My wife left me, not that it was unexpected. We had been cordial to one another, but our sex live was nil. What with our conflicting schedules, we saw little of one another. She would go to the gym three nights a week and often came home with a just-fucked glow. One night, I decided I'd check and see if she actually did go to the gym, or if she was perhaps engaged in other extracurricular activities. I knew a balcony overlooked the workout area and I could not be easily seen if she were to look. Of course, when I went to the gym, she wasn't there. I did this several times. About one time out of three she'd be there; the other nights, who knew where she was?
The thought of her with another man aroused me so much that one night when she came home with "that look," I just had to fuck her. I wouldn't take no for an answer this time. She said she had to shower first, that she was all sweaty from the gym. "Yeah, right," I thought. The man she'd been with had to be huge! I literally had to bang one side of her stretched pussy at a time to get any feeling. When I went down on her, I noticed the shower hadn't removed all of the cum. I had it all over my beard. It was shortly after this night that she left me.
I was in torture for weeks. One day at work I was confiding my feelings to a friend. She said her mother, Marcia, had recently gone through the same experience. Her husband had left her for a younger woman. She said her mother had always wanted to ride on a Harleyβthe one toy my wife left me in the divorce. So we made arrangements to get together the next Saturday. Our HOG Chapter was sponsoring a charity poker run for the local shelter. I invited her to go along. All day, her face literally glowed with excitement. She mentioned that she loved to go to Chicago, and had always wanted to go to a blues club. We decided to extend our day into the evening. Luckily, I had a change of clothes on the bike.