Suspicion

The next morning Kathy and I woke at about 6:00 A.M. She looked over at me, her head still on her pillow, smiling.

"Time for some more loving, darling?" she said.

"Love to, but we've got soccer games starting at 8:30," I replied.

"Oh, damn, I forgot. Shower?" came her next question.

"That sounds great, but not too long, we've got to make breakfast too, before we leave," I answered, with just that gentle reminder that I had been there for the children since she'd been gone.

The shower together was wonderful, almost like the 'good old days', i.e. before Karl, and while we didn't have time for sex, there was a certain amount of sex play, as Kathy soaped and washed my cock, and I cleaned her pussy, tits and ass. Love getting my hands on that body. Plenty of kissing and touching though, and I remembered again how much I'd missed having her here with me.

Getting the kids up, feeding them and making sure they had everything they needed for their soccer games took up the time until we had to leave. Kathy's car was out in front of the house, but we all crawled into the minivan to go to their games. This was another control issue from my perspective: he who controls the minivan controls the agenda. This Saturday, I controlled our movements.

We had been there at the soccer fields for about an hour, watching the kids play, Kathy saying 'hi' to people who she hadn't seen since we split. Again, like the night before, she was finding some way to be touching me, holding my hand, my arm, or her arm around my waist, almost the entire time. At about 9:30, her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller I.D., and then at me. I nodded my head, and she moved off about fifteen or twenty feet, and spoke for a couple of minutes before returning to my side.

"Paul," she started, "I know this is family time, but could I leave for 30 or 40 minutes. I have to explain the situation about the schedule..."

I nodded.

"I understand you need to go this time. Go ahead and talk to Karl, but understand that this can't happen again. We decided on the schedule, and we will keep our times completely separate." I explained.

"OK, hon, I agree completely," she replied, "I'm going to the Starbuck's in the mall, and I should be back real soon.

I gave her the keys to the minivan, a kiss on the check, and a little swat to her rear as she turned to walk away. She did one of those little jumps, turned her head back at me and laughed and smiled. I think that she was happy that I was doing things that a husband does with his wife in public to stake his claim.

At the edge of the field, she turned again before getting in the car, and waved. I waved back.

At the Starbuck's

"That's just the way its got to be, Karl. You know that I love you, but I love Paul too, and I need to keep my marriage intact. So we'll have to live with the schedule." Kathy explained to the clearly unhappy Karl.

"Come on, Kathy. It's just a lot of time for 'them' and not much time for 'us'!" Karl complained.

"Karl, you're not married and don't have kids, so you don't understand. Our time together is just you and me, one-on-one, doing things that we want to together. The 'them' is two children and a husband, and for that matter, other family members. And 'their' time includes all of the family responsibilities — doing homework, taking the kids to soccer practice, lessons, doing laundry, ironing, shopping. It isn't like I'm spending with all the time with Paul. I think that you're getting a fair share of the time. Maybe more than a fair share — I doubt that Paul will have nearly as much of my attention during a month as you will," came Kathy's reply.

It didn't occur to her that she was basically repeating the arguments that Paul had made to her the night before.

"I guess I'll have to live with it," came Karl's grudging acquiescence, "But I'm kind of pissed that you're letting your husband shove this schedule thing down our throats!"

"Karl! He didn't shove ANYTHING down ANYONE'S throat. He and I sat there last night and worked it out together, as a compromise. I actually picked and set the days myself. I'm sorry, I tried to be as fair as I could to you, but my family needs me too!" came Kathy's somewhat heated response.

"OK, OK, I get it; this is the way its going to be. I just hope that you can make it without our great sex for the entire weekend!" Karl said, with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"Karl, our relationship has never been just about sex, especially considering..." Kathy let out without thinking.

She blushed slightly, remembering the REALLY great sex that she'd had with her husband the afternoon before.

"Especially considering what?" came a rather aggressive question from Karl.

"Oh.. especially considering that with the fixed schedule, we aren't running around behind Paul's back, and I don't have to worry about explaining why I'm not home; I should be able to relax and have an even better time when we are together," Kathy got her words out, covering well for the disconcerting fact that she was sitting conversing with her lover, but suddenly hot for her husband.

"Anyway," she continued, "I've got to get back. I'll see you Wednesday night, after work. That will give you time to think about what we want to do for the evening."

Karl grinned at her, as they pulled their chairs back and stood up.

"I already know what I want to do, baby!" he said, stepping around with his arms out grab her to give her a kiss. He was surprised, when Kathy stepped back and put an arm out, her hand up, to stop him.

"Karl, I also promised Paul that I would be discrete. This mall is too close to home for that, sorry, lover." Kathy whispered in a low voice, inaudible from even a few steps away.

Then Kathy stepped closer, and gave Karl a 'friendly' peck on the cheek. Karl stood there astonished.

"Wednesday evening, Karl." as she turned and walked away.

"What was that all about. Shit." was a pissed Karl's last word, after Kathy was too far away to hear.

Kathy, on the other hand, was actually happy to have what she knew would be a difficult discussion, over.

As she opened the door to the minivan, she stopped when a thought suddenly struck her. Her period would likely start on Monday, and go through Friday.

"Oh well, Karl. You aren't getting any this week anyway, I guess." she thought. A slightly malicious smile crossed her face.

Back at the Soccer Fields

I looked up and saw the irritated look on Kathy's face as she approached the field. But when she looked up and saw me, a smile returned as her face relaxed.

"Ooooh," I thought, "looks like perhaps the lovers have had their first little spat. All because of me. What a shame!"

I actually chuckled out loud.

One of the other parents looked at me, rather bewildered.

"What was so damn funny about that, Paul. The penalty is on us!" he said, glowering.

"Oh, sorry, Bob," I apologized, "Just saw my wife almost trip over that hose over there, even after I warned her about it this morning."

"Oh, Oh, OK. Thought you were going crazy, for a second!" Bob replied, this time with a grin.

"No, my friend," as I reached over and patted Bob's shoulder, "I've never been more sane."

About then, Kathy had walked up behind us, and she slipped her arms around my waist, stood up on her toes and kissed the back of my neck. I turned my head enough to kiss her mouth, and then Kathy moved up next to me, her arm still around my waist. I put my arm around her shoulders.

"Everything go OK?" I inquired, in a neutral tone.

"Just fine," Kathy said in that tone that meant things did not go well, and she didn't want to talk about it.

As the games were wrapping up, Kathy stroked her hand up and down my arm , one of her methods to get my attention.

"Honey," she whispered, "Could we stop by my apartment on the way home. I need to get a few things to make it through the weekend."

"Sure, no problem. Give me a minute here." I answered. I left and walked over and briefly spoke to one of the team mother's, handed over a $20 to her, and then returned.

"OK, we can go." I told Kathy.

"What about the kids? Are we going to wait for them?" Kathy asked, curious.

"I talked to Jill, she's the 'team mother.' The teams were going to go out for a pizza lunch anyway, and she'll make sure they get home afterwards. So we can just stop by your place and pick up whatever you need," I filled her in.

"Pizza for lunch? We had pizza for dinner last night." marveled Kathy.

"Our children's idea of a balanced diet. Pizza for every meal." I shrugged my shoulders.

Kathy laughed and hugged me as we walked towards the car.

Her apartment seemed sad. Bland units, in bland buildings, with faded pastel colored stucco. Everything that I hated about apartments when we lived in one, back at the beginning of our marriage.

Inside, Kathy's place was better than I expected, but that reflected her. Her taste, her warmth, her style. The only pictures on the mantle in the room were of the family — of the kids, of all of us together, and even an old portrait of me. One or two of her sister's family. There weren't any pictures of Karl, at least not yet.

Kathy showed me around her little place. A small combination kitchen/dinette, a small living room, a single bedroom, with a queen sized bed, and a small bathroom.

She had obviously picked up most of the furniture second-hand — although it was remarkably nice quality — and it had all of those little decorator touches that she could bring to make even an apartment a home.

She joked with me about the bed never having been 'baptized', and then asked me when the kids would arrive home. She wanted to get some clothes and a few of her bathroom necessities.

"Oh, there's no hurry. Those lunches last awhile, probably two hours or so. Take your time." I assured her.

"Wow — two hours without children again. In the middle of the afternoon," she said looking at me.

"True. Did you have something special in mind?" I asked her with a big grin on MY face.

"Well, big boy, would you like ta mess around?" she replied, putting her hand up and patting the back of her hair, doing her Mae West impression.

"I suppose I could be talked into it, my little chickadee," giving back W.C. Fields.

"Give me a second, then. You might even get undressed," giving me a hint that was completely unnecessary. Then she turned and headed into the bathroom, and closed the door.

I quickly grabbed the small digital camera out my pocket that I'd brought into the apartment with me, and set the it up on one of the dressers. I set it to start taking pictures in five minutes, and every minute afterwards. I just LOVE the new technologies, so small, yet the damn thing could take hundreds of pictures. Then I was ripping off my clothes, and strategically placing them over the camera, to hide it from sight, while leaving the field clear for the lens.

The Plan was advancing.

I was standing in my estranged wife's bedroom, naked, and not really sure about what to do next.

Before five minutes was up, the door to the bathroom opened, and there stood my wife in a Fredrick's of Hollywood type outfit — black, lacy, transparent, and with openings for her nipples and a slit for pussy access. Damn, she was hot!

Then I thought about it, my heart stopped, and I took a second look at her. My face must have given me away. She could practically read my thoughts.

"Brand new, just for you, honey. I was going to wear this for you the first time we made love again, but you surprised me yesterday," she gently told me.

I recovered, and I think that I must have leered at her.

"Me Tarzan, you Jane!" I teased, "Come close so Tarzan can touch. Make that: so Tarzan can GRAB."

Kathy walked over to me, and we began kissing. Despite being pretty drained yesterday, certain parts of my anatomy seemed ready to resume making up with my wife.

I leaned over and began sucking on her nipples, my hands reaching down between her thighs, my fingers gently caressing and massaging her. Until she suddenly reached out and pushed me into a sitting position on the bed.

"Listen, husband, you did all of the work yesterday, and WOW, it was WONDERFUL. So today, I'm going to repay the favor, at least a little." she informed me with a giggle, as she kneeled and lowered her head into my lap, engulfing what romance writers have called the ' turgid member', in her mouth.

It was one of the great sacrifices of my life when I reached down and pulled Kathy off without coming in her mouth, which she seemed to want. But The Plan called for other things.

Being a bit nasty, I basically ripped off her sexy 'fuck me' outfit, making sure that it wouldn't be used again, making sure it would never be on display for Karl.

Then I pushed her down on the bed, and like the day before, began to use my mouth and tongue and hands on her. This time, though, when she reached that big combined clitoris/'G'spot orgasm, I pulled myself over her in a simple missionary position, I slid my penis into her very warm, wet and receptive vagina. I began sliding in and out, with a special attention towards making sure that the edge of my glans stroked her 'G' spot as I came out.

Kathy was in a state of almost continuous orgasm again, with her arms holding me, her legs up over my back, and kissing me at the same time. Again, as the day before, when I reached my climax, it seemed to put her over the top again, although this time she didn't faint. Hey, nobody hits a home run every day.

We just stayed there, holding each other for a couple of minutes. I finally told her that I had to get up and pee, so we arose from her now 'properly baptized' bed. I went first, peed, and washed myself with a warm wash cloth. After I was finished, she peed as well, and then jumped into the shower. We needed to get going.

As I dressed, I retrieved the camera — now with 40 photos of Kathy and me having sex. It occurred to me that if Kathy had meant for us to have 'make-up' sex this weekend to help me accept the fact that she had cuckolded me, that I had pulled something of a judo move on her; using your opponent's motion to throw them. She wanted sex to assuage her guilt about Karl; I was using sex to sow confusion in her mind, as well as the seeds of destruction for her affair.

And I had my set of pictures of us screwing in her apartment. The Plan rules.

The rest of the weekend was just a pretty normal weekend, at least it would have been normal if the specter of Karl wasn't hovering in the background. Shopping, washing, mowing the lawn, all of the things that a family has to do.

The one exception was something that I couldn't have bought for any money.

It was Sunday morning, and for the first time since Kathy and I had split, our family was sitting in the pew together at church. I hadn't told anyone there about the split, and no one asked, so everyone was pleased to see Kathy again, and we were just vague about why she hadn't been with us for, as we diminished the time frame of her absence down to 'a couple of weeks.'

The Pastor's sermon that morning was on, of all things, fidelity! Ouch, was that a tender subject.

Of course, he was talking about fidelity to our beliefs and to God, and not in particular to human relationships. But he couldn't really discuss the subject without raising the issue of marriage and divorce. He spoke of the high divorce rates in our country, effecting almost 50% of marriages, and that, unfortunately, a lack of marital fidelity was so often the cause, or at least a contributing factor.

He explained that he had counseled numerous couples, where one of the partners thought that 'the grass was greener on the other side of the fence', as the old saying goes, and it often resulted in the break up their family. He also said that most often, this pursuit of self-satisfaction turned out to be a chimera, an infantile illusion, and a destructive fantasy.

I could feel Kathy looking at me — more like sneaking a peek now and then — as he was speaking. I didn't look back at her AT ALL! I just listened, and nodded, and kept my face completely neutral.

As we left the church, The Pastor seemed truly glad to see Kathy. He shook her hand and gave her one of his big smiles, and told her it was delightful she could make service that morning. Sincere, wonderful man, the Pastor.

I don't think that she saw me write that $1000 check that I put into the offering plate when they passed it after the sermon.

Back in the car Kathy did look at me — I won't say quite with knives in her eyes, but a little skeptical.

"I never said a thing or told a soul," I cheerfully told her, "It was sheer coincidence."

She seemed to accept that, and the rest of the weekend went smoothly enough.