Half a Loaf

Traci had drifted off to sleep in my arms with her head on my chest after what most couples would proudly call one hell of a good session of sex. We had just spent about an hour and half in various positions, and not only did I make Traci cum at least six times, but four of those were of the screaming orgasm variety.

At the very least, she was going to have a sore throat tomorrow.

As I lay there holding her, I caught sight of her wedding rings sparkling on her left hand, which was draped across my stomach. I smiled. Those rings were not from me. I didn't feel one bit guilty about that, however.

It was March 17, 2017, exactly 10 years to the day that I last made love to Traci. She was mine then and I thought I had the world by the ass. Until the afterglow, when the world as I knew it came crashing to an end.

So now, 10 years later, there is no discussion as Traci innocently sleeps. I wondered to myself if she even has a clue as to the significance of the day.

I let her sleep about 20 more minutes before waking her. It's 9 p.m. She told her husband it was girls' night out, and I don't want her to get in trouble for walking in too late. She'll need to take a shower and be presentable when she walks in her door. I don't want her husband to get suspicious, because I plan on several repeat engagements over the next few weeks while I'm back in town. Turnabout is more than fair play.

Of course, why would Frankie Fernandez every let Traci out of the house knowing that she cheated her way out of her first marriage, to me, Rob Showalter.

"Really, Frankie? And I thought that once upon a time, I was a clueless bastard," I muttered out loud.

Traci woke in a slightly confused state, then caught my eyes and remembered clearly where she was and why. She smiled shyly at me.

"Hey, you, I kind of passed out on you. How long was I asleep?" she asked.

"About an hour. I've been watching you sleep."

Traci knew she needed to get up, showered and dried, and headed home.

"Can we do this again before you have to leave?" she asked.

"Most definitely. Can you work late Tuesday evening?"

Traci nodded her pretty blonde head and got out of bed.

"Plenty of towels in the bathroom. I'd say to use the hotel soaps and stuff so it won't be too obvious when you get home," I said.

I laid in bed and let my mind wander while Traci showered. I drifted back to March 17, 2007. A 28-year-old Traci didn't fall asleep after having multiple screaming orgasms over a two-hour period. Instead, after regaining her composure from the final orgasm, she looked me straight in the eyes while we lay side-by-side and said the four words men fear the worst, "We have to talk."

Just 28 myself, I hadn't yet acquired man of the world status, so the significance of those words didn't register. Although I was wearing a condom as usual, I had just come a bucketload into it inside my wife of six years, and had her juices smeared all over my face from the tongue-lashing I had given her pussy prior to our lovemaking. I felt like a conquering hero.

"I'm pregnant, Rob," Traci said matter-of-factly, looking deeply into my eyes for a reaction.

My eyes got wide and and I started to smile even wider for a split-second before reality bitch-slapped me back to earth.

"How is that possible? We've never had sex bareback ..."

I felt gutshot.

"I'm sorry, Rob. I didn't mean for this to happen, believe me. I love you with all my heart, and I'm hoping we can get past this ..."

"Are you fucking kidding me!" I screamed while jumping straight up out of bed. "There's no getting past this! I'm not raising another man's kid! Either you're talking abortion here, or you'll be talking to a lawyer pretty damn fast!"

I sat back down on the bed with my back to Traci.

"Oh shit. Oh shit," I moaned softly, tears running down my cheeks.

"How could you do this to me, to us?" I croaked. "How far along are you? You do know who the father is, right?"

The words were spilling out of my mouth almost incoherently. Traci put her arm on my right shoulder from behind.

"I'm sorry. The father is Francisco Fernandez. You remember him? The kid from Mexico who started working in my department last year? We've been having unprotected sex for the last six months."

"The Fernandez kid? He's what, 22?" I sniffled out. "He's barely out of college."

"I'm sorry, Rob. It just happened. We got carried away one night after working late and then grabbing a few drinks. I knew it was wrong, but I still did it, and then the sex was so great I just couldn't stop myself ..."

"Of course the sex was so great! You were fucking another man bareback, while you've been making me wear a condom since before we were married because you didn't want to get pregnant. Jesus, Traci!

"At least tell me you don't love the little bastard. Tell me it was just sex, for God's sake!"

I turned to face Traci at that point. She lowered her eyes to the floor while turning red.

"It started out as just great sex, but yeah, I think I have feelings for him, too," Traci said just above a whisper.

"So how can you look me in the face and tell me you still love me? That we can get past this? Was tonight anything other than just my final hurrah?"

"I know this is hard, Rob, but I really do love you, and if you're willing to work with me, we can get past this and be a strong couple again moving forward. I have feelings for him, but not like I have for you. It's you that I want for my husband, Rob."

"There's the little matter of the baby, Traci. Even if I was to forgive you, I won't raise another man's child."

"It would be just like a stepchild, Rob. You could do that. You have enough love in you for that," she responded.

"But it wouldn't be like a stepchild, Traci. This is a child that you and Frankie conceived when you cheated on me - you broke trust with me, Traci. Trust and respect are two of the cornerstones of love, and you missed on both counts with this kid."

"You can't ask me to give up my baby, Rob," she said with a finality to her tone.

"Then this decision's been made. I love you with all my heart, Traci, and I'm sure to some extent I will always love you, but I also have to be able to be able to look myself in the mirror when I shave for the rest of my life."

I got up off the bed, packed a few things in a suitcase and left. Never said another word to her for the six months more we were married until the divorce became official. I went back to the house a few times to clear out my stuff, going during the workday so I wouldn't run into her. I never returned a text or phone call, and the few times we did see each other, like in court, I didn't say a word to her.

The divorce was about as antiseptic as it could be, with everything split down the middle. We agreed to sell the house after one year, with me paying the mortgage on it until then, to give her time to get settled with the baby - his baby. The child was born just two weeks after the divorce became official.

Traci's sister Amanda later told me that Frankie wasn't even in the delivery room when the child, a 6-pound boy, was born. He did move into my old house about three months later, and he and Traci got married about three months after that. The good news for me is that they bought my share of the house, and decided to live there.

Three years later, they had a second son.

I lived pretty anonymously in a mobile home park while I rebuilt my life. My boss and co-workers at the engineering firm were very supportive of me, as were my long-time friends from college and before. Now that I was no longer living in my home, the neighborhood friends went away, as did most of the friends we acquired since being married. One of my divorced friends told me it was pretty standard that way, and I shouldn't take offense. Okay, none taken.

Traci broke my reverie by coming out of the bathroom at that point, drying her hair with a towel. It might have just been my take on things, but I thought she looked radiant, and was glowing from the "sex hangover."

"You might want to tone that down a few notches," I said to her playfully. "We all agree I'm pretty clueless, and even I can see you've just had some good sex."

"Correction, great sex," she interjected, "But you're right. I can't walk in the door feeling like I'm 10 feet tall and bullet-proof."

She went back into the bathroom, dried off the rest of the way and reset her makeup while I watched from the doorway. She was very careful to only use a little perfume, to not give her husband the impression that she had just re-dosed herself to hide something - like the smell of sex.

When she was done, she picked up her purse, gave me a peck on the lips, and said, "See you Tuesday, lover."

Lover, yeah, right.

I was in town for about a month finishing up a big project that was based out of my old building at Big Guy Dynamics. I had gotten a promotion that moved me to headquarters two states over about four years ago, so when I had to come back, the company put me up at their usual hotel. Being back in my old town got me thinking about the old days, of which Traci was a huge part. That got my dick to stirring and my brain to working.

"Why not?" I thought to myself. "She's clean, beautiful, a helluva fuck, and the wife of the man I most hate in the world."

Never before in my life had I ever approached a woman I knew was married. I've always considered it against my personal code of conduct. But this, I reasoned, was different. Yeah, I know two wrongs don't make a right, but then again neither do one wrong and one right. I was just going to get a little tit for tat, along with some pussy as well if I was lucky. Translation: I just didn't give a shit if I was going to fuck things up for Traci and Frankie and their family.

Although I never responded to any phone messages or texts Traci left me after I walked out, I still had her number. A few days after I got back in town, I cryptically texted her, "Want to talk ... or something? I'm back in town for about a month. Friday night at Landreaux at 6."

Landreaux was on the edge of the city, on the far end from her house, so the possibilities of her running into someone she knew were small. And they served the best Cajun in town, and I knew the effect a few drinks and Cajun food had on her libido.

I had made a reservation for 6 and was seated at the table five minutes early. I ordered a Buffalo Trace bourbon on ice for me and a Tequila Sunrise for her. Just as the waitress was setting the drinks down, Traci walked in the door, wearing a black sleeveless smock-type silk dress, with the buttons undone to the bottom of her large braless breasts, the hemline about four inches above her knees and black ankle boots. Her alabaster skin contrasted nicely with the black as the front opening showed enough cleavage to be engaging, and her toned biceps and triceps showed that at 38 she still was a presence in the gym. To my trained eye, she looked to be about 10 pounds heavier than when we were married, but after two kids her boobs were still pretty solid-looking and upright. And she still had the toned legs of a goddess.

The dress told me that unless I fucked up, I was going to be doing something more than talking.

I stood as she made her way over the table, gave her a polite peck on the cheek, and held her chair while she got seated.

"Wow. Is this how you meet all your ex-husbands?" I said in as light a tone as possible.

Her eyes flashed an instant of anger before she caught my smile and realized I was giving her a compliment. Her face and upper chest flushed pink.

"Thank you," she said barely above a whisper.

I didn't give a shit about her family life, but we small-talked until the meal arrived. She told me both she and Frankie had moved up in their company and that they were doing well financially. She told me their boys, Eliseo and Alexander, were now 10 and 7, playing Little League, and would be in fifth and second grade, respectively, in the fall.

Me? I told her that life pretty much sucked since the divorce, although I was doing great with Big Guy, making a ton of money. I hadn't dated much since the divorce, and because of trust issues I rarely dated anyone more than a few times.

At least she had the good sense to look guilty when I told her my tale of woe, but once I got the look, I figured it was time to move on if I wanted the evening to go as I hoped. A pang of guilt was good, I figured, a full guilt trip would probably result in an early evening.

I turned the tone upbeat after that and showed a side of me no one had seen in 10 years ... my charming and delightful side. I told her funny stories from work, regaled her with anecdotes, and even got her laughing at some silly jokes. Then I laid on the compliments about how fantastic she looked, which was completely true, and told her that I was glad things had turned out good for her, which was a complete lie.

We split a dessert, only because she said she was watching her weight, and I fed her from my fork for her bites. We were pretty adorable throughout the meal, and I'm sure at first glance the others in the restaurant would have mistaken us for a wonderfully happy couple. A closer look would have shown them, however, that I wasn't wearing a wedding ring.

I invited Traci back to the hotel for some coffee, and she accepted immediately. We drove separate cars, so Traci could leave when she needed to.

We started off sitting about a cushion apart on the sofa for the first cup of coffee. By the second cup, we were sitting knee to knee before she ever-so-delicately climbed into my lap sidesaddle. The kissing started then, and within 10 minutes we were naked in bed. I quickly had my face between her thighs, and amazingly, it was like we had never been apart. I licked and fingered her to countless orgasms as she screamed and writhed in delight, and for a few minutes there I thought I was going to make her pass out. Then, as she recovered from that orgasm, she told me to stop and fuck her right then because she needed my cock. And at that moment, I needed her pussy no less.

I have not exactly been a pussy-hound since the divorce, and it had been a few months since I last had sex with a woman, so it took every ounce of restraint for me to last 10 minutes. In that time, though, I managed to get Traci off one final time, and as she started in on her orgasm she took me over the edge with her. Seriously, though, I hadn't come like that ... in 10 years.

I was treated like a conquering hero back in my old office by those who were still there from the old days. My old boss, "Dan" Daniels, in particular seemed very pleased to have me back. I was invited over to his house for a barbecue and swimming with his family on Sunday, and on Monday he invited me out to dinner on Tuesday night, which I had to decline due to a previous engagement.

"What previous engagement? A porno and your right hand in the hotel?" he inquired.

"I've got a date, Dan," I said matter-of-factly.

"Wait, Mr. No Life here just gets back into town after a four-year absence and already has a date? Get out of here, you fucking liar. With who?"

"Traci," I half-whispered as we were in his office with the door open at the time.

It was probably a good thing he was already sitting down as we were talking, or else he might have fallen down. Almost like in a Jim Carrey movie, his mouth dropped wide open, and I could see the gears practically turning in his head.

"Are you fucking kidding me! She's your ex-wife, and she's a married woman, you scumbag," he hissed.

"Yes, she is, and she's married to the man I most hate in all the world, so fooling around with her doesn't bother me in the least. Her being married is her problem ... and her husband's, I suppose," I answered.

"Well, I don't want to know anything else about it. How about dinner on Wednesday, then, unless you've got a date with a group of nuns or something."

"Wednesday would be wonderful. Tell Annie I appreciate the invite. Red or white?"

"Red, asshole. And I'll just pass on telling Annie anything about the Traci thing. Boy, going to work at corporate has turned you into a real piece of work."

Halfway through the day I texted Traci with the name of the restaurant. Little Israel had all the ethnic Jewish food you could want, and I was betting that Frankie wasn't a big fan of Jewish food. She texted back that she was looking forward to "working late" and meeting me at 6.

She must have brought a set of clothes with her to change into, because I'm not sure Grossnickle & Associates would have been very forgiving of her outfit. She wore a see-through peasant blouse over a frilly white bra, and her wrap skirt was short and clingy. My dick immediately jumped to attention when she came into the restaurant.

"Wow. I like-ee!" I stage-whispered as she approached the table.

"This old thing. Please," she responded.

We had another great meal, then headed back to my hotel for round two. Changing my routine a little bit, I concentrated heavily on her outer lips with both my fingers and my tongue, driving her to several powerful orgasms. Then I sucked her clit into my mouth and I thought she was going to high jump out of the bed - from a laying down position on her back! Damn, she was as wonderful as ever. After my playing, we started out making love missionary, switched to doggy for a bit and wound up with me standing just off the bed with her legs stretched out against my chest. I got great penetration on that one, and she came twice more before I unleashed a torrent of cum into her pussy.

We cuddled as we both came down. Traci had a light sheen of sweat all down her front and looked amazing. She also had the glazed look of a woman who was completely satisfied.

"You're still amazing," she finally said to me. "God, I've missed this so-o-o-o much!"

"Trace, if I'm so good at this, then why did you cheat with Frankie?" I asked earnestly, without a note of rancor in my voice.

I know I caught her off-guard with how innocently I asked the question. By the way she looked at me, I'm not sure she ever really thought it completely through before.

"He was just so cute and had those puppy dog eyes and just kind of flirted with me all the time," Traci began. "I guess he began to wear me down. I started developing some feelings for him, not like the kind I had for you, but feelings nonetheless, and one night after going out with several of the team from work, we wound up alone in this bar, and he leaned over and kissed me. And it was just so good and delicious that I responded back. I knew I shouldn't have. I knew it was wrong. But my body kind of took over for me, and we wound up back at his apartment.

"And the sex was just amazing. Every bit as good as with you, although in fairness, I was making you wear a condom and him not. I was so wet I was dripping, and I think I actually squirted for the first time in my life. After that, I just had to have more, even though I knew I was cheating on you. But I couldn't give it up. I was having amazing sex with my husband, then going out and having amazing sex with my lover. I felt like a goddess. I guess I got carried away, especially since I was letting him fuck me bareback. That turned out to be my biggest mistake, because I think you might have stayed if I hadn't gotten pregnant."

She looked at me with a kind of hopeful expression. I nodded affirmatively. Honestly, as much as I loved her, I probably would have stayed if she hadn't gotten pregnant and would have quit the affair.

"So what's happened now, Traci? Don't you love him anymore? Why are you here?"

"We're here because you still love me, and I still love you," she said tearfully. "I never stopped loving you. I have feelings for him, but I've never stopped loving you. And you just walked out of my life and left me.