Conversations 10

Author Notes:

Beginning in March 2019, author SleeperyJim submitted seven very well received stories as part of his "Conversations" series.

I have gone off in a completely different direction, with my story, but I want to thank SleeperyJim for getting me thinking.

This isn't a BTB or RAAC story. It's more of a DTB ... AGOLAGL (Divorce the Bitch and get on living a good life) type.

Thank you Marie, for your outstanding editing along with your positive feedback and support. Also, thanks John.

*****

Conversations

A conversation with Amy

"Sweetheart?" I asked, "Are you asleep?"

Amy shook her head and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Ummm Hmmmm."

I took that as a yes.

"Can you tell me, after nearly twenty-five years of marriage, why your oral sex skills have suddenly improved?"

Still half asleep, Amy grunted, "I've always sucked your cock."

I was watching Amy. She was relaxed and curled into a fetal position, with her back to me. She was hugging her extra pillow.

"Yes. You have. You've given me oral as foreplay but have never enjoyed it. Why the sudden change?"

Amy rolled over while still holding the pillow tightly. She flashed me her sexy blue eyes, a big smile and in a flirting voice said,

"I didn't hear you complain!"

I smiled back at Amy, my best friend and the woman I have adored since we met at a backyard summer party over two decades earlier.

"And I'm not complaining now. I'm just wondering why, after letting me cum in your mouth twice before we were married and never allowing me to cum in your mouth again, you've let me do it twice more, in one week, twenty-five years later."

Amy was wide awake and asked, "What's your problem, Chris?"

"I'm just asking a simple question, Amy. For twenty-five years, you've given me very unenthusiastic oral sex. It's been a chore at best."

Amy sat up in bed as I continued, "And tonight, you deepthroated me, sucked my balls, licked my asshole and made a show of swallowing my cum. I'm just wondering where the sudden enthusiasm has come from?"

Amy climbed out of bed and stood, with her hands on her hips, and glared at me.

"We can go back to the old way if that's what you'd prefer!"

Amy was angry, and I suspected she was going to get angrier.

"No. I love your new oral skills." I wanted to get a dig in, so I continued, "You're almost as good as some of my old college girlfriends."

Amy's face blushed an angry red, but before she could comment, I said,

"But you still haven't answered my question. Why have your blowjobs gotten better? Did you read an article, or have intimate talks with your girlfriends, or perhaps you've had some practical training?"

"What the hell are you accusing me of doing?" Amy was livid.

Calmly I told her, "I haven't accused you of a single thing. I'm just looking for an explanation. You've hated sucking my cock for our entire relationship, and suddenly, having my cock stuffed down your throat is a treat. I'm wondering why."

Amy grabbed her pillow, started toward the door and as she left the bedroom, she shouted angrily, "You don't need to rack your puny brain about it anymore, cause I'll never suck your cock again."

Amy was halfway down the hall, walking toward our guest room, when I said from our open bedroom doorway, "I guess it doesn't matter if you tell me the truth tonight. I'll find out tomorrow."

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"

"It means," I slowly told her, "that the private investigator I hired, almost six weeks ago, has finished his report. I'm meeting him in the morning. I suspect that your new and improved cock sucking skills will figure prominently in the report."

As I closed and locked the bedroom door, I saw Amy's jaw drop open. Amy's knocks, sobs and pleadings continued for over an hour, as I lay in our king size bed and cried into my pillow.

=============

Amy and I are early risers. Since I didn't want to speak with her, I had set my alarm clock for three in the morning. I dressed in gym clothes and left the house within five minutes. My workout that morning was two hours long and it left me exhausted. I showered, dressed in clothes I had packed into my car, the previous day.

I was settled into a booth at a favorite breakfast diner, just before six. I was two blocks from my office. After I ordered coffee, I turned on my phone and was immediately bombarded with notifications of texts and voicemails from my slut wife. I ignored the messages and sent my boss a text.

[Me] Can you meet me at Lucy's before work? No rush.

Thirty minutes later, I received: [Stacey] C U at 730

A conversation with Stacey

Stacey breezed into Lucy's, glanced around, and after spotting me, she plopped into the bench across from me. She ordered a coffee and a bagel "to go" and then looked at me.

Stacey did a double-take and stated, "You look like shit!"

"Yeah. I look like shit and feel worse."

"Is there a fuck-up at work that I need to know about?"

I was shaking my head, and I could sense Stacey relax before she finished her question.

"No. This is personal. I'm convinced that Amy is cheating on me. She all but confirmed it last night. This morning I'm meeting with a PI who I hired. His report is ready, and I'll get all the nasty details. I just want to give you a heads up that I'll be slipping in and out of the office while this mess gets worked out."

Stacey sat silently and collected her thoughts.

She finally asked, "How can I help?"

"Unless you've got a magic wand, I'm not sure there's much you can do. I'll be taking the next two days off, but will keep in constant contact with the office. That will get me to the weekend. I'm going to stay away from Amy for a while. I meet with my private investigator later this morning and an attorney tomorrow morning." I shrugged my shoulders in conclusion.

"Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself? Unless you're not telling me something, you haven't seen any evidence?"

"I provoked an argument about sex last night. Amy got heated very quickly and stormed out of the bedroom. I told her that she didn't need to answer my questions... my PI would answer them in the morning. If you had seen the look on Amy's face, you'd be one hundred percent certain about what the report will say."

"You need to talk with her, Chris."

"I know. I will, but not now."

"Where are you staying?" Stacey asked.

"I'll grab a room."

Stacey started fishing around inside her suitcase-sized purse and finally pulled out a ring of keys.

As she took a key off the ring, she said, "Here's a key to our cottage. You've been there. It's only a thirty-five minute drive. We're not using it until the end of the month."

As she handed me the key, she asked, "Can I give you some advice?"

"Sure."

"If things go as you expect, your life will get worse before it gets better. Life will be crappy for a while. And then one day, you'll wake up, and you won't feel completely shitty. You'll just be miserable. That'll be the start of your recovery"

"It sounds like you are talking from experience."

"My ex divorced me twelve years ago. It was brutal."

We sipped our coffee, and Stacey continued, "I don't talk about it much, mostly because I'm ashamed. I fucked up my life, my kid's life, and Tom's life. His family despises me. My son's friends hit on me, because they know I'm a slut."

I interjected, "You don't have to tell me these things, Stacey."

"I know. Even after completing two years of weekly therapy sessions, I have more questions about my idiotic behavior than I have answers."

We each chuckled sadly.

Stacey continued, "Tom found out about my infidelity in the worst possible way. He tested positive for an STD. I gave my husband and best friend a disease."

I was at a loss for words, so she continued, "It gets worse if that's even possible. I panicked and blamed Tom and said he gave me the disease. We both knew...hell...everyone knew, I'm the cheater."

"Why did you do it?"

Stacey was staring at the tabletop as she admitted, "Because I could; because I wanted to feel sexy again; because I wanted to have a nasty secret; because I liked illicit, anonymous, rough sex."

She explained, "I travel for business just like you do. Once or twice a year I'd meet an interesting man and I'd invite him to my room. It seems so stupid in retrospect."

The silence continued until Stacey asked, "Have you ever cheated?"

"No. To be honest, I've never been tempted. Don't get me wrong. I'm not an angel. I like to flirt and I like to know that women find me attractive, but I've never considered betraying Amy."

"Why do you think that is?"

"It's just the way I'm wired. Sex with Amy has been fairly vanilla. She doesn't like to experiment. But an average playdate with Amy is always better than the kinkiest one night stand from college."

"What made you suspicious?"

"Amy and I have always had an active sex life. Even after twenty-five years, we get naked two or three times a week. Over the last few months, Amy has been a bit more aggressive...a bit more adventurous...a bit more..."

I shrugged again.

"After a couple of months, with a growing knot in my stomach, I hired a PI. I find out the results in a couple of hours."

"I'll bet that Amy will call the office looking for you. What should we tell her?"

"Tell her that I'm taking some vacation time and won't be back to the office until next week."

Stacey picked up our tab, along with her bagel. She leaned over and gave me a long hug and told me, "Hang in there. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

=======

Our daughters, Julie and Kate, were juniors at the University of Connecticut. Julie was exactly nine months older than her sister. Kate was allowed to skip fourth grade and as a result, graduated from high school in the same class as her older sister.

Julie was following in my footsteps and was an electrical engineering major. Kate was a chemistry major and was planning on a career in medicine.

I had been able to reach Kate on her cell phone earlier in the day, telling her that I needed to speak to her and her sister, sometime later in the afternoon, and asked that they not have contact with their Mom until after we had talked.

A conversation with Julie and Kate

"Dad! What the hell is going on? Mom has called us each a dozen times and must know we are ducking her calls."

I kissed Kate on the cheek, as I hugged Julie and led them to a table in a quiet corner of UCONN's student union.

"You look like shit, Dad," observed Julie.

I had a belly laugh for the first time in weeks, as I recognized those were the exact words my boss had said earlier in the day.

"Yeah. You're not the first to notice."

It was Kate's turn, and she said, "Just tell us, Dad. We're worried. What's going on?"

I had been rehearsing in my head how to respond to that question, but was at a loss for words when it was time to talk. Instead, the sob I'd been holding in since I met with my private investigator let loose, along with a fountain of tears.

Both girls jumped from their chairs and into my arms. My girls held me tight until I was able to gain control of my very raw emotions.

"I'm sorry I have to tell you this, but I'll be filing for a divorce from Mom. She's in the middle of a long term, ongoing affair with a coworker."

Julie started, "But Dad ... are you ..." She couldn't finish her thought.

"Yeah, Baby. I'm sure. I have proof."

Julie's mouth hung open and Kate started to cry. It was Julie who spoke next.

"Dad, I want to see the proof. I know you are not lying, but I need to see something."

Earlier in the afternoon, I had taken one photo that was horrific, but among the least offensive, and separated it from the rest of the PI's report.

I pulled out the picture of their Mom and Mike Brooks exiting a house that their real estate firm was trying to sell. Michael and Amy were on the front porch and they were kissing.

The girls looked at the picture together and Julie started, "Dad ..."

"Sweetheart," I interrupted, "I have pictures, videos, text messages and emails. I'll never show either of you, but I've seen them. They are awful."

At this point, both girls were sobbing.

Kate asked through her tears, "Are you really going to divorce Mom?"

"Girls, At this point, I don't see an alternative. I know I've never been the perfect husband or father."

I waved off their protests and continued, "But I've tried to do the right thing. Most of the time, I was successful, but occasionally, I screwed up. My mistakes were never intentional and I always corrected my errors immediately. I've put everything I am into my marriage and family. I don't have more to give and it appears that Mom needs more."

The girls had stopped crying and were intently listening to my words.

"I still love your Mom, although not as much as I did six weeks ago when I started to get suspicious. But I don't like her very much. I certainly don't trust her and can't imagine ever trusting her again. The worst part for me is I've lost your Mom's respect. She has been demeaning me and humiliating me in the worst ways possible, and doesn't care."

A short silence was broken by Julies' ringing cell phone. We looked down at the phone screen and saw "MOM".

Looking at Julie, I said, "Don't..."

Before I could say more, Julie had snatched up her phone and angrily answered, "I'm sorry, Mother, but Kate and I don't have time for you. We are consoling our heartbroken father. If you need someone to talk too, just call up your fuck buddy."

We could all hear Amy hysterically shouting as Julie hung up the phone. When the phone rang again immediately, Julie turned the phone off and Katie followed suit.

"I'm sorry that you'll be in the middle of this awful mess. Your Mom ... well ... she's still your Mom. She loves you and you know it. I expect things will be raw between the two of you and Mom, at least for a while, but I also expect you to treat her with the respect she deserves."

When the girls started protesting, I held up my hand.

"I'm not asking you to accept her infidelity or the irrevocable damage she's done to our wonderful family, but we will all have to learn to live with it."

I looked back and forth between my girls and continued, "She's your Mom and you need to accept and love her, warts and all, just like you need to accept me, in the same way."

=============

After leaving the UCONN campus, I stopped at a burger joint for some food and a well-deserved craft beer, then headed over to my Mom and Dad's home.

I rarely visit my folks, unannounced and as I sat in their driveway and gathered my thoughts, I saw their front door swing open. Dad stepped out and onto the front stoop and Mom followed closely behind. Together they watched me as I sat in my car. I gathered some courage and exited the car and as I started up the front walk, Dad walked toward me.

Dad and I meet halfway and he pulled me into a tight bear hug. The strength I had tried to summon, abandoned me and I unashamedly cried into Dad's shoulder.

"Your Mom and I don't know what's going on, but the frantic phone calls from Amy alerted us that there's a problem. We were expecting you to show up tonight."

A conversation with Mom and Dad

After I explained to my parents Amy's affair with her co-worker, my Mom asked, "Do you think counseling can help you get over this problem?"

My Mom is ever the optimist, and truth-be-told, she considered Amy to be her daughter. Tears started to fall down her cheek as I shook my head and said, "I don't have any interest in seeing a shrink. I'm not perfect, but I treated Amy and the girls like queens. I didn't do anything wrong and don't deserve the cruel, disgusting way Amy has treated me."

"But you've had so many great years together!"

With a sigh, I admitted, "You're right, Mom. We have had a great life together, until Amy...and Amy alone...destroyed that perfect life and family. This wasn't a drunken one night stand. It is a love affair, between two selfish married people, who care about no one except themselves."

I could tell that the wheels in Mom's brain were turning frantically, as she tried to think of another approach.

I think I stunned Mom when I asked, "Why would you want me to be miserable living with a lying, cheating whore? As I said, I'm not perfect, but I hope we can all agree that I deserve better than living with an unfaithful slut."

"Please, Chris," Mom begged, "Don't call Amy those foul names, at least in front of me."

"I was trying to make a point, Mom. Amy has gladly accepted all that I'm capable of giving, but it isn't good enough. She took much more and humiliated and disrespected me in the process. I'll ask again, don't I deserve better?"

Dad interrupted and said, "Give your Mom a break. We are trying to wrap our heads around something that's still a shock. You know that Mom and I will support you in any decision you make."

Dad waited a few seconds before he continued, "And you need to understand, if it's possible, we'd like a continued relationship with Amy and her family. It certainly won't be as strong as the one we have now, but I pray that Amy's activities haven't precluded that happening."

As Dad finished, Mom's cell phone rang. Mom looked at the screen and said, "It's Amy."

After another second's thought, Mom looked me in the eye and said, "I won't duck Amy's calls, and I won't lie to her."

"I'll never ask you too."

Dad and I sat silently as Mom answered the phone.

[Mom] Hello Amy.

[Mom] He arrived here ten minutes ago and has told us about your behavior.

[Mom] I assume he'll stay here tonight.

[Mom] Amy! Amy!

"I'm sorry, Chris. Amy is on the way over."

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I'm going to take off. I'll give you a call in the morning."

Mom asked, "Where will you go?"

"Stacey has a family cottage out on Cooper Lake. She's letting me use it for the short term."

"You're going to have to talk with her eventually," Dad pointed out.

"I will, but I'm going to do it on my time-line and not hers. I'm simply not ready."

"What should we tell Amy when she arrives?" Mom wanted to know.

"I'd call her and tell her that she's making a wasted drive. Tell her I'm not ready to talk to her. I know you won't lie, but I expect that you won't tell her where I'm staying."

Mom started crying. I circled the table and pulled her into a tight hug. Dad joined us, and the Harrington family comforted each other. My Mom and Dad silently gave me all the emotional support I'd needed.

==========

After officially starting the wheels of divorce in motion with a visit to a highly recommended divorce attorney, I headed over to my in-laws home.

Amy's car wasn't in the driveway, so I parked and headed to the front door.

A conversation with Amy's parents

"It's really bad. Isn't it?"

Those were the first words of greeting as Frank Wilson answered his front door.

"It doesn't get much worse."

Frank stood in the middle of the doorway, blocking my entrance and asked,

"Who cheated?"

"She did."

"Do you have proof?" Frank wanted to know.

When I nodded, Frank yelled, "fuck," and turned, leaving the door open and walked to the kitchen.

Eileen, Amy's Mom, sat fidgeting at the kitchen table. She looked up, as I entered and indicating the coffee machine on the counter said, "The coffee is fresh."

While I silently poured a cup, Frank pulled a bottle of Jack from a kitchen cabinet. We sat and Frank added a healthy couple of ounces of bourbon to his coffee and slid the bottle across the table to me.

As I added some liquid courage to my cup, Frank asked, "Can I see the evidence?"

Staring down at the kitchen table, I told him, "I'll let you see the written report, but I won't show you the pictures or videos."