Authors Note: Again many thanks for constructive criticisms of my three previous submissions - especially pointing out my errors in spelling, homonyms, person/tense inconsistencies and the ideas of how my stories might have been improved really helped.
I hope you enjoy this new submission. Just one note on a convention I use. When a person talks to oneself I use ["..."] since italics doesn't work very well in text submissions.
c1992w
Kathleen Perry (Mrs. R. D. Perry) was naked on knees, her breasts flat on her Lover's hotel bed while her lover, Ralph Stimson, attempted to bring her to her third orgasm by fucking her ass. She was enjoying her legendary 'three-martini lunch hour,' while Ralph Stimson was just minding business.
Military aircraft assembly plants are visited daily by Sales Engineers for parts vendor government subcontractors. For example, Mr. Stimson comes to this particular factory the first Wednesday of each new quarter to verify that the supply chain operation of his company in place was working smoothly and to solicit more business. Each visitor is led into a conference room where in house project engineers will be interviewed by the visitor. In Mr. Stimson's case, there were two primary and two back up engineers very familiar with the supply chain operation of his and his two competitors companies. The facilitator's job was to make sure that every visitor met the proper project engineers of interest to both so that theoretically no one wasted anyone else's time and to be knowledgeable of any issues that needed discussing with the supplier Reps. Kathleen Perry was the lead facilitator for this plant and it was rumored that no visitor ever wasted his/her time or the time of the project engineer in a meeting where even one of the participants was unprepared or unqualified to participate in the meeting.
Mrs. R. D. Perry was in her mid thirties when she met and was immediately drawn to Ralph Simpson when she first introduced herself to him in the vendor waiting room five years ago. She spotted his seven inch long middle finger when they shook hands and extrapolated that his cock could be as much as a foot long. On his next quarterly visit she had had the best fuck of her entire life and they had continued to enjoy a good fuck each quarter since then. Through the years she had also fought guilt and angst because she had a husband and two zombie children who looked up to her.
By way of contrast, Mr. 'six foot eight,' as Ralph Stimson was known amongst the promiscuous female facilitators, didn't have a care in the world. The money rolled in from the Defense Department, the sluts were always lined up waiting for him wherever he traveled, and he was a model citizen - a former athlete and a successful investor in the sub-contractor company for whom he works.
Still on her knees Kathleen raised up slightly to look at her watch and said, "Ralph, I must get back to work as my division chief is cracking down on staff having too many very long lunch hours with vendors. The lover immediately stood up and went to the bathroom to clean himself up, after which Kathleen took a quick shower.
She was blow drying her hair when Ralph said, "Check out time is in 15 minutes, will you please hurry?'
"Sure, Ralph, see you in 3 months more or less," as she let herself out of the hotel room. She hurried to the hotel parking lot and drove under the freeway to the Factory's employee parking lot.
As usual she felt rotten after one of her sessions with Ralph, and again swore on her mother's memory that she would not do it again. The afternoon was very busy at the office so she was able to subdue her self-condemnation by focusing on the job at hand. But the drive home in the gridlocked traffic at the end of the work day was her nemesis. Most days the robots reading the National news on the car radio was sufficiently mind-numbing until it wasn't ever necessary to consider what is important. But after her visits with Ralph, and especially today, the Robot readers could not suppress the vision of the faces of her two teens. They both were racked with inner conflicts which they reflected in their dress and lack of interest in learning anything at school, and often took prescribed medications just to cope with life. She put the blame for their failure squarely on herself for not being a Mom focused on the needs of her growing children over the years.
Then there was the face of her husband, R.D. She remembered that once upon a time he desperately and hopelessly loved her more and more while her love for him entropically cooled. Kathleen realized that at some point he had just resigned himself that they had no future as a real family. Their marriage then degenerated to one of convenience, held together by financial necessity and the popular charade was played for the 'sake of the children.' As she pulled into her driveway and the garage door was rising, Kathleen mumbled to herself, ["I have got to find a solution to my problem. Soon I will be '4' '0' years old woman having squandered my existence to this point."]
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R.D. Perry was a gaming software designer and had relationships with up to a dozen contractors who coded his designs. He paid each per assignment with a personal check and sent them an IRS1099 each January. Thus no one worked for him as an employee per se and his major financial reason for remaining married to Kathleen was to be on her insurance as a dependent and to help operate their 3,000 foot house. He had built up a steady, though not spectacular, income stream of which he was proud, but was no where near reaching his goal. Sex with his wife was an occasional tension relieving exercise - much like using the treadmill which he was doing now - and he, too, wondered where the passion had gone? He reasoned, ["At 42 I should be fucking 4 or 5 times a week, rather than once a month when Kathleen is tipsy. I wonder if I should have an affair with my Asian code pusher? Her marriage is dreadful according to an overheard conversation she had with another programmer. All I would have to do is indicate an interest and we could get it on. But I don't want to fuck around. What's a guy to do?"] As he finished his 30 minutes on the treadmill, R.D. continued talking to himself, ["I have got to find a solution to my problem."]
The sound of the garage door going up brought R.D. back to the moment so he finished in the basement gym and made his way to the kitchen. He was sitting on a stool at the breakfast nook sipping a bottle of water when Kathleen came into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of wine from the refrigerator and sat down beside her husband. She forced a smile at him and said, "How was your day, R.D.?"
"Great! I put my spec sheets for a new Apple app out to four code pushers this morning. I believe the new game will be producing revenue within a month. How was yours?"
"SameO, SameO for me except the funniest salesman I know made his first Wednesday of the new quarter call today. He comes to solve any problems with the current contract and of course tries to increase his business. All the engineers like him and sometimes he even takes me or one of the other facilitators out to lunch. So, his wit was the high point of my day."
R.D. sat for a moment silent and frowning and then said, "Kathleen, I am frustrated. We need to talk. We need to talk about us and our family. Can we do that now?"
"Sure. Lets Talk."
"Randy is 19 and Julie will be 18 next month, and I want a divorce by then. Both are working near minimum wage service jobs part time and have no interest in going to school so our legal obligation to them is over. I haven't been happily married to you for at least 10 or 12 years. I sense that you are not happy with me either so what do you say lets split everything down the middle and part as friends after a no contest divorce? "
She replied, "So financial interdependence and our children's reaching adulthood has been the glue holding us together, you've come right out and said it?"
"Well, yes. Kathleen, I want to have a sex life that goes along with loving and being loved. My occasional banging around inside of you when you are tipsy from too much wine is not good enough. I am 42 and not getting any younger. Can't we be reasonable about this?"
Kathleen had a draconian panic attack and she started shallow breathing rapidly talking to herself trying to stop the fear from rising like a deadly mushroom cloud in her mind. ["Oh girl, you started fucking around about 12 years ago. You murdered the soul of your husband because he knows that you are a slut and doesn't care enough to even confront you. He kept hoping against hope that you would change because he loved you so much. Both Randy and Julie showed so much promise as first graders and now look at them - largely unemployed and unemployable into a career track job."] By now her panic attack had evolved into a wailing episode that followed a pattern that R.D. had seen before. He did note that the severity was much worse than the last few times. But he was unimpressed and continued to just look at her, awaiting some kind of answer.
"R.D., I resolved today while driving home that I was going to solve my problem. Will you wait three more months before you start proceedings?"
"B-F-D Kathleen! What will you do that you haven't already done - more therapy? More mood and mind control drugs? Want to go back to the church? Just what do you have in mind?"
Blowing her nose profusely she said, "Our marriage and our children have gone to hell because I haven't been part of this family team for for 12 years. That is what will change if you will give us a chance. I wanted to tell you before but I didn't want to hurt you by telling you explicit details, the essentials of which you have already figured out."
R.D. held up his hand, "I don't want or need to know the details - its written all over your face and in everything you do with the children and me. Your relations with others are your problems - you have created them and only you can solve them. You can not share them with me because I can not tell you how to fix yourself. So, again please spare me the details, Kathleen! I have problems of my own. I can not solve them in a dysfunctional family but I could if you were no longer my baggage. That is one reason why a divorce would help me a lot. Another is that I think it would help the kids as well. And finally, it would also be the better choice for you, Kathleen, because you would be free to openly pursue whatever you dream of at any given moment."
For one fleeting moment Kathleen took her mind off her troubles and became aware for the first time in their 20 years of marriage that her husband had his own problems. She ask, "What are your problems, R.D.? Maybe we could help each other?"
He dismissed her question as naive, chuckled and said, "I am not going to answer that. I will just say that I want more than you are capable of giving, Kathleen. Just what can you do to help me? For that matter, what can you do to help yourself that you haven't already done since the kids were beginning school?"
"R.D., I am not going to once again tell you what I am going to do. I have done that before more than once but never have followed through. But if you will postpone the divorce proceedings until the next quarter, I will have shown you. Please, give me one last chance to become Human."
With a look of complete contempt on his face he said, "O.K., lets finish this conversation in three months. I do want to say, Kathleen, that I am not blaming you for my predicament as I allowed you to put me here. I once blindly loved you so much while I kept hoping for a miracle that you would change. We should have gotten a divorce when Randy started primary school, waiting another three more months will not make that much difference."
