Ann: a Love Story

© 2025, All rights reserved -- mimaster

Dear readers

In January of '25, I made the bold decision to clean up and edit both

Ann: A Love Story

and Ann: The Married Years

, as well as

Besty - Reawakened

. While writing a new Betsy chapter, I'd gone back to do some research in a chapter of Ann, and I was disappointed in what I read. Too many typos, incorrect syntax and a huge story thread error made me realize I needed to take the time to clean up and add to the story to make it make more sense to me. Being a stickler for details, which is why I was reading back to begin with, made it feel necessary. While I know I didn't catch everything because using an actual editor has proven difficult (to be fair, I did use several, and the amazing

Anna Nova

, wherever she might be these days, was a huge influence at one point), I do think the final version will be much improved. I can live with what will be posted.

Know that the newest edited chapter once approved and posted will have

© 2025, All rights reserved -- mimaster

at the heading. It will take some time to get all of the edited chapters up. After all, there's currently the 98 of this first Ann series, 57 of the second Ann, and 16 of Betsy to send in. And that's not including the 10 more of Ann and 14 of Betsy written ahead. I hope to have the whole lot of the edited works posted by mid summer, but that's time dependent. Still, the hard part is over. Once I get this first one past the review process to see how it goes, I'll have a better feel of what it will take. Anyway, the process starts today. Updates on progress will be on my profile page.

Happy reading.

Mimaster

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The alarm clock was going off way too early, and I struggled to find the snooze button. By the time I found it, it was too late; I was awake.

I hated most mornings, and this one was no different. I'm not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. But the internal struggle to get out of bed that morning seemed much more difficult. For starters, it was a Monday, and nobody likes those. Throw in going to work when you're physically exhausted, and it was a recipe for a disastrous start of the week. Life had been a drag for a long time, and the thought of having to go to work made me want to pull the covers over my head. I was sore from a weekend full of physically pushing myself, and sleep was so much more inviting.

But the main reason I was depressed about having to get out of bed was that the infernal buzzing of the alarm had rudely interrupted my slumber just as I was about to stick my hard cock into a tight bare pussy. I had been enjoying a wonderfully erotic dream that involved Dawn, a girl I had spent some quality intimate time with over the weekend. My erection was a testimony to it. This wasn't just your normal morning stiffy. My cock was throbbing, and it hurt. Now the dream had vanished, and all I was left with was my hand and my hardon.

But, I didn't have time to do anything about it, which meant yet another colder than normal shower to start my day. It was something I had gotten far too used to over the last year or so. It had not been my best fifteen months; not even close.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Divorce can wreak havoc on your life in a lot of ways, especially in cases where you're on the wrong end of infidelity. No longer having a readily available sexual outlet, other than my hand, was one of them. Sure, that problem was a number quite a ways down on that list; somewhere well below making sure I ate, and remembering to breathe. It didn't seem all that important that I did any of those things in the beginning.

But as time passed, it started rising up the chart like a hit record. It was currently firmly entrenched, occupying the number one slot on that list. And there didn't seem to be a threat of anything on the immediate horizon that would knock it out of that top spot.

The ebbs and flows of emotional recovery as a divorcee crash like waves onto your fragile soul. Rip tides always seem to be prevalent in the calmest of waters, ready to snatch you back to the murky depths of despair. Just when you think you're about to get out of the water and walk on the beach in the sun, you get pulled away by the undertow, and find yourself struggling just to keep your head above the water.

The cold water of the shower did its job, hitting me like a swift kick in the balls. I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair quickly and turned it off, along with my libido, both spiraling down the drain. I had gone from the warm embrace of a girl in a wet dream cut short, to the cold stark reality that was now my life. I was twenty-eight years old, single because of events not by my own doing, and standing naked and freezing in what had been my parents' guest bathroom, until I was forced to move back home. I had moved out of my house when my ex and I decided it was in both of our interests to move on, after she decided that she couldn't keep her hands off other men.

She had asked for a divorce, and I wasn't going to fight it a second time. I stupidly was able to forgive her the first time she had an affair. I looked in the mirror and said to myself that it takes two to make a marriage work, and admit I was part of the problem. I had tried to change things that she insisted had caused friction, and made an effort to be more understanding. She had used the

'your actions drove me into the arms of another man'

defense, and having been raised that divorce was never the first option, I bought it.

When you say to people,

'the first time'

followed by the word

'affair'

, they all pretty much know what's coming next. There was no inward reflection when I discovered the second one. There was only anger. I had spent a year changing myself to please her. She spent a better part of that year on her back with her legs spread for another man. Likely men, if I cared to go down that particular rabbit hole. I decided to cut my losses, no matter the cost. Being twenty-seven at that time, I had a lot of life left to go, and I had no intention of spending another minute with someone that didn't want to be with me, and seemed to be on a mission to make me look like a fool. The only saving grace in getting divorced was that we didn't have any kids together.

The ex got the house. I got the better, albeit uglier, car. We split the rest of our stuff amicably. Since she had a habit of spending beyond our means, there was no money to speak of; just possessions. When I moved into my old bedroom, I literally had one hundred seventeen dollars to my name. I had to borrow five hundred from my old man just to open a bank account to make the payment on a car I hated that was due the next week, because it would be another until I got paid. I spent the first month after the split holed up in my parent's house. I hadn't made enough money to do anything.

For their part, my parents were great about it. They were supportive, but tried not to meddle. If I wanted to talk, I knew they'd be there. But they left me alone, and I needed that space. It was weird enough to be living at home again, but I didn't need mothering, that's for sure.

They didn't allow me to pay rent or utilities. They wanted me to start saving so I could find a place of my own. This wasn't something they had asked for, and looking back on how I was when I first moved back, it couldn't have been easy for them either. It's hard enough to see your son in emotional pain on a daily basis. But it was also hard on them to adjust to having another person back in the house after six years.

I did buy groceries for myself. I insisted on that. I told them I felt like a freeloader, and I needed to offer something financially, if for no other reason than my sense of self worth. They respected that, and let me do it. It gave me something to do, and made me get out every once in a while.

The funny thing was when I moved back in, I was all worried about being at home as an adult, and having my parents crimping my style. I think that was the term I used for someone at work. I had habits I had formed while being away; sleeping nude being among them. I had tried to change things about myself in a futile attempt to save my marriage, and the thought of continuing a lie, and to not be me, made me cringe.

As it turned out, I crimped my parents' style a lot more than they did mine. They were always on the go, and seemed to be away from home more than they were there. I remembered one Friday night when they didn't come home until almost two in the morning. I was worried sick, and actually stayed up waiting on them. I gave them a look like,

'where have you been and why didn't you call'

when they walked through the door.

My mom giggled and said, "Sorry. We didn't know how late it was. We won't break curfew again."

Dad just smiled and said, "Please don't ground us."

Then they went off to bed together hand in hand, and I knew what they would be doing. That's the night sex started moving up that priority list. My parents were each about to get laid. And since I'd acted like a nut, they decided to be rather loud about it. It was their way of reminding me I was living with them and not the other way around.

Meanwhile, I was dating my right fist.

Things started looking up a little once the divorce was final. I didn't contest it when she filed. In fact,

I made

her file. She was the one that fucked around on me. She could be the one who had to do all the work. I asked a lawyer friend of mine named Ed to handle the legal paperwork. He would represent her. I didn't have a lawyer; I didn't even go to court. He went with her, and they went before the judge. He called me later that day and I went in and signed the paperwork. It was done after the six months of waiting, and it only cost me three hundred in legal fees.

The day it was final, I bought a new sports car, trading in the family truckster styled sedan I took when I was bartering with the ex. She couldn't afford a house payment and a car payment. I got the car I didn't want, knowing I would treat myself when it was all over with. I had been looking around, and had everything ready to go. I went straight from Ed's office to the Nissan dealership in Fort Wayne. Both transactions took less than an hour.

Driving that red 300ZX back to my parents was the biggest step in healing. I couldn't believe how much better I felt. Then the rip tide grabbed me two days later. I hadn't counted on my insurance jumping so high. And it wasn't the sports car I bought that did it, or that I'd chosen red as the color; it was the fact that I was suddenly back in the

'male, single and under 30'

category that bit me. Never had a ticket, never had an accident, never had a claim; but in the insurance company's eyes, I was at a higher risk because I was suddenly single. Talk about getting fucked.

That put my plans of moving out of my parents' house on hold a little longer. But at least I was getting my self-esteem back. I felt like I was back in the game. And that alone was a scary thought. Dating was a daunting task, particularly in the place where I lived.

Rural northern Indiana isn't exactly New York, or LA. Try living in a town of five thousand people, where everyone knows your business. Then try going through a divorce there. That's what I was up against. If you want to have fun, or to get away, you would have to drive forty minutes to Fort Wayne. That was your only option for pretty much any kind of entertainment.

Unless you happen to get lucky, and a friend invites you to spend the weekend in Ann Arbor.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

As I was walking down the hall I heard my mom in the kitchen; a woman that is such a morning person, she practically sings herself awake. Since she hadn't seen me for the entire weekend, she tried to stop me on my way out the door.

"Good morning Neil! How was your weekend?"

"It was fine, Mom. I had a good time."

"You got in really late, didn't you?"

"Yeah it was late. I hope I didn't wake you guys up."

"No, you didn't. So did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. I'll have to tell you about it later. I'm running late."

I headed out the door, relieved that I didn't have to talk about it then. I wanted to savor some of it, and think about how I wanted to edit the details. For the first time that I could remember in a long time, I suddenly looked forward to going to work. It would give me a chance to think about how to spin things if I needed to.

I worked at a manufacturing plant, managing a small offshoot company within the main facility. It was a small department that I was hoping to grow. My six direct reports were mostly production employees, except for my assistant, who split his time between the floor and administrative work. I ran the department, including all sales.

One of my newer, and bigger customers, was located in Ann Arbor. My contact there was Mark Chase, a great guy who had been through a similar experience like the one I was currently mired in. We had gotten to be pretty good friends over the phone in the previous six months. We had a lot in common, including a love of sports. It was that common bond that gave me a lifeline for the weekend.

Mark invited me to up to play with his company team in a coed softball tournament. They were going to be a little shorthanded, and he knew that I played. It was a Friday, Saturday, Sunday thing, and I decided I really wanted to go.

I explained to my boss that it would be a great way to get deeper entrenched into the fabric of their company. I'd get to meet more people besides just Mark, which would be invaluable to our efforts to grow sales. The more people who know you within a top customer, the more they will likely want to use you. I also told him that by going up early on Friday, I'd get a plant tour, and would be able to help figure out ways we could service them better. My boss agreed, and I got to go without burning a vacation day. I would be getting paid to go up on Friday.

The other big reason I was thrilled to be going was to escape the town. My ten-year high school reunion was going to happen the same weekend, and I had no intention of going. The thought of being

divorced guy

was bad enough. To have to deal with people who knew me, knew my ex, and knew what she did; the thought of that was unbearable. Worse would be people that didn't know, and would ask me where she was. And that would happen whether I went to the reunion or not. In a town that small, I would undoubtedly run into someone from my class who came home for it. The trip had turned out to be a godsend in a lot of ways. As I drove to work, I recounted my weekend. It was everything I needed, and then some.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

I got to Mark's plant, and did the tour thing, followed by a couple of meetings that would prove beneficial. I would be able to tell my boss with a straight face that it was worth it to my company for having gone, just for the first three hours I was there.

After the work part of my day, Mark had me follow him to his place. He lived in an amazing doublewide trailer, in a very tasteful modular home park. It looked more like a regular sub division. He was single, having gone through his divorce three years before. But, he had a live-in girlfriend, named Jill Tate. She was waiting for us when we walked into his place to get me settled in.

Jill was a stunning blonde with a body that fit the hair color, and my mouth would have normally hit the floor just looking at her. It didn't for a couple reasons. One, she was Mark's girl, and he was my host, so buddy protocol told me to be cool. The other was the tanned brunette sitting on his couch.

After Mark had introduced me to Jill, Jill took my hand and led me over to this goddess in cut off denim short shorts and a tight white T-shirt

"Neil Thomas, this is Dawn Spade. Dawn, this is the guy from Indiana we were telling you about. He's going to be playing with us this weekend."

Now I have to tell you, my mind raced when she said that. I had totally forgotten that I was playing softball, and that it was coed to boot. Dawn saw the look on my face and knew I had totally misread what Jill meant.

She slowly stood on her long athletic legs; her massive double D chest suddenly coming closer into view. I almost pulled a groin from my cock leaping, not to mention a neck muscle when I snapped my head up to make sure I was making eye contact instead of staring directly at her breasts.

She held out her hand and said, "What position, Neil?"

I took her hand to shake it, and said, "Excuse me?"

"What position, you know? Where do you play?"

I smiled, connecting the dots. Softball. She meant softball. What position in softball!

I could have left it at that, but the devilish sparkle in her eyes led me to believe that the thought that had originally crossed my mind might just be right. My flirting radar had been decommissioned for the six years I was with the ex. It was odd that someone that fucked around on me was so jealous of my talking to other women while we were married. Or maybe that's the way it is if you intend to fuck any dick you can convince to come out to play. She put me on the defensive by feigning jealousy, so I wouldn't see what she was doing behind my back. As a result, I was out of practice when it came to the playful banter I'd used to enjoy when I was talking with a gorgeous woman.

When I tried to reconnect that flirting radar, I wasn't sure if it was even working right. I had been with a couple of women sexually in the previous few months. There was one in particular that came quickly to mind. We'd been using each other for sex occasionally for about six months, so I had gotten back in the game to an extent. But as for dating, I had done most of the chasing, and I got shut down pretty much before I started most of the time because I was out of practice. My confidence was shot.

My first reaction to the look on Dawn's face was fear. I didn't want to be wrong. What if the wires on that radar really had become crossed when I hooked it back up, and I was totally miss-reading her? Saying the wrong thing could make the entire weekend a total disaster.

At that moment I thought about Mark. He had to have talked to them about me. Jill had said as much in how she introduced me. And my conversations with him had been very frank, and very graphic. I had used him as a sounding board. He knew everything I went through, and was going through. That was one of the reasons he asked me to come up... to get me out of my funk. And from the way Mark was on the phone I was sure Jill knew everything too. Putting two and two together... well, girlfriends talk. A lot. So maybe if Dawn and Jill were close, then Dawn knew everything as well.

Somewhere, deep in my chest, I felt a swell of pride. I was a good-looking guy. At just over six feet, I had worked hard to stay in shape by playing a lot of sports, and still weighed the same one hundred ninety pounds that I had in high school. However, my shoulders had broadened since then. My chest was much more defined. I was actually proud of my six-pack. And my legs and ass had always been my best features. Honestly I had a much better overall build than ten years before. If not for the personal disaster that was my sunken marriage, I would have come off looking fantastic at the reunion.

Staring into her deep bluish gray eyes, all that logic flashed through my sex-starved brain in milliseconds as Dawn returned my gaze. Thankfully, I hadn't blushed when I realized what she meant. Instead, I cocked an eyebrow and decided to get off the deck from all the blows I had taken emotionally in the last fifteen months. Right then and there I decided to come out fighting to get my old life back. I brought Dawn's hand up to my mouth and kissed its soft, delicate back. Returning my focus to her eyes, I felt a burst of adrenaline fueled courage, and decided to throw myself out there and take a chance.