I Saw Red

It had been a hell of a couple of weeks.

Back in October Karen and I had made reservations for a seven day escape to the Caribbean in mid February. Winters up our way can be brutal and having a warm weather escape plan makes enduring the months of sub freezing temperature and seemingly constant snowfall just a little easier.

Then one day in mid January the snowfall had been so severe to the east of us I had to turn back halfway through my drive to a client's office a couple hundred miles away. There was an SUV parked in our driveway, so I parked on the street then trudged my way to the side door. I was glumly focused on the fact that I probably had an hour's worth of snow shoveling to look forward and really didn't think too much about the vehicle. Karen has a large cadre of female friends and I assumed it was one of theirs.

As I let myself in I could hear the stereo on but quickly realized the music was not coming from the living room but from the second unit we had recently added to the master bedroom. We had hooked it up to a timer and in the morning we woke to soft music that gradually grew louder to rouse us from slumber. Karen had also added the sound of waves crashing on the beach to the repertoire as a prelude to our getaway plans.

The music that afternoon was anything but soothing. Speed metal blared from down the hall the and as I approached I was also greeted by a none too subtle odor of marijuana smoke. What the hell was she up to?

My heart raced and my stomach flip flopped as I reached the door. Karen was naked on her back on the bed, her knees pinned to her chest and her feet wrapped around the broad shoulders of strange man whose cock was buried balls deep in her quim. As he earnestly rammed away she squealed and whimpered in delight, peppered with a "Fuck yes!" and and "Oh god!". I'd never heard her use the F word in all the time we'd been together.

I stood there watching for several minutes before coming to my senses. They were so caught in the moment that neither noticed my presence in the doorway. Slipping my cellphone from my pocket I set it to camera, checking to make certain that no flash would come on and snapped a couple of quick shots. I don't for the life of me know how it was that I had the wherewithal to document the situation but I then even reset the phone and snagged a short video before I began to shake uncontrollably and an urge to vomit overwhelmed me.

I managed to make it back outside before I lost my lunch. It had started snowing lightly again. As I made my way back to my car my footprints started to fill in behind me. Slipping the key into the ignition I realized my world had just been turned upside down. As I pulled away my head began to spin and I felt like I was in free fall.

Fifteen minutes later I was staking out a stool at Murphy's. Jaki, the bartender took one look at me and knew immediately that something was amiss. A buxom blonde who always displayed a more than ample amount of cleavage she also possessed deep green eyes that bored right through you as well as made very clear that she had seen more than her fair share of shit in her life.

"You're white as a sheet - You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I actually wish it had been something like that instead of what I just witnessed."

I then proceeded to blurt out a description of what I'd stumbled upon, leaving out a few of the details such as the feet on shoulders and my puking in the snow. She looked at me somberly and barely nodded her head.

"The usual?" Jaki asked.

At that point I don't believe I could have kept down a single malt. I nodded a no and added "Let me start with just a coke."

Twenty minutes later my queasiness had subsided enough that when Jaki asked if I wanted another I replied "Yes, but throw some rum in it this time as well."

By the time I was halfway through that rum and cola my nerves had settled enough that my hand no longer shook as I lifted the glass. It was a slow afternoon and Jaki hovered over me like a mother hen. Her cleavage was a nice distraction and she was leaning over right in front of me far more than she would normally. My glass was immediately refilled once it was empty and I was told it was on the house.

"So what are you going to do now?"

I honestly had no clue what I would do. I was reeling from the shock of the experience, just dealing with the devastating impact of finding the woman I thought I knew so well getting the bejeezus fucked out of her by some stranger in my own bed.

"You need a plan. I know I did."

Jaki then proceeded to tell me about discovering her ex in bed with her sister one night. The next day she kicked him out of their apartment, tossing all his clothes and possessions out the second story window. There had been a lot of screaming and hollering and the cops had been called. He denied the entire incident but still had to leave. He continued to come around almost every day and raise a ruckus until she finally had a restraining order placed on him.

As I left the bar I started to formulate a plan. It was still only four o'clock which left some time for a few arrangements. That evening I checked into a hotel for the night and turned my cellphone off. I slept surprisingly well considering the turmoil of the day.

In the morning I was up early, grabbed breakfast at the Parkside and at eight o'clock was at my house. I knew that Karen would most likely be long gone as it was Friday and she was expected at work by seven thirty for a weekly progress meeting that involved all the staff at her agency. By eight thirty the movers I had contacted the previous afternoon had backed their van in the driveway. For a little over an hour they and I packed and carted boxes out and into the van. The last item to be removed was the stereo system from the bedroom. The bed was stripped and the mattress also put in the truck.

A locksmith appeared and the exterior doors were all re-keyed. I taped an envelope to the side door inside which was a key and a note that read simply "630 East Avenue, 26C" and "check your e-mail". The key was for the self-storage unit I had all her things hauled away to and attached to the e-mail I sent her was the brief video I'd shot the day before.

Jaki was right - it felt good to take action. I couldn't believe how easy it actually was to empty my life of everything physically connected with Karen. What shocked me however was that once I'd gone through that process I watched the video again and I found myself getting an erection. It was like watching amateur porn. Karen was just another slut getting drilled, but I could say to myself Ha! I tapped that! I tapped that hundreds of times!". I found myself wishing that the video was longer than the ten seconds or so that I'd recorded.

At the same time I was totally heartbroken as well as lonely. Karen had moved into my house five years earlier and after that time I'd rarely been on the premises but that she wasn't there. For her not to be around and to also know that she wouldn't be showing up again in an hour or two was tough. The first couple nights I slept in the guest bedroom before buying a new mattress for the master bedroom. I immersed myself in work, ate all my meals out, and stopped for an hour every night to visit Jaki at Murphy's. She doted on me and continued to divert my attention with the canyon between her creamy white breasts. One evening she was evidently wearing a bra with less padding as her headlights were also proudly on high beam.

Karen evidently got the message loud and clear. I could tell she tried calling my cellphone a couple times but stopped I guess after the second or third day. I started to think about asking someone new out for dinner but soon realized that I knew no one who was not already attached in some way shape or form. Depression started to settle in, coating my soul and affecting my every action. It felt good to have been decisive but it didn't alleviate the emptiness.

When at last the day rolled around for the scheduled trip it too was a combo platter of emotion. I was sincerely looking forward to getting away from the grey coldness of upstate New York in February but it would without someone with whom to wake naked in my bed in the morning, walk the beach with, or savor the warm sunny days.

The plane ride did little to alter my disposition. A young couple occupied the other two seats in my row and babbled almost the entire flight about how they were going to do this that and another thing while on the island. Their conversation was littered with the WE word - I don't think it was possible for either of them to speak in first person singular. It was also quite evident that they were totally smitten with one another, constantly smooching and giggling at little inside jokes. At one point they quieted down enough that I was able to catch a brief catnap. When I awoke I actually caught him copping a feel of one of her perky little breasts.

Once we deplaned things began to improve. The warmth, the sunshine, palm trees, and exotic foliage all did wonders to lift my disposition. It was hard to stay in a funk and easy to lighten up a little. A complimentary umbrella drink at the hotel bar didn't hurt either.

The complex was a sprawling series of smaller structures each with a dozen guest rooms that each opened onto a good sized private balcony that faced onto courtyards filled with lush gardens. A small waterfall gurgled in the one outside my balcony. A hundred feet or so away was the next balcony studded structure. At night there was a pleasant glow from ground lighting concealed in the landscaping as well as the rooms across the way.

For a moment while dining alone that evening i was painfully aware of how everyone else there was partnered up with a companion. Everyone was laughing, smiling and enjoying one another's company. I was quickly assuaged however once the meal arrived, a splendid concoction of l'angoustine and vegetables in a saffron laced creamy broth accompanied by an excellent Chardonnay per the suggestion of the waiter. His name was Pepin and I resolved immediately to leave the decisions regarding menu up to him for the rest of the visit.

That night I slept far better than I had in weeks. The temperature was perfect and I was free from the bad dreams that had haunted me since that fateful afternoon. I awoke with warm sunlight beaming in through the window.

After a shower and shave I again headed for the dining room where silky rich Guatemalan coffee was accompanied by a flaky buttery croissant. Guests drifted in and out of the room, all quite casually dressed, many wearing lightweight robes, a number of women in short kimono style wraps. Conversation was hushed and the overall atmosphere sleepy and peaceful.

I had resolved to learn how to golf. Lessons were available each day beginning at ten with clubs furnished by the resort. Never having taken a swing in my life, this would undoubtedly prove interesting. I had signed up for the beginners class.

At the appointed time, six of us introduced ourselves to the Phil the instructor. He made no bones about not being a pro, merely a college student taking a year off school to pay off some of his student loan before racking up further debt. Smart kid, I thought, and it turned out he was a natural at teaching, his attitude comfortable and encouraging. He took us through the basics and then began to help each of us tailor our swing and timing so that the ball would head in at least the general direction we wanted it to.

The other members of our group included three solo women, myself, and a couple.

Rita was probably in her late fifties and it turned out, a fairly recent widow. She was deeply tanned and wore big sunglasses, her jet black hair showed little wisps of grey. Fit and perky she did justice to the short white shorts and striped polo shirt she wore.

Young and bubbly, Mary possesed big bouncy breasts, sandy colored hair and a ruddy complexion. Her parrot green T shirt stretched tightly across her chest and hot pink bra straps peeked out at the neckline. Black shorts more conservative than Rita's, ended mid thigh.

Monica was a stunner. I'd guess in her early thirties, slender physique, about five six, shoulder length dark brown hair, high cheekbones, and a dazzling smile. She wore khaki color shorts and a black tank top that nicely displayed a moderately sized rack with just a touch of cleavage.

Then there was John and Caroline. He was probably six foot tall with curly salt and pepper hair, a hint of a stomach roll evident, he wore light khaki shorts and a white polo. She was a petite blond with her hair fastened up in a bun. Everything about her was just plain and simply gorgeous - perfect skin, perfect smile, perfectly manicured, perfect little ass in a pair of white shorts and smallish breasts filling out a scoop necked heathered grey T that was cropped just short enough to show off a firm flat abdomen.

Caroline and John carried on a casual banter between themselves indicating they'd been together for a long time. At the same time she seemed a little flirtatious, glancing at me from time to time as though looking for approval. Hell, I had no idea what I was doing either. She seemed to take any and every opportunity to stick that sweet little ass of hers up or out as she positioned herself club in hand. John was constantly egging her on and peppering things with salacious comments.

Monica was just about as bad. In her case it was more about leaning over so that I got a nice view of cleavage. She was hot and she knew it. Meanwhile, Mary was just a sweet thing, much more innocent and seemingly oblivious to the antics of the other women and Rita appeared to be above it all. She seemed disappointed that everyone else in the group was at least fifteen years younger. My guess is that she was on the prowl for a new husband.

By the end of the two hours we were all fairly well aquainted. Phil dismissed us, saying "See you all tomorrow at ten."

I was starving and lunch was a splendid buffet in the dining room. As we all arrived within minutes of one another, the golf lesson group queued up one after another and then shared a table except for Rita who spotted an older gentleman sitting alone on the other side of the room. He had himself a lunch companion whether he wanted one or not.

Conversation at our table rambled all over the board. John's quick wit kept us all in stitches. The women compared notes as to where they might shop later and I for the most part just soaked in the convivial atmosphere. Monica continued to distract me and several times I caught her gazing in my direction. At one point the image of Karen naked on her back, feet high aloft flashed through my mind but for only an instant. It was replaced by another of her trudging through snow and I actually shivered slightly before returning to the tropical lushness of the moment.

Following lunch I decided to check out the beach. Changing in my room I hoped I would not make a spectacle of myself by wearing a speedo. Ever since high school swim team I had favored the tiny nylon trunks over baggy jams which felt to me like a pair of pyjamas (which I also refrained from wearing). Karen had always been after me to "dress more up to date" while swimming or at the beach but I held my ground, continuing to wear my form hugging attire. I still had the body of a high school athlete and I was proud of it. Being a bit of an exhibitionist I also didn't mind that my package was fairly evident.

As fate would have it, I fit into the beach crowd just fine. There was a mix of North Americans and Europeans, so both jams and briefs were evident. The range of attire for women was even more diverse, older women in appropriately more conservative one piece suits, younger ones in bikinis or maillots with high cut legs, one athletic creature in a monokini with thong back, and several brave young souls who were topless.

I limited myself to an hour in the sun for the first day. As I was leaving I ran into Monica who, despite her already deep tan, had decided to exercise similar restraint. A two piece suit comprised of form hugging boyshorts and a matching bra top that clenched her breasts firmly graced her luscious curves. The bottom of her ass cheeks peeked out beneath the bottom of the shorts and her breasts formed two great orbs above the constructed cups of the top. The skimpy ensemble was peach in color, contasting nicely with her copper skin.

We walked back to our rooms together chatting casually. She headed down one wing and I the other but for the rest of the evening i couldn't get the image of her exquisite physique out of my mind. I wondered (hoped!) that she would have the gumption to go topless before the week was over.

The evening involved another wonderful dinner. Pepin brought me filet mignon, a tiny but rich mushroom casserole, asparagus, and a lovely Cabernet. I again had a flash of Karen but this time not in the throes of orgasm. This time I was reminded of the nasty weather she was likely enduring back home. I felt rather smug at first but then the empty chair across the table brought back the loneliness that now never seemed more than a moment away.

Pepin did a good job of keeping my wineglass full and also brought me a night cap of brandy to finish the evening with. When he told me I was more than welcome to take it to my room or with me if i wished to stroll, I decided to take him up on the suggestion. Outside I found a chaise to relax in on one of the patios. Couples drifted about arm in arm, many of the women dressed in gauzy ensembles that bordered on being lingerie. At one point I noticed John and Caroline along with another woman. There was hushed giggling going on between the two women and it seemed that John had had even more to drink than I that evening.

The next day was much the same as the first. Our group of golf students convened at ten as scheduled. It was amazing just how much progress we had all made in a single day, going from complete neophytes to actually being able to smack the ball with some degree of accuracy by the end of the second session.

Rita was in a very good mood, positively ebullient. One could only assume that her forwardness at lunch had born fruit. Poor Mary kept retreating to the shade every chance she could as her complexion was a bright pink, having not exercised enough restraint with regard to sun exposure the previous afternoon. John picked right where he had left off, joking incessantly and Caroline goaded him on. She also continued her flirtatious behavior, her shorts that day being parrot green knit that in addition to being even shorter than the previous day and displaying a smidge of the bottom of her firm little ass cheeks, were also taut enough on her that just the slightest trace of cameltoe could be discerned.

I chatted Monica up as much as I could without being too obvious. She responded by staying close and again working the charms of her cleavage on me. She had opted for a white cotton blouse that was tied in a knot halfway up her torso and most of the buttons undone. It was soon evident that she had no bra on which on one hand was disappointing because the cleavage was less pronounced but on the other hand afforded me a couple of fleeting glimpses of nipple. She was quite the tart and knew exactly how to work it.

At lunch we went our separate ways, John and Caroline disappearing together, Mary presumably off to nurse her sunburn, and Rita finding her gentleman friend again. Monica and I dined together and I was treated to another tantalizing glimpse of nipple, this time firm and erect. She had to know exactly what I was seeing.

I hoped to see her on the beach but she never appeared. I ate dinner alone again and despite Pepin's superb service the loneliness again crept in. I asked for a double brandy and strolled the beach in the moonlight for a few minutes until i realized that everyone else was part of a couple. I felt like an intruder. After polishing off the brandy back in my room I hit the sack early.