Love Is Where You Find It 3

Disclaimers: You readers know the drill. All lucky people taking part in sexy stuff are over 18. Some are WAY over 18. Each and every character in my little story is fictional. This entire story is FICTIONAL!! If I happen to mention a legal situation, all you lawyers out there don't have a fit, I'm not quoting from legal texts! The first part of this little tale belongs in a shitty husband category, that should be here.

I'm Betty Chambers, a thirty-four year old, married woman. This just happens to be my second marriage, and its to my best friend for the past four years. Oh, did I forget to add a few details? She is nearly six years older than I am.

After the absolute worst marriage in history, it took my wife more than a few months to convince me we belonged together.

I think here is where I share a few details.

I was born and raised in Lacey, Washington, just up the road from Olympia, our state capital.

The entire time I spent in school, from the first grade until I graduated North Thurston High School, I had a shape that reminded people of Popeye's girlfriend, Olive Oyl. Yes, flat as a board. It didn't help that I was only 5'3", or so. I must have been a junior in high school, when I finally started wearing a bra. If you could call it a bra.

With my assets being in the minus column, I wasn't exactly on the most dated list in school. It seemed to me that the most popular girls in school had the biggest boobs.

My mother, Charlotte, kept me from any deeper depression than I was already in. She kept telling me that my brains and great smile were worth more than big tits, any day. My dad, Vernon, helped too. He was always supportive of me.

This alone kept me from hiding in my room, my entire high school years.

Yes, I had a date, or two, but I got tired of hearing the boys talk in the halls, about my lack of 'putting out' I thought if the only way to become popular, was to become a slut, I'd rather be by myself in my room. Besides, there were already enough sluts in our school. And most of them had big boobs.

After graduation, I was accepted at one of the two campuses of Tacoma Community College. I knew I wanted to study some sort of computer programing, and TCC had a great program.

While attending my classes, I actually had a few dates, and once or twice there was a second date. I do have to admit, that I did do a bit more than just kiss, allowing this one young man to put his hand on my now A cup breast.

When he got me to take off my blouse, and seeing my boobs, he didn't laugh, or joke around, he leaned over and took one of my very excited nipples in his mouth. My God, but that felt great. When I put my hand on the bump in his pants, no bulge, just a small bump, he came in about ten seconds.

Even in the dark of his parents basement, his embarrassed face lit up the room. I couldn't help but just to hold him, without saying a word.

After disappearing into the bathroom, he finally returned, dressed in sweat pants, he quietly took me home. I guess the embarrassment was too much for him, as he never again asked me out.

I did have a few other dates, a lot more productive, than 'Quickdraw McGraw'

Starting my second year, a very nice young man, Jim Conover, and I dated for a few weeks. Yes, we would kiss, and yes, I let him take the shirt I was wearing off. I did get his cock out of his briefs, and after a good five minutes of manual attention, he did cum, but into a towel he had handy.

On our next date, he had his hand moving up under my skirt, and when he got to my panties, I just froze. First off, his hands felt like they had been in a freezer. Major turnoff! Second, he was none too gentle, so when I asked him to be a bit more gentle, he seemed offended, and our date ended. I never heard from him, again, either.

Just when I thought I'd remain a virgin my entire life, I met a guy, a few years older than me. Bud Harris. No, Bud wasn't his given name, it was Clarence, which he despised, hence, Bud.

He was a security systems salesman, four years older than me, and as opposite in build as possible. 6'3" and about 210, he just was a hunk, in my eyes. It must have been our third date when he asked if I would come back to his apartment.

Of course, in my mind, I'm thinking, why me? But I agreed, and after a nice dinner, we went back to his very nice townhouse.

As gentle as can be, he took me in his arms, and kissed me like I had never been kissed before. My toes literally curled. When my clothes started falling on the floor, I just couldn't resist. Being carried into his bedroom, again, I didn't resist.

Laying my nude body on his bed, his clothes came off. I then whispered "I've never done this before", he just smiled, as his kisses went from my ever so excited nipples, down my tummy to my already wet sex. When his masterful tongue his my clit, I thought I'd been electrocuted. My body shook for a few minutes.

Seeing his very erect manhood, I thought it had to be at least two feet long. Really, it was just over seven inches. But this was the first male organ I'd ever seen, this close.

He reached for a condom and placed it where it needed to be. He very gently moved between my quivering thighs, and eased his organ into my waiting cunt.

Holding my breath, he eased past my barrier, with just a slight pinch, then continued on his quest, while lightly biting my very engorged nipples. He moved up to kiss my lips while rubbing each nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

My body was on fire, and at least three orgasms hit me, one after another. Just as I thought this couldn't get any better, he stopped pumping in and out, and literally exploded inside of my sopping wet sex. Thank God for extra strength condoms.

Still holding me tightly against his body, he just kept whispering in my ear how fantastic I was.

I just couldn't believe how lucky I was, to find such a kind, gentle man, who cared for me, just being me. That he was so very good looking was a huge plus.

Just laying next to each other, I couldn't stop smiling.

"You look very happy, Betty Boop."

"You should know, because you're the cause, Buddy Boy"

"Betty, do you think we just might do this again?"

I was unable to answer because I was taught it wasn't polite to talk with your mouth full. And my mouth was filling up with his wonderful cock. I couldn't believe how brave, or brazen I was having this man's cock in my mouth on our third date. Was I that desperate? Or that lucky to find this kind, gentle and very sexy man?

As his cock grew, I felt his fingers start to explore where his cock just was. Two fingers, at first, just about felt like his cock. Speaking of his cock, it seemed to be growing even bigger. Thicker, for sure, as my body shook with another fantastic orgasm. Just as I thought this couldn't get better, his thumb started rubbing my throbbing clit. Another orgasm, as his cock touched my tonsils. Or at least it felt that deep.

All of a sudden, his manhood started tensing up, his hand stopped deep in my cunt, and he started shooting stream after stream of cum deep into my throat. So much, I had to grab the towel next to me to spit the bulk of his load, for fear of choking. I kept milking his shaft, watching the rest of his offering start to slow down.

My body must have remained shaking for another few minutes as he wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me tightly up against his body.

"Are you positive this was your first time, you sexy lady?"

I was still so hyped up, I could only nod. And smile.

I just thought this was the ultimate experience in the bedroom. For the next several months, Bud proved that to be an understatement. Each time we were in his bedroom, the lovemaking got better and better.

One thing I did to make our time together even better, was to get on a very reliable birth control pill. Goodbye condoms.

After four or five months, and me taking him to meet my parents, we did start talking about us moving in together.

The first time he mentioned it, I told him I only had a few weeks left to finish my schooling and that I already had a job offer, with the nation's largest tree growing company, which just happened to be the largest private land owner in the country.

I also hinted that this arrangement might need to come with a ring. If not immediately, within a reasonable amount of time.

He admitted that was already on his mind, and after meeting my parents, made it more like something he wanted to do.

"Betty, I need to tell you that your relationship with your parents is something I've never had. I never knew my dad, as he disappeared right after he found out my mother was pregnant. And my mom. Oh, shit, how can I say this. She did what she thought she had to, to support us."

Taking a breath, I could see what appeared to be anger building up in his eyes.

"Take your time, Bud, and if you don't want to continue, I'll understand."

"For more years than I care to remember, she traded her body for rent. For food. For everyday necessities."

By this time, his body was shaking, so I just held him close to my body, and kissed his forehead, a few times. After a few minutes, he took my face in both hands and told me he was very serious about us getting married.

I just couldn't ask him if his mother was still alive. He must have read my mind, and whispered that she died just after his 18th birthday, almost eight years ago.

Right after me starting my job a bit north of Tacoma, in the fast growing city of Federal Way, I did move into his townhouse, and within six months, he asked if we could start thinking about a family.

Reverting to my rather conservative upbringing, I did say yes, but not without a ring. Not two minutes after saying that, he reached into his pocket and produced a small box.

"Betty Ann Chambers, would you marry me?"

My tears of joy barely allowed me to answer, in the affirmative.

Wow! We had a wedding to plan. And I had to pack up my meager belongings, and get a head start on married life.

Just over four months later, we were married in a community center just down the street from where I grew up.

Growing up, I always heard music by the only group from Olympia who were chart toppers in the 50's and 60's. The Fleetwoods. My dad always told me about them, and the male singer, Gary Troxel. He always said that Gary was just the nicest, most down to earth pop star in the world.

As our wedding ceremony was ending, and our dinner was starting, just over the normal conversation, we all hear.

"I want, want you to know, I love, I love you so......."

The opening refrain from "Come Softly To Me", The Fleetwood's first number one smash hit. In walks Gary Troxel, finishes singing his song, and walks up to my dad and gives him a big hug.

"Vern, I remember when your baby was born, and now she's married? How does that happen, when we're not a day older?"

I had completely forgot that my dad and Mr. Troxel worked together for a short time, a long while ago.

Settling down, our reception went along better than I could have imagined.

With my husband's job doing very well, and mine could be done remotely, we decided to start trying for a family.

We didn't lack for effort, because we were fucking each and every chance we had. Morning, noon and nighttime, too.

Finally, after nearly four months, and a second missed period, I ran to my doctor, as fast as I could.

With Bud right by my side, we learned our first daughter would be joining us in just under seven months.

We were on top of cloud nine, listening to all the necessary information that we both needed to learn. I did have to remind my overly exuberant husband to realize we couldn't keep our unbridled bedroom antics during this pregnancy.

He was so excited about becoming a father, he'd agree to anything. He also promised me to be a perfect gentleman, both in and out of the bedroom.

True to his word, he became even more attentive, and loving, being ever so careful while still keeping our love lives at the highest possible degree.

We made love a little slower, but still keeping both of us more than fulfilled. Each night we would discuss possible names. After more than a few more discussions, we decided to write our number one name, so we both did.

After nearly an hour, we showed each other our choice. Boy, were we shocked! Each of us wrote than name that our daughter would have in about six months. Cassady Harris. Unbelievable, we hadn't even come close suggesting names, yet we both came up with this unusual name.

All we had to do was wait.

The next six months literally flew by with me being wheeled into a delivery room, with my overly enthused husband.

Taking just over two hours of serious labor, Cassady Ann Harris made her debut. Eight pounds even, and twenty inches long. With a head full of light brown hair and brown eyes, just like mine.

Just holding her in my arms meant the world to both of us. With my parents waiting right outside the delivery room, I felt sorry for my hubby, not having family to share this treasure with.

It took us no time at all to get into a very nice routine. For anyone wondering, my boobs actually grew enough so Cassady wouldn't starve.

With Bud's business flourishing, and me doing a bit of contract work, for my employer, from home, we decided we needed our first house, together.

It took us no time at all, to find an older home, bigger that we thought was needed, but it checked all of our boxes. The right neighborhood, the right price, and we were more than ready to move in.

Within another two or three months, we decided Cassady needed a sibling.

Condoms tossed out. Fucking in high gear. Very few interruptions, so we were off to the races.

Just as our daughter was turning eight months of age, we found out she was getting a little sister. Bud and I were ecstatic. Neither of us were upset at a second girl, so we set out to find another girl's name.

It just so happened, that my mother's maiden name was Kelly, and that's what we decided on.

This pregnancy was nearly as easy as my first, and Bud remained my tender, attentive husband. He even didn't attend the yearly Consumer Electric Show in Las Vegas, held each February to show off the industry's newest products.

Right by my side, during a nearly three hour labor, watching our precious Kelly come into the world, he was beaming, the ultimate proud daddy.

It didn't take too long for our routine to get established. Bud, off to set the electronics world on fire, and me, doing a bit more from home each day.

As our girls were approaching school age, I began noticing small changes. Alcohol on his breath, from 'lunch' meetings. This, along with cigarette odors on his clothes, when neither of us smoked at all, and rarely drank.

His afternoon meetings became later and later, stretching to evening meetings. His explanation always the same. He had to keep up with the competition, if we wanted to keep our nice lifestyle.

The other thing that had me concerned was his difficulty sleeping. I'd wake up all hours of the night, to find him sitting in our living room, telling me he was concerned about some upcoming conference or meeting.

I also have to admit that our sex life started to decline. I did admit to myself, that at twenty-eight, and the two girls, my body wasn't as appealing as when we got married, but I was still in fairly good shape.

Yes, there were stretch marks, and my boobs showed what breastfeeding can do to even small B cups. They sort of resembled droopy pears.

When Cassady started first grade, and Kelly started kindergarten, I sat him down and asked if he was having an affair.

"Absolutely not," he swore.

"Are you going to Vegas for your Electronics Show?" I asked almost wishing he wasn't.

"Yes, as I've already heard about some really exciting things to be previewed."

Off he went for what I thought was the two or three day event.

The morning of what I thought should have been the last day, he texted me, saying he was staying over another day, or two, finalizing this 'special' deal. This, he said, could really bring us a windfall.

When I finished reading his message, I smelled something rotten, but replied that I hoped he knew what he was doing.

The evening of the fifth day, and my calls and texts weren't being answered, I really started to worry. I called his hotel, only to find he had left two days previous.

Right after the girls and I had our dinner, I see on our front door security camera, two really unsavory looking men walking up to the door.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Open the fucking door, Mrs. Harris, we're here to collect what your asshole husband owes us!" one of them yelled.

I immediately called 9-11, and told these two, to give me a few minutes.

Just as they started pounding on the door, yelling they were going to, 'fuck me up one side and down the other' I heard the wonderful sound of two police cars stopping on the street, and voices yelling at these two to get on the ground and not to move!

Telling my girls to sit across the room, two very large policeman came into my front room to ask some questions.

"Before we start, can either of you tell me where my husband is?"

"For right now, Mrs. Harris, we'll tell you he's safe." This coming from a black cop large enough to go bear hunting with a twig.

For the next half hour, or so, this cop, Detective Jordan, recounted the results of their two month investigation. My husband, it turns out, had 'business' dealings with these two thugs, and none of it had anything to do with electronics.

The crux of our discussion had to do with the fact that the idiot I'd been married to for over seven years was now doing cocaine.

It also turned out that these two goons were his dealers, who he just might have forgotten to pay!

"If you can tell me, is my husband still alive?"

"Yes, ma'am, but barely. He has several large stab wounds, and he's lost a lot of blood."

"Let me get my neighbors to watch my girls, and I'll follow you to the hospital."

"Let me drive you, and we'll get you safely back home."

Off we went, with this giant, black cop telling me a bit about this investigation. It seems that Bud met these guys after one of his trips to Vegas, the previous year, and his first foray into the trap of the deadly white powder.

Getting to the secured area of our level one trauma center, I saw him and collapsed into the arms of this giant detective. Bud was covered in so many bandages, he resembled a mummy. And this didn't take into account all the tubes and wires in his body.

After composing myself, I quietly asked if the handcuffs were necessary. I was told that it was procedure. I was then told by the medical staff that was in a medically induced coma. One of his eight or nine stab wounds punctured his liver, and another one punctured a lung.

I just sat as close as possible, holding one hand, not saying a word.

After about ten more minutes, I asked if I could be taken home.

On the ride back home, Detective Jordan told me that Bud had given the police some very valuable information, implying that was the reason for this viscous attack.

Getting back home, I tried tell our six and five year olds as basic information as I could. Both of them were old enough to know that daddy was mixed up with some nasty men.

No shit! I thought.

Just about twelve days later, Clarence 'Bud' Harris stopped breathing. His body just couldn't overcome his very serious injuries.

Over the next few weeks, I must have been interrogated for hours, on end, being asked over and over about what I knew about his 'friends'

After telling these people from the Prosecutor's office for the umpteenth time I didn't know shit, I finally lost it.

"Don't you cocksuckers understand English!" I shouted. "I never saw those two before they tried getting into my house!"