Consolation

Oh, dear reader, let me tell you that there most certainly are two sides (or more) to every story. Perhaps you really expected to hear more of Jim's side, how he saw it all end up, how he viewed it all, and how he dealt with the consequences.

But me, the bad and evil Mike; I was just to be reviled and lumped into the discard bin that contained all the rest of society's rejected male failures because of my part in Candi's infidelity? No way am I going to allow the story to be told so lopsided. No way will I allow you to hear such a one-sided, prejudiced assessment of the events that led to the present day.

Would that even be fair to Candi?

Many people will hear a situation described and interpret it through an overly objective ear. For example, I'm sure many of you would feel that Jim (Candi's husband) was a caring individual that agonized over how to best approach a situation he found himself in. He might have had you believe that he was mankind's answer to reason, logic, emotional attachment, and generosity.

My side will paint a different picture.

Oh, without a doubt, I am reviled by relatives, scorned by religious people, scowled at by neighbors, hated by friends who are no longer friends, and even hated by one kid's purple dinosaur on TV. Such is the judgement of society. Such will be my punishment until those who hold such views slowly succumb to time and are buried six feet under with all their hatreds and prejudices. In the end, none of it will matter. I'm sure if I took a stroll through the graveyard, any ghost would tell me a similar story of infidelity and lifelong hatred. Would I care? Would anyone who isn't already two hundred years dead? So I don't expect you to sympathize with me. No, society demands you hate me.

The only defense I have, and the only true cause I can claim to have planted my flag in and am proudly flying from its battlements is love.

Yes, I was offered Candi as an act of friendship. Yes, I was only offered her as a friend, from a friend, because Jim was my best friend. Jim doesn't know all the details.

Before I married Dani, and just before Jim had married Candi, Jim and I would spend a lot of time together. Jim went through about a dozen women a week during his dating life. There were times his tramps would call my house looking for him. I loved Jim, but who was I? Was I his personal secretary? Why was I catching flak for Jim dating certain women? Why was I having to answer for Jim's cheating on his girlfriends?

Jim didn't tell you, but the jerk was also good friends to a guy who was in the service. I didn't know the guy, but that didn't matter. The guy gets shipped overseas on some detachment, and Jim starts seeing the guy's wife. Getting a different picture of Jim, yet? Jim brags to me about how his friend is overseas and he's fucking the shit out of the wife. What kind of response can I have? No, he wasn't making it up; the wife in question came sniffing after Jim's dick knocking on my door looking for him.

Well, during those times when Jim's bed-hopping grated on my nerves more than anything, he meets a new gal. This one is different, quiet. This one doesn't cuss and drink and make scenes out in front of my house at all hours if Jim happened to be around. No, this one was reserved, tame, and so very not Jim's type.

I was introduced to her and promptly forgot her name. I didn't care about her. I had to be reminded three times that her name was Candi. I viewed all of Jim's women the same; cheap, tawdry, trashy, slutty, etc. I had to admit, though, after some time, that she was something more than he deserved. Don't get me wrong, Jim was my best friend; I just took a dim, sideways look at his skirt-chasing and tasted something sour.

Candi made an attempt to attract my attention. She was attracted to my looks, which are considerably better than the rougher style that Jim has. I don't know why she latched onto him, but I still viewed her as his, even though they were just dating. Apparently she didn't feel as attached to him, but in my book even dating meant off-limits.

Yeah, yeah, I know, later events made me rethink that and I broke a stronger rule.

So, I rebuffed her attempt at making a connection with me back when it was still "safe" because I was that kind of dependable friend. You just don't steal girlfriends. Laugh all you want.

Candi married Jim just a few weeks later. I married Dani a couple months after that. So Candi and I could have been, but weren't. Life's currents would drag us along for several years. There were no secret letters, no shared looks, and no stolen moments. Nothing existed between Candi and me except a friendship.

Jim was always thinking. He was always concerned about how friends should be to each other. He had a very strong idea of how close friends should be. He also loved his wife. All of his cheating stopped. All of his looking and flirting and disgusting behavior ended. Candi was good for him. I grew to appreciate both of them for their support and friendship as the years passed.

Dani was not the goddess of heaven. She was not the virgin Mary that everyone says she was. Sure, some thought she was sweet. Yes, she was somewhat quiet. But she was the most bitter, snide, backstabbing witch that I ever made the mistake of marrying. The ring on my finger became the shackle that bound me to servitude. I worked to pay her bills. At first things were balanced. We both contributed to the household. But as the years passed, she would spend all of her income on crap from the TV shopping channel, and then dig into my income to buy even more. Soon, my bonuses and stock windfalls were going to pay off her astronomical credit card bills.

I finally told Dani one day that I couldn't continue. I had given her all I could and found that I just couldn't support her. I was going to let her move on and find herself a man that could support her - a lawyer or doctor that made obscene amounts of money to pay her TV shopping bills. Let me tell you, her departure from my life was the blessing of GOD. I spent years recovering and throwing away useless crap that seemed to be everywhere in the house.

Jim loved Dani. He says he never flirted or did anything that was in anyway sexual, but I seem to remember a full tongue-kiss one day, and several "play-humps" on our couch. I secretly hoped Dani would want to run off with him and I could be rid of her. I didn't wish death on her, but yes, it was a blessing. Candi did not love Dani. Candi tolerated Dani. Candi kept her mouth shut around Dani because if she were to let her true dislike show, then Candi wouldn't get to spend time around me.

Jim was a true friend. He offered Candi as a salve when my soul needed something to cover the wound it had suffered. I may not have loved Dani by the time of her death, but the bond of marriage is stronger than just simple love. There is still loss involved, even though I was glad she was gone. Candi lifted my spirits. Jim tried to help it all along. He asked me once when Candi was walking ahead of us if I liked the look of her ass.

What do you say to that kind of question? See, Jim isn't the only thinker, although he thinks in black and white, whereas I think in shades of gray.

My talks with Candi developed at a speed that shocked the hell out of me - from friendly to longing in a matter of days. Just a few days after Candi and I first spent time alone dancing, I cornered her and kissed her. She wasn't expecting it, but her head tilted up to mine and her arms went around me without hesitation. There wasn't the slightest bit of struggle, balk, or regret. My mouth touched hers and our lips pressed gently together as our tongues made their first tentative but joyful exploration of each other. Our kiss was merely an echo, a distant repeat of a kiss Jim had pressed onto an unresistant Dani some years before - in front of me, too.

But where Jim and Dani didn't pursue anything from the kiss, Candi and I cultivated a yearning hunger. Was it just lust? Was it boredom? Was it the thrill of stealing a kiss from my best friend via his wife? Candi's kisses belonged to Jim, so I was technically stealing his kisses, no? Not a day or two later, I was at their house and Jim was upstairs. Candi was in a fever of desire and attacking me in their own living room. I was afraid that Jim would stomp down the stairs at any moment, but Candi didn't seem bothered. She reached her hand down my shorts and fumbled for the first time with my hardening penis. Her breath was shallow and her eyes were glazed as she stroked me.

I remember she cooed. No, please don't think I'm bragging. I'm average; not huge. I'm happy being average. Jim is the one with the "big" monster, the swinging dick, the massive meat pole, or whatever silliness you want to name it. Turns out, he was too big for Candi. Ha! Sex was painful for her, but she suffered it. So she cooed when she felt what I had.

"Nice," she murmured. "I want you. Right here, on the couch."

"Now?!" I couldn't believe she could suggest such a thing. Jim was up there getting in bed, but he could come back down at any moment. "No way."

So, the lust we felt was rebuffed. By me.

Her desire was unmistakable, though. Her body would shake whenever she got around me. The quivers were so obvious, I thought Jim surely noticed them. Wasn't he suspicious? Didn't he wonder why his wife's eyes would go all dreamy when she saw me? Why she only ever smiled when she looked at me? Why she would touch me whenever she could?

Now please, understand that I was determined not to destroy my friend's marriage. I did not want to take Candi away from Jim. I did not want to wreck what they had. I wasn't out to just ram my dick into some needy wife and believe there were no consequences. I didn't think with my dick. I considered the consequences, I reasoned with Candi about her relationship to my friend, I tried to talk to her about making her relationship to her husband better, and I tried to offer support in keeping them happy together as a couple.

Yes, I could think, too. I tried to be a good friend. Ahem...

Three days after Candi groped me, she called to tell me that Jim was headed out to interview for a job transfer to a better-paying division within his company. He would be gone for at least two hours. I came over before he left. I wanted him to know that I was there.

"Take care of my wife," he said to me. He smiled on his way out the door.

Was that an invitation? Or just a joke knowing that a true friend just couldn't violate that marriage trust? Or did he rather want to tease me because he knew his wife would never think of cheating on him? True, Candi and Jim had been married in a strong, unbroken marriage that neither violated.

I had to assume he was joking, of course; I knew better. Jim wouldn't offer her in that way without breaching the subject directly.

When the car door slammed, Candi beckoned me into the hall. I went and stood in front of her as we gazed at each other. Her husband wasn't even out of the driveway and our arms went around each other. She moaned against me and melted. I supported her more than hugged her.

I leaned her back against the hall stand so she was partially sitting on it and leaned my face down to hers. Our lips melded together in a soft kiss that turned hungry. I felt dizzy and strangely detached. Would Jim mind if he knew I was kissing her like this? He had kissed Dani like this once. He might mind, the hypocrite.

My hands wandered up and down her back, massaging and pressing her to me. My fingers came up and twined in her hair on the sides of her head as I kissed her. I knew I was doing wrong. He had probably watched or seen her brushing her hair that morning. Could he have imagined it would be toyed with in such a way? Could he have known I might be pressing my hips against hers and squirming into her crotch? Would he have ever dared imagine that she would be squirming back?

I slid my hands down and cupped her beautiful ass through her jeans, pulling her hips into mine. She was already pushing, but I accented the obvious by doing so.

Candi moaned in my mouth. Her hand cupped my ass through my pants and pulled me into her, also. Her movements became jerky and her breathing ragged.

I wanted to get my hands against her skin. I pulled up her tucked shirt so I could get my hands against the skin of her back. She quivered under my touch and then pulled sharply back. At first I thought she was breaking contact, wanting to stop.

Understand this: I would have stopped with her. I wasn't so far gone that I wouldn't have immediately put the brakes on where this was going.

Candi was stopping, though. Her hands tugged fiercely, almost angrily, at my pants. I understood and eased back to take my own pants off. She shrugged out of hers and we went back to hugging, still in our underwear. Our mouths met again as my erection pushed ay my underwear and rubbed against her thinly-covered mound. Her hips had a fleshy softness, even on her small frame, that was pleasant and inviting. I ran my hands back along her panty line and then under it. I stroked the cheeks of her ass and gave them a squeeze. She did the same to me then, but only for a second before she moved her hands around front to grip my very erect penis.

She took hold of it firmly and moaned as she stopped kissing me. Her knees were shaking and moving as if she were trying to decide to open them or close them onto me to massage me. Her hips made slow gyrations as she stroked me with shaking hands. After a couple seconds of that, she sighed raggedly and tore my underwear down my legs. She used her foot to slide them down to my feet so I could step out of them.

I stood there, naked, as she stroked me. She pulled me to her and placed me between her quivering thighs. My penis nestled up against her panties and I could feel her very swollen lips through them. She pumped her hips into mine and I pumped back. Her panties became soaked in about two blinks of her eye.

I reached my hand around and under her panty line again. I stroked my fingers down and around the curve of her ass until my fingers started to touch the lips of her vagina. The moan that came out of her was too much for me. I pulled on her panties and she quickly shoved them down, but not all the way. She wanted me back between her thighs.

I placed my penis back between her thighs, and I could feel her heat and moisture. She pumped her hips against mine and the luscious wetness slid back and forth along my shaft. I can't imagine that her husband was more than two blocks away as my pre-cum and her juices began to mingle.

I angled my erection to tease her opening, thinking that we were still safe; we could tease each other and still say nothing had happened. We could both walk away knowing that although we had crossed into inappropriate territory, that she would still be safe with him as far as cheating went. I've heard many people say that this kind of petting is or isn't cheating. Well, if this was, what was the difference between this mutual "humping" and the "humping" that Jim had done to Dani, just with clothes on? Did the clothes make it cheating, did the action, or was it not cheating yet because there was no penetration? Or was cheating copulation? If it was copulation, was cheating not cheating if I wore a condom? Or was it cheating only if one person felt it was, no matter what happened? Where was the line?

I see grays, not black and whites. This was where Jim and I never saw eye-to-eye. I did not consider this cheating. I wasn't looking to take her away. I wasn't looking to humiliate him in any way. I wasn't looking to treat Candi as some kind of slut. I wasn't looking to take, destroy their marriage, and walk away. I wasn't looking to be destructive. But I'm sure Jim would see a line somewhere, and he would probably put it at intercourse as to whether Candi had cheated or not.

While that was yet blurring through my mind, the head of my penis was rubbing her opening, scratching that itch back and forth in a slow, sensuous motion. Her hips shoved forward each time I pushed, and her hips angled down onto the head when she could. The warmth and wetness felt so good. Dani never felt like this. No other woman I had bedded had ever felt like this. Her flesh melted into mine and I felt the warmth all around the head of my throbbing erection. My head swam with the pleasure, and then I realized that the head was inside her. Just inside, angled for penetration.

"Umm," I said.

"What?" She gasped at me, her hips working to push onto mine.

"I think we're getting close to actually fucking, here, Candi." I was still concerned.

She didn't answer, but rather pressed her lips onto mine as her hips continued thrusting onto me.

I let the movement take me and kissed her back. I relished the feel of her vagina on me, even if it was just the head. If I didn't do any more than just tease her opening, then we still weren't screwing. She still wouldn't be cheating. We would just be guilty of getting awfully close. I went with her movements, allowing the tease, participating and helping. Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on your viewpoint - your body sometimes gets too used to something so that you don't realize that something more has occurred.

With a sudden jerk, I froze.

"What's wrong?" Candi asked me, concern painting her face.

"I think we're screwing." The head of my penis was feeling warmth because it was pushing farther into hotter areas. The warmth had spread down to the middle of my shaft.

"No way," she stammered.

I pulled out a little, quivering myself at the wonderful feel of her vagina. "See?"

"Are you sure?" The feverish look was on her face.

Sure, I was only partly in, and their hadn't been any serious pumping, but I don't think this would disqualify the cheating label. No, we had crossed that line. We were cheating, even if we didn't know it. I thought about pulling all the way out, confessing to Jim that our petting had gotten out of hand and that I was deeply apologetic.

For whatever reason, I rejected that. I know that many of the readers will damn me to hell for it and claim I'm the worst offender history has ever known and that I deserve all kinds of unholy shit all over me until I die, including a sound beating from Jim, spontaneous venereal disease that strikes only me, and the permanent curse of my name forever branded for all of history to know and revile. Yeah, whatever.

Instead of pulling completely out, I took hold of her hips and, with an even force, pushed all the way in. The folds of her vagina were snug and heated - they slowly opened with a moist embrace and allowed me to slide all the way in with an ease I had never known. Candi's head fell back and she uttered a lingering moan that seemed to come from her toes. I had been with many women before Candi, and she with many men. Not until now could I truly say that I had found the "perfect fit." For those of you that have found it, you know exactly what I mean.

I didn't pump, thrust, ram, slam, or any of those things you read constantly in these stories. Nope. I just held it there. I was filling her perfectly and we were just hugging each other. I breathed slowly, feeling the beat of her heart while I throbbed within her. I held her head to me and closed my eyes. I can't say that I was home, or belonged there or anything like that, either. I know I didn't belong there.

What I did was feel her through my erection, without moving, and just experienced her through our contact. I'm not sure how long we breathed together, holding each other, but I remember pulling out to her disappointment, and moving her to the couch.

I laid her down and she looked at me with a nervous look in her eyes. Yes, nervous. I'll have to explain that later. Candi spread her lovely legs for me, something she only did for her husband, and lifted her hips to me. Her very swollen and hungry opening was pointing straight at my aiming erection, and I first rubbed it all around her opening. She didn't like that.