Rachael Pt. 04byJimBob44©
*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual acts are at least eighteen years of age.
I hated to say it, but those that were supposed to be helping her had screwed my ex-wife royally. Worse than that, I hated to be witness to it.
We'd gone to her minister, looking for marriage counseling. The jackass he'd sent us to was just shy of totally incompetent. In fact, two different clients for malpractice were suing him.
The divorce lawyer the minister had gotten for her was actually a bankruptcy lawyer and ours was only the fourth divorce she'd ever handled in her career. She didn't even want to know how to file for child visitation or custody. She'd actually told Tara not to bother with going to court; she'd handle everything.
Tara hadn't asked for visitation or custody, assuming that the judge would just rule in my favor, as I was older than her. Her lawyer should have told her differently, and a more competent lawyer would have.
The financial planner the minister had recommended was filing for personal bankruptcy, but was wisely using a different lawyer. I was so grateful I'd not relinquished the accounts to him when he barged into my office and shrilly demanded that I hand them over.
I told him I'd received no communication from either Sara Mitchell or Tara Taylor authorizing me to release them and had no court documents identifying him as their new guardian. Until I received communication from Sara and Tara, or from the courts, he could go jump in the lake.
The renovations that they'd started had stretched into the several thousands of dollars and were nowhere near completion; again, incompetent people the good Reverend Bonham had recommended.
How much easier my life would have been had she simply used that brain of hers, rather than letting others tell her what to do. I would be able to wash my hands of her and her even more shrill, even more annoying twin sister.
But I could not in good conscience turn my back on my ex-wife or her sister. Even if she had not been my ex-wife, she had been my deceased wife's best friend.
"Get out," I very firmly told the contractor. "Your work here is finished.
Sara would not look at me; she glared with undisguised hostility when I knocked at the door, but let me in. Tara softly held onto my arm and quietly discussed what they had requested of the contractor and what a disaster it had all been.
"How'd you even know?" Sara bitterly spat at me. I think if she thought she could get away with it, she would have physically spat at me.
"I pay your bills," I reminded her. When a simple back patio and deck went from thirty five hundred to seventeen thousand, I decided I better take a look."
The contractor that had built my back deck and patio came out, took some notes did a few sketches and Tara decided on the plan for the house. Sara would not even look at the sketches.
"And you're sure you can do all of this for seven thousand?" she asked for the fiftieth time.
"Ma'am, it's right here in black and white," he smiled. "If it costs seven thousand and five dollars, guess who pays the five dollars? Me."
"Thank you so much, Jim," Tara said as I prepared to leave.
"Tara, believe it or not, I do love you," I said. "All I ever want is what's best for you and for Sara."
"Don't worry about me!" Sara shrilly screamed from the front porch.
Tara and I shared a smile at how immature her twin sister was being.
Even if our son hadn't been planned, he was the light of my life, as was my daughter, Rachael Nicole.
Rachael Marie, my wife had been a best friend with Sara and Tara Mitchell. The two bone thin red heads and my wife had run around our house, cavorted in our back yard, swam in our pool.
The twins' father, Jim Mitchell, came to me a few weeks after Rachael Marie Taylor, age twenty one, had been laid to rest, victim to ovarian cancer. Over ham and Swiss sandwiches, he revealed that he had an inoperable brain tumor and asked if I would 'keep an eye on the twins for him,' even though they were both twenty, nearly twenty-one years old. Because they had been my wife's friends and she had loved them with all of her heart, I agreed.
Four months after his death, Tara and I had made love and produced jams Robert Taylor Junior.
I did the right thing and married her, even though I did not love her. I did not find her very attractive; she was five foot eight and weighed ninety-three pounds. Pregnancy did put a few pounds on her, but that was quickly lost as soon as Jimmy was born. Her pasty white skin was blotched and splotched with innumerable freckles, her carrot orange hair hung limply down to her nonexistent ass.
I often had to imagine I was with another woman, instead of a shrill, whining, immature brat, in order to get it up. The few times I failed, I would laugh it off as 'just a sign of my age.' I was fifty when she and I married.
But it had been great to see her at our son's first birthday party. And Rachael Nicole, bless her loving heart, still thought that Tara was her mother. She'd only been seven months old when Rachael Marie died.
The two year old happily greeted 'Mommy' and prattle and babbled in her two-year-old way while Tara shed a few tears of happiness. She was wearing make-up, very tastefully done, and really looked great.
Jimmy sat in his high chair and a sullen Sara brightened slightly and played with him.
"Nice," I commented and lightly tugged the belly button ring Tara sported.
"Thanks," she giggled lightly. "Hurt like the dickens."
"You look good," I said as we moved to the back yard to make sure that all the party gear was ready to go.
(I'd laid the boards across the in ground pool and that was covered by a tarp. There was a movable barricade around the perimeter of the pool. If anyone were going to fall in, they'd really have to work at falling in.)
"Good enough to eat?" Tara asked and smiled playfully.
I had to watch it; I had to guard myself, or I would wind up caring for, desiring my ex-wife. Despite wanting to put up a wall, I smiled back.
I did remember the oral sex we'd both enjoyed. Her clitoris was thin, like all of her, and hung down like a punching bag. The first time I'd gone down on her, she'd locked those skinny legs around my head and damned near suffocated me. But I'd loved it, and she'd loved it. The few times I couldn't get it up, eating her pussy would suffice just fine for her.
"Good enough to eat," I agreed and lightly swatted her rear end, which looked good in her shorts.
Her thirty two B breasts were covered by a man's button up shirt that was simply knotted in front, leaving her pale belly bare, and showing off her belly button ring.
When we'd split up, Tara had slipped into a severe depression. The good Reverend Bonham had glibly suggested prayer but she turned to food instead. The feelings of failure were stuffed down along with a Boston cream pie. The feelings of inadequacy were swallowed, along with a couple of Big Macs. A few dozen doughnuts quickly covered any anger. On anyone else, the thirty pounds would have been disastrous, but on her, it looked great.
I'd invited all of the children from the Day Care Center that Rachael and Jimmy went to and had been assured by Miss Decker that the majority of them would be there.
"Never known them to pass up a free meal," she laughed. If Rachael's second birthday party was any indication, she was right.
The guests began to arrive and Sara and Rachael were greeting them and guiding them to the back yard. For that brief moment in time, Sara forgot that she hated me and was mad at me. She was smiling and laughing and having a good time.
Tara stayed in the back yard with me and helped with Jimmy and the food and graciously interacting with the other moms.
Other than myself, there were only two other men. Marc was the proud adoptive father of Kyle, and very obviously gay. Rupert was the father of Austin and I did not like him from the moment he and his girlfriend, Melanie, walked in.
The first thing Rupert did was asked where the beer was.
"Uh, it's a children's party," I reminded him. I also checked my watch; it wasn't even ten thirty yet.
The second thing that he did that I didn't like was make fun of Melanie. She was a short girl of about twenty-one or so, with short blond hair and a cute round face. Pretty much all of her was round. I would guess she was about five feet two and at least twenty-five pounds overweight.
Well, any mother will tell you, having a baby puts a few extra pounds on you, and taking it off ain't as easy as putting it on. She sure didn't need him reminding her that she'd put on a few pounds and certainly didn't need him doing it in front of total strangers.
The third thing he did was comment on my 'bitching bad ass' restored 1965 Ford Mustang. The only way he would have seen it is if he'd gone into my garage and he had no reason to be in my garage.
"Fucking fruit loop," he sneered at me.
"That's your opinion," I lightly said.
At my age, I really could care less what some punk ass twenty something thinks of me. Any posturing, any bravado, any machismo had long ago been replaced by a comfort and security in knowing who I am and what I am.
Marc helped me with the barbequing and I was glad for that. Rachael and Austin were obviously good friends and they ran around playing with each other. I relished being able to watch her laugh and shriek and be a little girl.
I felt a presence next to me and looked over at Melanie. She smiled as she watched Austin chasing after my daughter and I was struck at how cute her smile was.
"I really do not like him," Sara hissed into my left ear.
"Who?" I hissed back.
Obviously something had her pretty pissed off for her to forget that she wasn't talking to me.
"That guy, Reuben or whatever," she hissed. "Ass hole just tried to hit on me; with his wife here and everything."
"Girlfriend," Melanie corrected and shot an ugly look at Rupert.
"Oh, shit!" Sara squeaked, blushed a hundred shades of red and scampered off.
I observed Rupert trying, unsuccessfully, to hit on every woman there, even the ones that bore wedding rings. With a heavy lurch, I realized that Tara was wearing her wedding ring and the engagement ring that I'd given her.
Melanie was very gracious as she thanked me for inviting her and Austin to the party. I noticed, despite all of his muscle flexing, it was Melanie that held the sleeping boy.
"You are most welcome," I smiled and was rewarded with another one of her cute smiles. "Obviously, Austin and Rachael enjoy playing together; we ought to do a play date sometimes."
"Yeah, yeah, hey dude, trade you," Rupert cut in. "Fat ass here for that bitching ass fucking Mustang."
"You'd be getting the short end of that trade," I coldly said. Melanie glared daggers at him.
"Why? Mother fucker don't run?" he asked.
"Runs as sweet as it did the day it rolled off the assembly line," I smiled. I turned my attention back to Melanie. "Still be getting the bad end of that deal, Pleasure to meet you, 'Bye, Austin."
"You are such a charmer," Tara giggled lightly as I closed the door.
"What?" I smiled.
"You'd be getting the short end of that deal," she mocked my deep voice. "We ought to do a play date sometimes."
"Shut up," I smiled and slapped her on her cute rear end as I walked past her. "Hey, by the way, what's with the wedding ring?"
"Oh, um, well, when I gained all that weight, I couldn't get the rings off," she lied.
I saw Melanie a few days later as I dropped Rachael and Jimmy off at the Day Care Center. She smiled a winning smile and waved, as she got into a battered looking Oldsmobile. It sounded horrible as she started it, it died a few times, and then she gunned it and roared off.
That afternoon, I wasn't thinking of Melanie or her sexy body or her cute smile. I'd just run off a shoddy and most likely dishonest contractor and had a reputable contractor bid on the work to be done.
I handed my ex-wife the visitation papers and the business card of the lawyer I'd hired for her.
"What's this?" she asked.
"You're suing me," I smiled. "Suing me for joint custody of our son and visitation rights with Rachael, since she believes that you're her Mommy."
"You know, Rachael was right," Tara said and hugged me again. "You really are the most wonderful man in the world."
"No, I'm not," I said as I returned her hug. "Just trying to do what's right. But it's nice to hear you say that."
I saw Melanie exiting the Day Care Center the next morning and managed to have a few words with her and reiterate my desire for Rachael and Austin to get together and play.
"I'd be happy to drop Rachael off, or better yet, why not come on over and we'll swim?" I asked.
"Sure!" she happily agreed and we agreed on Saturday.
Rachael had inherited from her birth mother a real impatient streak; I had to threaten her with 'Time Out' if she didn't stop begging to get in the pool before Austin arrived. Finally, I saw the battered Oldsmobile pull up to the house and breathed a sigh of relief. Rupert wasn't with them.
"Still sleeping it off," Melanie laughed when I asked about Rupert.
I unobtrusively pulled my towel in front of my surging erection. She really had a cute smile and a sexy body, even if it was a few pounds overweight.
Rachael led the way to the back yard. I carried Jimmy, then tired of him struggling and put him down to totter and wobble his way to the pool.
"Wow, she really knows her stuff," Melanie said as Rachael jumped in and began to swim.
The life vest she wore really wasn't necessary, but I felt better if she had one on. Austin fussed about having one, but I firmly told him that it was the rules. Jimmy also fussed, but Jimmy was a fussy baby.
I didn't feel funny about shrugging out of my tee shirt and exposing my fifty one year old body; I swam regularly, watched my diet and kept active. I slipped into the cool water with Jimmy and he and I splashed around.
I was glad that the sunlight was blinding as it reflected off of the pool water. Melanie's swimsuit had most likely been purchased before she had Austin. Her breasts threatened to spill out or pop the top completely off and the bottom barely contained the two fleshy globes of her ass. It was obvious that she'd had to very conscientiously trim, or completely remove her pubic hair as the front was stretched to the breaking point over her mound and had very little material to cover her pussy from view. My erection was throbbing by the time she carefully slipped into the cool water.
"Oh! This is heaven!" she cooed and smiled. "I'll bet you and Tara spend a lot of time out here!"
"Used to," I shrugged and smiled back. "We're divorced."
"What? Really?" she asked, mouth open in surprise. "But, when? I mean, she was here at the birthday party, you two seemed like, really?"
"She's a wonderful woman," I said. "She and I are adults, we've agreed to be adults about the whole thing."
Rachael and Austin had worn themselves out and Jimmy was ready for a nap too. I carried my two squirming, fussy, cranky kids in and Melanie was right behind me with her squirming, fussy kid.
Jimmy was asleep before I finished changing his diaper and laid him in his crib. Austin and Rachael were put side by side in her bed and were soon asleep as well.
Melanie followed me downstairs. She and I chatted as I quickly lined up all the lunch items that I'd heat up as soon as they woke from their naps. I half wished she'd put her clothes back on, and was half happy that she still wore the ridiculously skimpy bathing suit.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, since it's obvious y'all still love each other, why'd you get a divorce?" she blurted out.
"Sometimes, love isn't enough," I smiled sadly.
I was a little surprised by Melanie's comment; I knew it was obvious that Tara was still in love with me, but didn't think I displayed any love of my own.
"I mean, she's still wearing her rings, that's why I thought y'all were still together," Melanie went on.
"Nope, divorced." I said sadly and sat down. "Oh, hey, would you like some coffee or something?"
"Coffee would be great," she agreed
She insisted on fixing her own cup and I knew, it would be just my luck, that Rachael or Jimmy would wake up at that precise moment. My erection was quite evident as I watched her plump ass jostle and jiggle as she very vigorously stirred sugar into her mug, then just as vigorously added the creamer. I jammed myself under the kitchen table as she turned and walked to the table, carrying her cup of coffee.
"Yeah, Rupert's always on me about putting sugar in my coffee, says I ought to use that sweet n' low crap," she was saying as I watched her breasts strain in her too snug top. "But he don't have to drink that crap, stuff tastes terrible."
"I'd put more than Sweet N' Low in his coffee," I muttered and she giggled at the implication.
Sure enough, I heard the plaintive wail of Jimmy waking up in a dark room and wanting his daddy. My erection was not just tenting my shorts; it was throbbing and drooling as I stared at Melanie's hard nipples.
She could blame the air conditioning for the obvious bumps in her swimsuit. I couldn't.
His crying grew in intensity and I had no choice but to get to my feet, walk around the table, and through the door, all with my erection right in Melanie's face.
And of course, as soon as my feet touched the bottom step, he ceased his crying.
"Was, um, was that, was that for me?" Melanie blushed and stammered, never making eye contact with me when I returned, erection finally tucked away.
"Was what for you?" I asked, matching her blush.
"That, um, that Mister Stiffy," she blushed even deeper.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," I said, averting my eyes. "I am so sorry, please don't be angry, it's just, well, hell, you're a very sexy young lady and..."
"I'm what?" she asked, disbelieving.
"You are a sexy young lady, dressed in a skimpy bathing suit, and I got an erection staring at you," I said, setting my jaw firmly.
There was a long moment of silence, and when I looked back up, Melanie was smiling her dazzling smile, still blushing, but smiling all the same.
Lunch was served, then Austin and Melanie left and I couldn't help but wonder what Rupert would think if he found out that I'd just finished making love to his girlfriend.
I'd insisted on using a condom for three reasons, even though Melanie complained lightly. One, I didn't trust Rupert and didn't want to pick up any diseases he might have given Melanie. Monogamy wasn't high on his list of priorities, as I'd observed at Jimmy's birthday party. Two, I didn't want any pregnancies; I was raising two children already and didn't want to add a third just yet. Melanie said she was on the pill, but nothing is 100 percent foolproof. And third, and Melanie had to agree with me, it's less messy.
I was so grateful for that condom; without it I would have sprayed Melanie with my load the moment her bikini bottom hit the kitchen floor. Her pussy was shaved bare, a look I've always found extremely sexy. But with a condom dulling the sensation; well, let's just say I managed to last a little bit longer than three strokes.
Tara and I smiled at h other as we met up on the courthouse steps. She really had a stunning smile; I wonder why I never noticed that before. Even Sara was coolly civil to me.
Yancy, my lawyer and personal friend, surprised me by slapping me playfully on the rump.
"Hey, hey, enough of that," he said. "Remember? She's the bad guy, the one who's suing you."
We had to laugh at that; I was the one paying for both lawyers and the civil proceedings.