X-Rated

Deanna watched as Paul entered their bedroom and began moving his clothing into the closet in the guest room. She tried to think of something to say but couldn't, so she kept silent and continued packing.

[::::::::::}

Deanna took care of some of the business that needed addressing, including notifying the school library that she would be unavailable. They were disappointed but told her to just let them know when she was ready again.

She had planned to spend 2-3 days at home before driving back out to California. She had expected to spend most of that time bonding with her husband, maybe some cuddling and lovemaking to tide them both over until she got back. But Paul was barely speaking to her and only when necessary, so she decided to just leave early. After all, the sooner she left the sooner she would get back.

Her car was loaded with everything she thought she would need. She had just returned from California 1-1/2 days ago and now she was getting ready to leave again. She was up early, wanting to get on the road early. She knew the drive would take a few days. She was surprised Paul was not in bed when she woke, and even more so when she found him waiting for her in the kitchen. He poured her a cup of coffee and gave her a moment to take a sip.

"You don't have to do this, Dee. We can get some counseling, together for sure and for yourself if you want. Or whatever we think. But we can't do it if you're in California. Please don't go."

"I'm sorry, Paul. I want to go, and the truth is I think I need to go, too. I need this for me and I'm asking you to please understand."

With that, Paul went to the kitchen sink and poured out the rest of his coffee, rinsing the cup and putting it straight into the dishwasher. He grabbed his keys from the counter and walked to the front door to leave for work. Deanna followed, calling his name, not wanting to leave it like this.

"Paul!"

Paul stopped and turned back to his wife, the sadness evident in his eyes.

"Drive safely, Deanna."

He walked outside and closed the door.

[::::::::::}

The drive itself was uneventful. Deanna timed her arrival at Melissa's apartment for the afternoon. The girls were all home and came out to help her unload her things. She got settled quickly and then went over to the studio/office to sign her contract. Again, the sooner she signed, the sooner it ended, and the sooner she could go home. It's not that she was in a hurry to get it over with; she wouldn't have agreed otherwise. It was 6 months no matter what, so if that 6 months ends a day earlier then that's a day sooner to get back to her husband and rebuild her marriage.

The 6 months went quickly and smoothly. Since they were paying her by the scene, Deanna made a point of performing in as many as she could stand, taking brief breaks for a few days here and there. That way it was more money plus she was maximizing the use of the time away from her husband. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right.

When they asked her to a scene with two men, she agreed immediately.

When they asked her to do a scene with a man and a woman, she hesitated briefly before accepting. She had no problem sucking the other woman's tits, but Deanna's reticence in licking her pussy was evident. Melissa, who had done several lesbian scenes and had to learn to like it herself, encouraged her mom to just go for it. Eventually, she grew to not just manage to do it but to enjoy it.

So much so that by month 3, Deanna was doing straight lesbian scenes. They even got her to perform in a lesbian GILF scene that had her in a three-way with a younger woman Melissa's age and a woman who was a year older than her own mother.

If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right.

[::::::::::}

For Deanna, the 6 months ended too early. She had been having so much fun; not just the half-year of amazing sex she'd had, with more partners and in more ways than she'd ever had, but for the time she got to spend with her daughter. She hadn't realized how much she had missed Melissa when she moved out and this time with her was invaluable to her.

But she had made a promise to her husband and she still loved him very much, so she was also looking forward to getting back to her life with Paul. So, she loaded up her car and began the drive back home to Texas.

When she pulled into the driveway, the first thing she noticed was the new Audi. Paul had always been more of a domestic guy, preferring to buy American. Plus, he hadn't mentioned anything about wanting to get something new, but perhaps this was one of the ways he had treated himself while she was gone. She certainly couldn't begrudge him the purchase and it wasn't like they couldn't afford it.

She decided to unload later. The closer she got to home the more eager to see her husband she had found herself. She had decided not to come visit during the 6 months. She felt the pain that would be caused by her again leaving to resume her porn career would be cruel.

Deanna tried her key. It slid in but wouldn't turn. She kept struggling with it, certain it was somehow something she was doing wrong, when the door suddenly opened with the safety chain firmly in place. She was surprised to see a very attractive blonde woman open the door. She wore yoga pants and an oversized tee shirt, and was probably in her early thirties.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

Deanna was surprised to see a woman opening the door. Her mind was trying to make sense of it. Did Paul have a woman over? Had he been dating while she was gone? She was lost in her own head and didn't answer, so the woman spoke again.

"Excuse me, miss? Can I help you?"

Deanna looked up at the blonde's pretty, blue eyes and came back to reality.

"I...my key doesn't work," Deanna said, numbly.

"Is there some reason it would?" the woman questioned.

"I live here. Or I thought I did. I did 6 months ago for sure. Is...Paul...here?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know who that is. I live here with my husband and 2 kids."

"When did you buy it?"

"We didn't. We're renting it for a year while they build our house in a new subdivision a few miles away."

"May I ask how long you've lived here?"

"About 4 months."

"Did the owner say where he was moving to?"

"We never met the owner. Just a property management company. I don't even know the owner's name. Would you like to come in? You seem a little bit in shock. Maybe sit down, have a glass of water?"

Deanna gratefully accepted the offer and stepped through the door that used to belong to her. Well, she guessed it still did but it wasn't her home anymore.

"Honey, was there someone at the door?" came a bellow from somewhere in the house.

"It's the lady that used to live here," the pretty blonde shouted back, then said to Deanna. "My husband, Terry."

"The rumors true?" came another shout.

"I had more class than to ask, Terry," the woman shouted again. "Now hush." Then to Deanna again. "I'm sorry. That's why I don't take him in public much," she said with a smile on her face.

Deanna tried to smile. "Rumors?"

"It was neighborhood gossip when we first moved in. I don't really get involved in that, especially since I was new, but I heard it nonetheless."

"I'm almost afraid to ask but what were the rumors?"

"Let's go get that glass of water. I'm Sabrina, by the way."

"Deanna. Deanna Fields."

They made their way into the kitchen and sat at a small table there, after Sabrina had gotten them each a glass of water from the dispenser mounted in the refrigerator. It was odd to Deanna to see her house with different furniture. She realized she was relieved that Paul hadn't rented it out furnished, and wondered what had happened to her furniture.

"So, the rumors?" Deanna asked again.

"What I heard was that you and your husband had split up, and you had moved out because your husband was still living here for a while. The exact reason changed depending on who you spoke to. You were cheating and left to be with the new guy. He was cheating and kicked you out. A couple people were even saying you had left him to pursue a career in Hollywood. It's certainly none of my business so don't feel like you have to tell me, but that last one makes the most sense since you're back and expected him to be here."

Deanna tried to explain without giving any specific details.

"I had an opportunity, I guess you would say, in Hollywood so I moved there for 6 months to pursue it. My daughter lives there as well so it was an opportunity to spend some time with her, too. Paul wasn't supportive of my decision but I went anyway. We spoke and texted a couple of times a week while I was gone and he never said anything about moving."

"I don't know what else to say except I'm sorry. What will you do now?"

"I guess I'll have to figure that out. Money won't be an issue so I guess I'll just get a hotel room for tonight and start tomorrow. You don't, by any chance, have the information for the property management company handy, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I pay the rent directly to them and they gave me several business cards. Probably hoped I'd send some business their way."

Sabrina grabbed a card out of their home office and handled it to Deanna. 'Heckman and Associates, Professional Property Management Services' it read across the top.

"Thank you, both for the card and your kindness," Deanna said, and hugged Sabrina back when one was offered.

"Good luck," said Sabrina as she closed the door to Deanna's retreating back.

[::::::::::}

Deanna tried contacting the property management company but had no luck, other than being informed that her furniture was in storage and getting the pertinent information. They had only a phone number and email address for Paul, and she already had those. The odd thing was that Paul never failed to answer her while she was gone. They spoke on the phone occasionally and he always answered her texts.

However, looking back, he never called or texted her first; it was only in response to hers. And none of the conversations or messages were loving or affectionate. She had assumed that Paul was just dealing with her being gone, and what she was doing, so she didn't push it. Now, well, now...

She pressed the speed dial for Paul's phone.

"Hello Deanna."

"Hi Paul. Where are you?"

"Where are you, Deanna?"

"Right now, I'm sitting in my car. I was just in our house, which apparently isn't our house anymore. At least not to live in."

"Ah, yes, Terry and Sabrina. Eric tells me they're lovely people."

"Eric?"

"Eric Heckman. He's my...our property manager."

"Oh, right. Sabrina gave me his card. I didn't catch his first name. You never answered my question, Paul. Where are you?"

"If I wanted you to know that, Deanna, I would have told you already."

"But Paul..."

"But nothing, Deanna. You made your choice and these are the consequences. I'll be in touch...eventually."

The call ended and Deanna tossed the phone into her passenger seat. Her share of the money that Paul had given her before she left, combined with the money she made in California, left her okay financially. She decided to just check into a hotel for tonight, and tomorrow the search for her husband would begin.

[::::::::::}

Locating Paul had been far more difficult than expected.

Her understanding was that everyone left a trail. Well, except those people that lived 'off the grid' in caves, paying cash for everything and maybe having an anonymous cell phone account. But people had jobs, people bought houses or rented apartments, people led their lives and there was a way to find them. Paul, well, Paul hadn't.

She hired a private investigator to find him. The name 'Paul Fields' wasn't exactly common but it wasn't rare either, so there were several goose chases that took up valuable time. The only trail that led nowhere was a mailbox in one of those strip mall mail places in Nashville. Since it led nowhere it was the only lead that couldn't be eliminated.

Deanna staked out that store for a couple of weeks. She parked just outside and could see the box through the window. No one ever came to the box.

She took note of the employees, and there was one that looked more...approachable than the others. She wore a low-cut blouse on a day she knew he would be working alone, if his past schedule was any indication. For $50 he was willing to tell her that the box she was interested had a permanent forward order attached; that is, all the mail was gathered each week and shipped to a different address. But no, for $50 he couldn't tell her where, not even what state.

"What would give you enough incentive to tell me where that mail gets forwarded?" Deanna asked, though she suspected she knew the answer by the way the young man spoke to her chest rather than her face.

That negotiation led to her picking up Dennis, for that was his name, after work that day and driving them to a secluded spot in a nearby park. They didn't get out of the car, didn't need to. Deanna removed her top, and wasn't wearing a bra. She gave young Dennis 10 minutes to look at and fondle her breasts, and actually enjoyed the pleasure he derived from it. She then made quick work of the hand job she had promised him. Her recent venture to California had finely-honed this particular skill, and he was so turned on by the breast play that she doubted it would have taken long anyway.

With those things completed, he handed her a piece of paper with the forwarding information on it. Of course, doing more than that would have been easy as well, again considering her recent experience. But that was what he asked for and that was what he got. She even played a little hard-to-get, pretending he was asking a lot so that he would feel like he had played hardball. It was kind of cute.

But the information did not turn out to be the goldmine she had hoped. It was another mail location mailbox, this time in Durham, North Carolina. And so, she drove to Durham.

Getting the new information was both easier and harder. Again, she staked out the box but there was no activity. There were no young males on staff at this location, but there was an older guy, nearing 60, that seemed lonely and who Deanna thought would be the best target.

He began by quoting something about confidentiality, and made to escort her out of the store. Once outside, where it turned out there were no cameras, he let Deanna know that he might be willing to provide the information in exchange for certain considerations. She was dressed provocatively, as she had been in Nashville, and assumed he would make a similar request as Dennis.

But rather than a boob squeeze and a hand job, this guy, named Lyle, wanted more than that. He was willing to give her a choice of what she would do, from a list of 2 options: blow job or fuck.

Now, Deanna had no real issue with doing either, at least doing the act itself. But she had concerns about his hygiene so didn't relish putting her face down there. She agreed to let him fuck her, but insisted it be doggy-style (so she didn't have to see his face) and that he use a condom. He happily agreed to both conditions, and he even paid for the Motel 6 room they rented. She refused to go to his apartment and he wanted to be comfortable.

With that unpleasant task out of the way, he also handed over a piece of paper. This carried a street address and Deanna had finally struck pay dirt. He had even provided the Texas driver's license that had been used as photo identification when the box was rented. There was her Paul.

[::::::::::}

Deanna saw Paul's Cadillac parked near the townhouse address she had been given. It had taken nearly 5 months but she finally had him. She did wonder why her PI hadn't found this address but would think about that later. She had found her husband and it was time for action.

She approached the door with purpose. It was a nice set of townhomes, a collection of luxury cars filling the parking lot. She rapped on the door and, without waiting to see Paul's face yelled out as soon as the door started to open.

"Surprise! Oh..."

Deanna had a small speech prepared but it caught in her throat at the sight of the lovely brunette woman that opened the door. She wore a plain, sleeveless t-shirt and some cut-off denim shorts. Her breasts were large, quite a bit larger than Deanna's, and the sway told Deanna there was not a bra in evidence.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"I...um...I'm looking for Paul Fields," Deanna answered, aware of the striking similarity between this encounter and the one back in Texas with Sabrina.

"You've got the right place, though he isn't here right now. And you are?"

"I'm, um, Deanna. I'm..."

"Oh, the wife. Come on in."

Deanna stepped hesitantly over the threshold and into the well-appointed living room of the townhouse that was now apparently where Paul lived, and apparently with this younger, incredibly sexy woman.

"I'm Christina. And if it makes you feel any better, I was completely surprised."

This made Deanna laugh, and despite the awkwardness of the situation found herself almost completely at ease.

"And, what is your relationship to Paul?"

"It seems weird saying this to you, you being his wife and all, but I'm his girlfriend. Would you like something to drink?"

They ended up with glasses of iced tea and settled on the couch. After a brief awkward silence, Deanna made the first foray into conversation.

"What do you do, Christina?"

"I, uh, teach."

"How wonderful! I've always admired teachers. What level do you teach? Elementary?"

"Actually, I'm a professor of engineering at the university," Christina answered, almost shyly. And then, in response to the look of obvious surprise on Deanna's face. "I know, mind of a genius, body of a stripper. I've heard it before."

Christina had learned long ago to downplay her intelligence, a lesson imparted by her dear departed, but rather behind the times, mother. Since meeting Paul, he had been encouraging her to stand up for herself and be proud of what she had accomplished, but it was a work in progress.

"No, no, you just caught me by surprise. A professor of engineering? That's impressive."

"Thank you, but I really don't mind. I partly put myself through engineering school while working at a strip club...oops, I mean dance hall," Christina laughed. "What about you? I mean, I know what you did for those 6 months, but how about since then."

"I was volunteering at the school library before I left but I just couldn't go back to that. I've spent the last few months looking for Paul. I really don't know what I'm going to do now."

Christina just nodded as there wasn't much to say to that.

"I'm going to call Paul, see how long he's going to be."

Deanna observed Christina as she called her husband, hearing only one side of the conversation.

"Hey baby. How much longer you think?"

"Okay. Stop and grab 3 of the cheeseburger specials from Red Barn Burgers on your way home."

"Because we have a guest."

"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Why, that's blackmail!"

"Fine, but it would have been more fun if you'd waited until you got home. Your wife has stopped by for a visit."

"Yes, Deanna, unless you have another wife you haven't told me about."

"No, I haven't. That would be awkward and weird."

"I will not. Your wife is right in front of me."

"No, I won't say it."

"No, no, no."

"I told you no. Now hurry up. We're hungry."

"What did he want you to say?" Deanna asked as Christina disconnected the call.

"He always tries to get me to do phone sex with him. Normally I don't mind, I really like it in fact, but not with you here."