Talking with some clients after work a few night ago, someone asked about our marriages. When the give-and-take got around to me, I just said, "I lost my wife about 3 years ago."
That got the usual condolences, followed by the usual last question, "What did she die of?"
I briefly answered truthfully, saying, "I really don't know if she's alive or dead but I lost her to multiple big cock lust."
There was bug-eyed dead silence, and then—as usual—someone started the conversation up on a different topic.
- - - - - - -
Sitting alone in my empty home, the sound of the doorbell in the late afternoon was a surprise. Surely the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Seventh Day Adventist folks had gone home by now. I levered myself up from my recliner chair and went to answer the door.
Opening the door, I found a youngish woman standing at the threshold. Despite the events of the past three years, I was still male, so she received a quick look over, which revealed a female person of indeterminate age, as she could have been anywhere from early 20's of mid-30's. Jet dark hair, mid-length, done up in a simple pony-tail and hanging down to her shoulder-blades. Skin an olive complexion. Tall for a young woman.
She was dressed in a simple crop-top sleeveless blouse, buttoned tight under her boobs. Bare midriff. Denim shorts, fairly tight. Long legs. Tennies on her feet. A purse on a long strap, balanced on one hip. A lovely smile.
I sighed to myself, as I braced for the usual come-on story, asking for a hand-out or for the equally probable spate of Bible verses, to be followed by a plea to join her church—and tithe, of course.
Which didn't happen.
Instead, I heard a lovely woman's voice, as she said, "I'm Penny. I'm here to live and sex with you. I have a letter from your wife that says so."
Dead silence on my part, as I simultaneously imitated a fish out of water, gulping on air. At the same time, I sudden dealt with an increase in the earth's gravity, so I had to grab the door handle to stay upright, staggering under my increased weight.
This being the first and only time I'd heard about my wife in about 3 years, and never in a letter.
Penny took advantage of my momentary incapacity and simply walked by and past me, in through the kitchen and then into the living-room, where she sat down on one end of the long couch there. I was left to stagger along behind her.
She crossed her legs, patted the seating in the middle of the couch and said, "Do sit down, Mr. McCracken. You have to listen to me read your ex-wife's letter and I have to tell you a lot of detail about her time after she left you. Then I need eat something, as I know your char-cooked steaks are wonderful. After that, I need to take a shower, dry off, show you my naked body, hold up my boobs, pull on my nipples to get them hard, get into your bed, spread open my legs and have bareback sex with you, with lots of screaming and thrashing and orgasms. More sex and orgasms in the morning, too, followed by pancakes with maple syrup, juice and bacon."
I'm pretty eloquent at times like these, so I just gurgled out, "Huh?"
"Oh, yes," she added, "That's what the letter from your wife says will happen."
About this time, someone might wonder just who the hell is writing this stuff. I'm Casimir McCracken. Everybody calls me Cas. What can I say? Mom was Polish and Dad was Scottish. They met in Poland, fell in love, had sex, and she got pregnant. Dad was a petroleum engineer, so they emigrated to the USA and settled near Houston, Texas. They married when Mom was about 8 months along. Mom had three more daughters, then Dad got his 'snip'. I was the only boy.
When I was in college, Dad died in an oil platform accident. His company paid off well and so did his life insurance. Mom went to pieces, did some drinking, some drugs and quite a lot of random-guy fucking and then she drifted off into the sunset of early-onset dementia. I helped my sisters bury her about 6 years later.
The usual school, college, finding out I had a knack for petroleum control programming. I left home, and worked for Arco until they went under, then for a dozen smaller companies, servicing the programming for the many computers of the offshore oil platforms.
I'm in OK health, neither a couch potato nor a hunk. Smart enough. Self-employed and mostly working out off my own home office (half the garage) in Corsicana, Texas. I make enough money to support both of us.
Both? Oh, yeah, I was married to the former Miss Judi Hansen, but back then, she became Hansen-McCracken. Juli was a brilliantly black-haired woman. Not a trophy wife for a 'locker' but UI thought very attractive. A nice C-cup chest and long tanned waist. Others might say she was ion the chubby side, but I didn't care. She loved having sex with me and was a faithful wife, right up until her affair started. Her sex was loud, long and multiply orgasmic. She liked to parade around the house naked, teasing me to start having sex with her.
While Judi didn't have to work, she did, as a work-management organizer and workplace organizer.
For instance, one of her innovations was to take the desk of the old guy who acted as an unofficial 'gatekeeper' between sections of an office, and just turn his desk around to face the window. Suddenly, workflow increased 50% as he spent the remainder of his days until retirement staring out that window and daydreaming.
She did keep getting 'hit on' by her male co-workers when she flirted, but she kept brushing them off by pointing to her rings and staying faithful to me.
I thought.
The trouble started when Judi went off to a week-long training course in Dallas for her company. She stayed the entire week plus two extra days. She called me every night on her cell phone, and nothing seemed amiss, except that she didn't talk much, and seemed out of breath, which she excused by saying she'd just come from the exercise room or from doing her floor yoga exercises.
When she got home, she still seemed distracted. About 28 days after the conference, Judi had a bad bout of the flu, with vomiting and a fever, but everything seemed to clear up within a week.
Right after getting home from the conference, she said, she said she'd discovered a really severe vaginal infection and she insisted that I had to start using condoms until it cleared up. The trouble was, it didn't seem to respond to treatment, so I was screwing her through thin latex for a couple of months.
But, she started to give me more and more sex, but also started picking little fights and blaming me for small things. Not one to be stupid, I quickly figured out that my loving wife was having an affair, probably with someone she'd met at the training conference. The vaginal infection and the condom use were to keep me from feeling her lover's leavings inside her body. I decided to put up with it, not have a confrontation, thinking that it would burn itself out in a couple of months.
That didn't happen.
The last day I would ever see her started with a mid-day trip to Waco, to buy some booze that we couldn't get locally. Etched into my mind, she was wearing one of my favorite front-zip little black dresses and a pair of Come-Fuck-Me pumps, with close-net, thigh-high stockings. The dress was fully lined (I know, because I bought it for her last year), so I also knew she was braless and wore no panties underneath it. I hoped I'd bang her into next week, somewhere in Waco, overnight.
Driving west on US Route 84, out of Mexia, TX, just before we passed through Prairie Hill, Judi suddenly said, "Pull over and stop here."
Puzzled, I slowed and stopped. Judi unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. Through the open door, she said, "I'm so sorry, Cas, but I don't love you any more. I've got four young guys waiting on me. I've been fucking all four for the last couple of months. They're rich and they all have 10" cocks."
She turned and casually walked across the road to a white van that was parked just across from our car. The side door was pulled open and Judi stepped inside. The door closed, and the van accelerated back toward Mexia at high speed.
My shock lasted all of half a minute but that was all the people in the van needed. I did a mid-highway U-turn, and followed as fast as could go but I never got close enough again. I caught a glimpse of the license plate and got 3 of the numbers off it.
Within a few hundred yards, they abruptly turned off the Federal highway, went across a wood bridge, which collapsed into a deep ditch after them. This had been pre-planned, I realized later. Then they drove through a high steel gate, already open.
