When Do You Pull The Pin?

At the start of the meat of this story I was 28 years old and my name was Amy Raskind nee Bowers. I was married to Bruce Raskind since I was 25 and he was two weeks shy of his 28th birthday.

I've been told that some readers of stories like to have the main characters described to them rather than use their imagination. Tough Titties!

Ha, ha; I said that just to see if you're awake or already nodding off; so OK as objectively as possible I'll describe Bruce and me.

Bruce is six feet one inch (185 cm) tall, about 180 pounds (82 kg), brown hair, hazel eyes, no facial hair or glasses, really good looking, a graduate of a top twenty law school in the U. S. Most women would rate his looks between a 9 and 9.9 on a ten point scale.

I'm five feet nine inches (175 cm) tall, about 135 pounds (61 kg), caramel blonde hair (natural, not dyed), blue eyes, no facial hair (gotcha) or glasses, a graduate of a top twenty university with a Master's degree in non-profit management. Being as objective as possible I think that most men would rate my looks an 8 on a ten point scale; however, men that I've come across in my contacts with mankind have a wide variety of tastes so I guess for some I'd be a 9.5, others a 5.5. All would have to agree that I have a nice butt and toned legs, however.

What the name of my first pet was, who I had a crush on in 5th grade, what sports I played, what my favorite color is, etc., have no relevance to this story. The only other four background points that I'll relate -- because they do have some relevance -- are:

1) When I've moved from one stage or situation in my life to others I've been accused of pulling the pin on a hand grenade and tossing it into the previous stage or situation.

2) Tim Rowan, a really good looking guy in my High School, was exposed as gay our junior year. Because of the conservative community that we lived in he was ostracized by many of our classmates. I stood by him -- he was one of my best friends -- and I even went to the prom with him to try and tone down some of the haters (it didn't work). After college he moved to the same metropolitan area that Bruce and I live in and I've had lunch with him occasionally but since one of Bruce's bad qualities is homophobia I never got them together.

3) Bruce came into a substantial trust fund when he turned thirty. I have a prenup with him so if we divorce for any reason I don't get access to his trust fund -- however that does give him significant bucks to pay off a damage award if I can successfully sue him for other reasons.

4) I get along well with everyone at the non-profit that I am vice-chairman of. I especially get along well with the chairman, Able Aaronson. Brainstorming and working together Able and I have raised more than twice as much money, and serviced more than three times as many indigent kids, as before we both started working at Bootstraps LLC. Over 90% of the money that we raise goes directly into programs for kids. Bootstraps has a remote (actually very remote) relationship with a couple of religious organizations.

***********

The first two years of marriage to Bruce was between good and excellent. The sex was good and frequent and we both seemed to like the same positions, acts, and intensity. He liked the concubine position a little more than I did; I liked the face off position a little more than he did. Both positions were in our stable of our twelve most enjoyable positions. He liked head; I didn't mind it and sucked his cock to completion about every fortnight. I loved cunnilingus but he rarely provided it, usually only once every few months when I promised him my ass (which I didn't like but he did) if he would perform cunnilingus.

Shortly after Bruce came into his trust fund he started to imperceptibly change -- then he perceptibly changed.

I always knew that Bruce wasn't the most tolerant of people, but in apparent deference to me he had hidden his prejudices well -- except for the homophobia thing. I don't know what it was about him getting his trust fund money but he didn't seem to care anymore about his prejudices coming to the surface.

The first time that it really bothered me was when I heard him talking with another attorney at a party hosted by his law firm. He was bragging about getting a family of people of color evicted from the house they were renting. While I understand that people have to pay their way that doesn't mean that you should rejoice in the misery of others, especially since this family had three little kids. The manner in which he referred to them, and got joy out of their desperate situation, made me queasy. Then he was surprised when I didn't warm up to him that night.

Another time we were walking down a city street. A homeless man came up to us -- not aggressively but deferentially -- looking for a handout. I politely said no but wished him well. Bruce went out of his way to knock the guy over, and then laughed. When I called him on his boorish behavior he got mad at me.

He had hidden his sexism well during our relationship -- again until he came into his trust fund. After some minor displays of it he demonstrated just how much of a pig he is when we were at a party talking with a guy who was big into basketball when I made a statement well recognized in the basketball world about how difficult it is to rebound when playing a zone defense. His comment to the other guy was "Ha, what does a woman know about basketball."

I was startled for a second then interrupted him as he was saying something else to the other guy. "What the fuck was that comment?" I snarled. "I played for my High School and Division III college teams; you've never played a refereed game in your life," Then I stormed off. He later blamed me for embarrassing me. I told him "If you don't want to be embarrassed don't say sexist things that you don't know anything about."

Things went from bad to worse when we were at his parents' house on Christmas Eve (when they celebrate) and his present to me was a vacuum cleaner. Bruce's mom and sister were non-plussed, especially since I gave him a particular diving watch -- something he wanted badly and was hard to get. When before dinner he came up to me and said "I was embarrassed when you didn't thank me for my Christmas present," I replied "Tough shit," got the car keys from his coat pocket in the front closet and left -- without the fucking vacuum cleaner. The next day I went to my parents' house for Christmas Day on my own.

During this time I was wondering when to pull the pin on what had become a bad marriage because it was clear that he didn't respect me, and I had lost almost all respect for him. Then two days after Christmas I knew that I had to pull the pin -- the question was just the timing.

My company was off between Christmas and New Year's while Bruce had to go into work. When I was cleaning the house -- without my "cherished" Christmas present -- I was moving some things on the floor of our closets -- something I hadn't done for a long time -- when I picked up a box and something fell out. It was a nicely wrapped present with a gift tag on it that said "To: Cheryl, From: Bruce." Since my name isn't Cheryl, but Amy, I concluded that I needed to investigate.

I carefully opened up the present without destroying the wrapping paper or ribbon (It obviously wasn't wrapped by Bruce -- he doesn't have the patience to wrap something so nicely). Inside was an emerald neckless and a syrupy note.

I immediately took the neckless to a local jeweler and asked for a quick appraisal -- not something that would hold up in court, I just wanted to know if it was a real emerald or paste. After only a cursory inspection with a loop he said "Yes, it's a real emerald and fairly good quality to boot; and the chain is 18 carat gold."

"Just a rough ballpark estimate; how much would it cost retail?" I inquired.

"Somewhere between $2,500 and $4,000," he replied, "It would require a more detailed analysis to be sure but that is probably what I would charge."

I had no reason to smile at that -- but I did -- considering that my cherished Christmas present, which was still at his parents' house as far as I knew, was worth $239.99. My smile indicated no remorse or second guessing about pulling the pin.

I re-wrapped the neckless when I got home and returned it to its hiding location. I suspected that the aforementioned Cheryl was a single paralegal working in his office. When we went to a New Year's party hosted by one of the partners in his firm and paralegal Cheryl was wearing the emerald necklace that was confirmed. How I kept a smile on my face and even kissed Bruce when the clock struck midnight was a testament to my childhood drama classes.

**************

Within two weeks the affair between Bruce and Cheryl was confirmed by photos and audio taken by an industrious P I that I had hired. Now I just needed to come out of the divorce in the best position possible. I do have a devious mind so I worked up a scenario that if he reacted the way that I expected him to would hurt Bruce in two significant ways. The first blow would be to his overblown ego; the second blow would be to his pocketbook.

To succeed I needed the help of Tim Rowan and Able Aaronson. I had no doubt that I could get it because both of them really liked me. I also needed one other person who I hoped maybe Tim or Able could recommend because I didn't want to involve any of my female friends.

I approached Tim about what I wanted. He got a big grin and laughed "In view of what a loyal friend you have always been I'm happy to help -- as long as I don't have to actually fuck you."

That got him a punch in the ribs from me. "It would turn you straight, Fairy," I chuckled, "but no chance of that."

I then went to Able and told him what I needed. He was willing to help but said "Do you have to leave our non-profit; how will we thrive without you?"

"Only for a few months -- I estimate six-seven months tops," I replied with a smile.

"OK, I'm on board," he chuckled.

"One more thing, do you have a recommendation for a female who I could use as a fake conversion therapist?"

Able laughed, and then looked pensive. He wrote on a piece of paper "Joan Greene, xxx-xxx-3287." "I think that she'd be perfect," he chortled.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"She's the drama teacher at Northwest Community College, and a lesbian. You might have to pay her but I think that she'd jump at the chance," Able responded.

And so started my plan to divorce Bruce and come out of it in excellent financial condition.

************

Over the next three weeks I made it obvious to Bruce that I was "having an affair." It didn't take him long to put a P I on me -- a guy who my P I recognized and consulted with me on how to reel him in.

When I knew that the P I was following me Tim and I went to a Motel 6 in a suburb about fifteen minutes away on a Wednesday at lunch time. We hugged at the door to room 112, he produced a key, and we went inside.

In the room was Joan Greene, playing a conversion therapist. She was so good she could have come from central casting. To start out the "session" on video she explained: "Now Tim, this is a start to your conversion therapy from gay to straight. I need you to acknowledge to the camera that you are not under any duress to participate in this, with Amy as your witness. Can you do that?"

With a very serious look -- I guess that Tim has some latent acting ability in him -- he said "Yes, Dr. Simmons, I acknowledge that I am here of my own free will and have signed documents to that effect and relieve you of all responsibility."

"Why do you want to enter into this program?" Joan Greene, aka Dr. Simmons, asked.

"Amy has a female friend of hers that is interested in me who is very nice and personable and I want to find a way to be interested in Amy's friend, so that I might eventually have a family," Tim replied in a very serious voice.

"OK, now I'll turn the camera off because we do not want anyone else to view the session or even know about it except for the three of us," Joan said, and then did turn off the camera.

The three of us laughed hysterically for a while. Then Joan brought out sandwiches and drinks. We had lunch while discussing a myriad of things -- the three of got along really well -- and by the time that we had finished ninety minutes had passed since Tim and I had entered the room.

Tim and I thanked Joan -- I paid her the agreed-upon sum -- and then Tim and I left arm-in-arm. We hugged -- we didn't kiss on the lips -- and got into our cars. Joan waited another twenty minutes before exiting.

Tim, Joan, and I repeated our subterfuge the next Wednesday at lunch at a Holiday Inn in a different suburb, with Bruce's P I following me.

The first part of my plan worked. The next Monday a process server served me at work with divorce papers alleging adultery. I made a big scene at work, Able called me into his office, reviewed the papers, and in a loud manner, making sure that everyone else on our floor could hear him, fired me for being an adulteress. I left the office in tears.

Inspired by Joan and Tim and channeling my drama lessons as a kid I was becoming a great actress too.

As I knew that he would -- to salvage his ego -- Bruce publicized my affair with Tim -- despite the fact that the very day that I was served I recorded him and me on my iPhone. I was crying while I explained to him that I was just helping a friend with conversion therapy. "How fucking stupid do you think that I am? -- now get the fuck out of my house," was his response.

I didn't contest the divorce.

I did hire the best bad-ass defamation attorney in the state and sued Bruce once we had proof that Bruce had posted my affair on various forms of social media, told his family and the people he worked with (including Cheryl), and people he knew who worked at Bootstraps LLC.

Since I had saved a fair amount of money preparing for the situation that I was now in after sending out fake resumes to others in the non-profit community (which I had return-receipt-requested forms for) I enjoyed myself. I worked out for two hours every day getting in the best shape of my life since I played basketball in college, took some higher level courses at the local university, lounged by the pool, and went out with girlfriends to plays and clubs. I had no real contact with men since Bruce's P I was still hanging around.

As part of my suit against Bruce my attorney took the depositions of Tim and Able.

During Tim's deposition my attorney played what "Dr. Simmons" had recorded during our two sessions and Tim confirmed under oath that he was in fact gay, had never had any type of relationship with me except platonic friends, and quit the conversion therapy after the second session because it was worthless and he didn't really want to change but had only gone through with the two sessions because I asked him to.

During Able's deposition he confirmed that I had been fired because he perceived that the religious organizations that we had relationships with would consider it scandalous that I had had an affair while married to Bruce and that it was his understanding -- confirmed by the fact that "nobody" responded to my resumes -- no one in the local non-profit world would hire me. [No one responded because Able asked them not to.] Able also testified that I had forgone a significant end of the year bonus tied to my exemplary fund-raising performance during the year.

I provided documents showing my expenses since being kicked out of the house I shared with Bruce, and testified about how emotionally distraught I had become because of his false accusations of adultery and his refusal to accept my honest explanation -- supported by my iPhone video.

Just to tweak Bruce, make him look bad at his law firm, and scare him with the possibility that his affair with Cheryl would be exposed (I never mentioned that in the divorce) my attorney deposed the managing partner of his firm (the manager was really pissed off for having to sit for the deposition and I hoped that he would take it out on Bruce) and Cheryl.

The managing partner confirmed that he had heard of Bruce's allegations of adultery.

Cheryl also confirmed that Bruce had told her of my adultery; she was scared shitless during her entire deposition because my attorney hinted all around her affair with Bruce but never brought it out.

I also made sure that my suit was covered extensively in the local media, and that Bruce's firm knew that it was.

Shortly after the last of the depositions discussed above was completed Bruce's attorney called mine to set up a meeting. We agreed to it but only on our terms, essentially telling them that if they didn't like the date, time, and place we would see them in court.

I do believe -- confirmed by gossip sometime later -- that the managing partner of Bruce's firm told him to settle or else so my attorney and I were complete hard-asses at the meeting. Ultimately, I got $500,000 from Bruce's trust fund, he paid all of my attorney's fees for both the divorce and the defamation action, I got a 60-40 split of community assets during our marriage, and he paid for a retraction in the local newspaper of his allegations of adultery. He also retracted his assertions on all social media sites he had posted on, and sent letters to Bootstraps LLC and all of the companies that I had sent resumes to retracting his allegations.

The check from his trust fund, the monetary aspects of the finalization of our divorce, payment to my attorney, my name change back to my maiden name of Amy Bowers, all of the retractions, and the finalization of our divorce, came through within a two week period.

************

Two days after the last of these things came through I showed up at Able's house about six p. m. He gave me a big smile as I entered and I planted the most passionate kiss I could muster on his lips. When we broke our clinch he mumbled "I've really missed you Amy," as he kissed me again and rubbed his hands over my boobs.

"Me, or my pussy?" I chuckled.

"You most, then your pussy -- a close second," he chuckled back.

"I don't know if you're interested, but I don't have any undies on -- just like you prefer it," I giggled.

"You're so bad," he grumbled as he lifted me up, carried me to the kitchen table, plopped me down on it, dropped his pants and boxers, and without further ado shoved the mushroom head of his girthy cock up my anxious vagina.

After I screamed "Oh God, I so missed making love to you," we got down to the serious business of fucking each other's brains out. I almost went comatose when I came. When he finished pumping his final charge of cum into me and recovered he kissed me again.

"When can you move in?" he inquired.

"How about this Saturday," I grinned.

He grinned back then continued "When can we start trying to make babies?"

"As soon as you make an honest woman out of me I'll go off the pill; but for propriety's sake shouldn't we wait a while?"

"Fuck propriety," he snorted. "Your attorney told me that your settlement is ironclad and what happened before it is irrelevant no matter what it was. Let's get married later this month."

"Hmmm," I laughed, "I'll think about it as you fuck me in your bed."

Off we went; pin pulled; grenade detonated; happily ever after for me, hopefully not for Bruce!