Paula said she forgave him but her behavior told him otherwise. Over the next few weeks a cold war settled on the house. She was polite but not friendly, affectionate but not loving. The warmth and companionship he had come to expect from her, that he relied on, was gone and in its place the ache of loss.
His waking hours were miserable. It affected his work, his relationships with their children. Mostly he was sad but sometimes he was mad. Damn right it's hypocritical, he fumed, considering the way she slept around before they were married. He took her back too, didn't he? Well, eventually he did. There were long years spent apart while he seethed with resentment toward her, when he thought of her at all. Still, he made just one mistake and she seemed willing to destroy him over it or to drive him away. Is that what she wanted? Is that what he wanted? Finally he got up his nerve and asked her directly. What could he do to make things right?
"I've already moved past it," she lied to his face. "If you are still hung up then I suggest you figure something out. No need to invite me to your pity party."
Kent had to fight back the angry words that rose to his lips. He stalked away in a cloud of bees and cooped himself up in the utility room he used as a study. For a long time he aimlessly flipped through papers and projects and examined his collections. Then he looked up and noticed his father's old copy of "The Virginian" and pulled it down.
He opened it to a random page and began to read. It was his father's favorite book and so, for a while, it was his favorite too. The title character of the story embodied what it was to be a man and, as a child, Kent longed to live up to that ideal. He wished Dad was still around to hear his troubles, to give him advice. But he already knew what the old man would say. He made a promise. He broke the promise. Deflecting his guilt on her is not what a man should do. This wouldn't be easy to fix. But he had to try.
So that Saturday morning he rose quietly at dawn and prepared a special breakfast. She was already sitting up when he brought it to her on a tray.
"What's this for?" She asked, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while. Maybe she was feeling guilty about their earlier conversation.
"You're going to need your strength this weekend, love. I'm taking you to the King Corral."
"Oh, honey. I know we've been wanting to go there. But we have so much to do this weekend."
"No we don't. Grandma's coming to watch the kids and she can deal with the contractors too. So you and me, riding into the sunset, let's do this."
"We just... I just can't."
"That is why I am going to beg." Kent went down on one knee by the bed and took her hand. "My dear, will you make me the happiest man in the world, again, by going with me to Oklahoma's premier agritourism destination?"
Paula could not refuse his plea so she packed their suitcases while Kent got the kids dressed and fed. She insisted on driving her car which was too bad, since that meant there would be a console between them. As they made their way, he couldn't help but admire her profile. They'd known each other half their lives and she still took his breath away.
"I can't imagine my life without you in it," he said, before he could catch himself.
Her smile outshined the morning sun. "I feel the same about you, hon."
He decided not to press his luck and focused instead on the ribbon of red clay that rolled out before them and the impossibly blue sky that hung overhead.
As Kent expected, it is hard to be in a bad mood while riding horseback through the green country of eastern Oklahoma. Or while soothing sore muscles in the resort's big whirlpool spa. Or while dining on ribeye so tender you could cut it with a fork. Or while sipping whisky sour and being serenaded by singing cowboys. He kept his arm around her shoulders while they drank and chatted with the other guests. She kept her arm across his lower back, her hand on his hip.
As the entertainment wound down they clasped hands and looked in each other's eyes. They shared one thought and, without a word, went to put thought into action. The tension between them was indescribable as they walked arm in arm to their room. Once behind the closed door, Paula reached up under her dress and pulled down her panties. She held them up and rubbed them all over his face. He relished her scent and the feel of the warm, wet fabric on his skin. She folded the undergarment and tucked it into his shirt pocket.
She went to the restroom while he undressed. When she returned she pulled the chair away from the vanity. He took a seat on the stiff leather and she stepped over his knees to straddle him. In a single motion she impaled herself on his spike, sliding down the length of him until her soft cheeks touched his thighs. She wiggled side to side to get a little more of him inside her. Her sweet pussy, still tight after ten years and two kids, enveloped him like warm honey. He had to steel himself to not give up the game right then. She sat there and rested, giving them both a moment to compose themselves.
She lifted her face to his and kissed him, her tongue pushing past his lips to explore his mouth. He unzipped her red velvet dress and lifted it over her head. His hands were free to explore her shoulders and back while she ran hers through his black mane of hair. She kissed and licked and bit his neck, a little too hard but he didn't stop her. He brought his hands down to her ass and squeezed her cheeks, pulling them apart and feeling his cock slip just a little deeper into her puss. She groaned and rested her head on his shoulder. Oh, he was going to fuck his slut of a wife tonight.
She was still wearing her bra so he pushed her back just far enough to squeeze her breasts together. The front clasp came loose and the cups fell away, revealing her juicy tits. Paula began rocking slowly in his lap as she pushed her chest up for him to sample. He circled one of her nipples with his tongue before taking it in his mouth. He suckled softly at it and pulled away, letting it pop out of his mouth with a smacking sound. He did this several times before switching breasts, giving her other nipple the same treatment. Then he kissed all over her chest, her shoulders and neck, her chin, her cheek, her forehead, her nose, her sweet lips.
One hand caressed her hair while she rocked and bounced on his cock. The other stroked her back and hips, dipping down to cup her soft smooth glutes. As he wandered into the cleft between her cheeks he thought he noticed a slickness there, near her tiny pink rosebud. Was it from perspiration? He rubbed his thumb and middle finger together and felt a distinct lack of friction. There was some sort of lotion there. Much as he wanted to explore further, he resolved to steer clear of her back forty. If she had anything planned for it he didn't want to spoil the surprise.
