, releasing my aching cock from t'em one leg at a time over my shoes, almost tripping.

After tossing my briefs over my neatly made bed, I gave her ass a hard slap watching as it quivered. I let my hard, thick, six inch penis smack against her round cheeks once or twice before holding her back down and starting to drill her sweet cunt; invading her pregnant body at quite a pace. At da same time, I squeezed her tits against each other.

"I'm really making love to you now, honey," I repeated; looking at her completely nude body under her cami top, enjoying da pleasure we were having. My rod being shoved into her moist lips again and again at my own pace. Her skin on my skin was just about da best feeling in da world.

"He just ignores me now. I'm fuckin' starved for attention," She moaned out.

"I know, sweetie," I muttered.

I had seen her naked once before. Paul and I had bought a jumbo screen for his long laminate terrace. Both of our wives flashed us because we stopped playing poker with t'em in order to watch da boxing match.

"I'm here to help with all t'ose needs of yours, honey," I said lifting her cami top over her enlarged breasts and cupping 'em, almost roaring as I started rocking into her faster in just my shirt 'n' tie. Her nipples and aureolas had darkened by several shades since I had seen t'em last.

"I didn't know this came with da basement. Is pussy in da contract, sweetie?' I asked, hearing her cum as I squeezed her tits harder. So hard I could actually feel breast milk on my hand. I rubbed Paulette's womb with mommy milk; it felt hard underneath; yet soft.