Nancy

Not a lot of sex in this story, all of it is between individuals of legal age in the state in which it takes place.

*****

"Jim, let's stop at the diner in - HOLY SHIT!"

Hank's scream came over the CB just milliseconds after the largest bolt of lightning I've ever seen crossed the road and struck a disabled horse trailer on the opposite side of the divided highway. The flash nearly blinded me and I'd have to check my shorts at the next stop.

If my mom had been in the cab of my truck with me, she would have made the sign of the cross and said a prayer to St. Jude for any of the horses, people or other critters in that horse trailer. I just let out a long whistle and kept moving at sixty-five miles per hour.

I was hauling an oversized load through the Cascades, a long bed of rotors for a wind farm. Don't ask me about the pros and cons related to sticking a big fan on top of a mountain, I understand both sides have their arguments, but I just deliver the load and collect my pay, same as whatever cargo is on the trailer behind my cab.

Hank, the lead driver - you've seen these guys, they're usually in some compact car with a rotating light and a big "oversize" sign on the top - well, Hank had to take a leak and grab another cup of coffee (he still hasn't figured out the connection). There's a little café with truck parking just ten miles east of Vantage and that's where Hank finally got off the highway. I decided I needed a bite to eat, it took four hours to get out of the dock in Tacoma and through the west side traffic so I was hungry. I parked the rig and walked into the door.

You couldn't miss her, she was the prettiest lady in the room. OK, that's not saying much because there was only one other woman in the café and she weighed at least a couple hundred pounds wearing a tavern jacket - very classy. I took a seat at the counter and watched the waitress as she finished taking an order from the booth of roughnecks in the corner. The old Ronnie Milsap song popped into my head, "That Girl that Waits on Tables (Used to Wait for Me at Home)".

I kept my eye on this beauty as she put the order on the spindle for the cook and turned to take my order. The look in her eyes when she recognized me was hard to read; was it shock, humor, irritation, or a combination of all three?

"Well Jim - Of all the gin joints in all the world."

Damn, how could she remember? It was one of Bogie's famous lines from "Casablanca", Humphrey Bogart can't believe his former lover walked into his bar in Morocco with another man. I took Nancy to see Casablanca at an art house theatre when we were married.

"What brings you in here?"

"Coffee and a Denver omelet, Nancy."

"Coming right up." She turned and put the order on the spindle.

Just then Hank came out of the bathroom. He stared at Nancy for a second and sat next to me.

"Isn't that her?"

"Isn't it who? How would you know? You never met her."

"I saw the photos on your visor when I gave you the logbook. Hard to miss a looker like that. Who is she?"

"My ex. And the biggest mistake of my life."

The mistake wasn't marrying that sweet lady, the mistake was letting her go. To help you understand how my love life turned to crap, why I was still mooning over and carrying photos of a woman who left me five years ago, I need to go back a long time ago, back to high school. That's where my life started to go off the rails for the first time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jocelyn Murphy had the prettiest face and cutest smile of any girl in school. She carried an extra twenty pounds or so, but at least five of those extra pounds were located in each one of her breasts. It was the beginning of our senior year when I worked up the courage to ask Jocelyn out. We hit it off and for the rest of the school year we were inseparable. Jocelyn took my virginity sometime around Thanksgiving; I'm certain she lost hers much earlier, but I never asked for specifics.

Given the set of circumstances, very hot girl, mildly good looking guy, I figured I hit the jackpot and ended up one of those guys we all called 'pussy-whipped'. Was I ever. But I was a eighteen year-old guy getting regular pussy and my hands on those bodacious ta-ta's, so what did I care?

At the same time, one of my teammates, Spencer Crasser, was the least whipped guy I knew or have ever known. Spencer was a decent athlete, he was a starter on the football and basketball teams, but not a star. He also didn't appear physically impressive (not to me anyway, but I'm straight as an arrow), maybe five-nine and a hundred-sixty pounds, but this guy was dating the hottest girl in school. Not only was Spencer dating Debbie Drake, but he treated her like shit. He didn't beat her or anything, but the emotional abuse was disgusting.

For example, there was a story told that one night Spencer is driving Debbie and two other guys home from a party. The two guys are in the back seat and Debbie is sitting next to Spencer up front. Spencer pulls over.

"Debbie, suck my cock."

"Spence, not now, please. Not with Dave and Tom in the car."

"Debbie, if you're not going to suck my cock, get out."

The two of them argued like that for another minute before Dave and Tom heard the sound of a zipper and Debbie's head disappeared from view. Spencer drove until they stopped in front of Dave's house to let the guys out; as they leaned in the front window to thank Spencer for the ride, Debbie was still bent over Spencer's lap, bobbing up and down.

Neither Tom nor Dave kept quiet about the blow job. I was disgusted by the incident and lost any remaining respect for Debbie that I had, but since I didn't hang with that group, it had little effect on my life. I just made damn certain to continue treating Jocelyn with respect.

We both graduated in June. I was enrolled in a diesel technology school come fall and worked at a lube depot. Jocelyn's grades weren't good enough to get her into any four year college, she was working in a dress shop at the mall. We continued to date exclusively, make love and plan our future together. Then everything went to hell.

Jocelyn's folks, through some contacts of her father's, finagled a probationary acceptance for Jocelyn at the state college down south; three hundred miles away. Did her folks do this because they wanted her to get an education or to get her away from the grease monkey? I never found out. Jocelyn left in January for the spring semester.

For the next five months I stayed true to Jocelyn. I wrote her letters, called every couple days and went down to visit her twice. We made love the first visit, but something was off. There wasn't the same intensity in her response to my efforts. We laid on her bed after the first time making love since January.

"Did you cum?"

"No, but I don't always cum when we make love. And it probably will take us a while to get back in synch after being away from each other for so long. Don't overreact Jim. Let's just go to sleep."

The next evening, after a decent day hanging out together, I redoubled my efforts. I spent a half hour tweaking her nipples and teasing her clit with my tongue. My cock was as hard as a steel rod and I needed relief, but I held out until Jocelyn had at least three orgasms. Only then did I move up, put a condom on, and entered her. Twenty minutes later we fell asleep in each other's arms. I left the next morning feeling confident.

I drove down five weeks later, but unfortunately, she claimed her 'monthly friend' (her period, I assumed) was visiting, so a few kisses and a quick feel were all I got before I left on Sunday afternoon. Jocelyn didn't make it home for spring break, she said she was too busy studying.

Jocelyn kept me on the ropes. Her infrequent letters always ended with "Love, Jocelyn" and she never got off the phone without telling me she loved me. Jocelyn was due home for Memorial Day weekend; school was over and Jocelyn failed her probation. I was ready to greet her back home; I had the ring she had picked out the previous Christmas in my pocket. I called her up and asked if I could come over the first day she was home.

"Yea, come over Jim; we need to talk."

I was such a naïve puppy back then. "Damn right we do." I thought to myself as I got into my pickup truck and headed over to her house with a smile on my face.

There was an older guy talking to her parents when she opened the door. Jocelyn stepped out of the house and closed the door behind her. I tried to kiss her and she turned her head enough that we did one if those French air kisses on the cheeks. I was shocked, the damn ring box fell out of my hand and hit the pavement as she pulled away. I quickly picked it up, but not before she saw it.

"Jim, I'm pregnant."

My first thought was, "Did the condom fail?"

My second thought was, "When was the last time we were together?"

What came out of my mouth was, "How far along are you?"

"Two months."

Well, that answered all three of my questions, but I thought of another.

"With the guy inside?"

Jocelyn at least had the decency to cry a couple tears when she answered. "I'm so sorry Jim."

"Me, too. Good luck Jocelyn. I sure hope he treats you as well as I did and would have."

I didn't mean it, I knew no one would treat her as well as I did and some day in the future my words would come to haunt her. Guess I'm not always the nice guy. She married and moved back south with the guy; turns out he was her university assigned tutor. I never saw Jocelyn after that day, but mutual friends let me know she ballooned up during her second and third trimesters and kept on gaining weight after giving birth. Within three years they were divorced and Jocelyn moved back home with her folks, all two hundred plus pounds. Looking back on how things turned out, I can't help but hum the Garth Brooks song, "Unanswered Prayers" in which Garth sings about seeing his old flame and realizing he dodged a bullet.

A little over a year later, on my twenty-first birthday, my friends took me out to celebrate my official passage into adulthood; and what better way to prove you're an adult than getting smashed on boilermakers and spending an hour on your knees praying to the porcelain god. I did stay conscious enough to meet Cecilia and get laid that night. I can't tell you what happened, but whatever happened must have satisfied Cecilia because she was still in my bed the next morning; either that or she was too drunk to leave.

Cecilia never did leave and within a week she was moving all her worldly belongings, which consisted of one box and two suitcases, into my apartment. What was it about Cecilia that made me lose all perspective and any logical thoughts? Sex, of course. The woman could fuck your eyeballs out. There was nothing she wouldn't do; bondage, anal, oral (never oral after anal though, some lines, like child porn, should never be crossed); you name it, most anything two people could do, we did it. And Cecilia had the body and face to melt your heart; I was totally smitten and totally out of my league.

I started to lose some friends and my relationship with my mother really took a hit during the two years Cecilia and I were together. I defended her to anyone who even hinted we were moving too fast or that I should pay attention to her past. I was in love, damn it, and nobody could tell me different. We were married within the year.

The sex never stopped and I repaid Cecilia by treating her like a queen. She didn't have to work as long as dinner was ready when I came home from work, although half the time dinner was take-out or pizza delivery. The house wasn't exactly a pit, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. What did Cecilia do while I was gone all day at work? Television, reading magazines about celebrities, working out at the gym, and most likely one other activity that took months for me to discover. All but the last activity could have been forgiven, especially since at least two days a week I came home to find Cecilia naked; she'd get down on her knees, lower my zipper, pull my now hard cock out of my boxers, and proceed to swallow me down to the pubes. She wouldn't stop until I came down her throat, she'd look up at me with a big smile, open her mouth to show me my seed, then swallow like it was the nectar of the gods. After dinner, she'd keep it up, fucking me until I'd beg for mercy.

Cecilia surprised the shit out of me one night while we were getting it on; I was doing her doggy style when she reaches into her nightstand and pulls out a six-inch dildo along with a tube of lube. She lubes up the fake cock, hands it to me and hisses, "Stick it in my ass!"

"Want me to pull out first?"

"No, stay where you're at, stick this in my ass. I want to feel filled up."

I did what I was told. As I pressed the head of it past her sphincter she let out a groan. She came with it fully embedded in her rear. That was the first of many orgasms during the night.

A week later Cecilia threw me a new curve ball. I was sitting on her side of the bed, Cecilia was in my lap pumping up and down on my hard-on. Cecilia reaches into her nightstand and pulls out a thick, nine-inch dildo. My first thought was I'd have to check out that nightstand someday, my second thought was how the hell is she going to fit this thing up her butt?

Instead, Cecilia pops off my cock, lubes me up, turns around and slips it right up her backdoor. I'd been there before and it usually felt pretty tight, but this time my cock dove right to the hilt. Cecilia leaned back on my chest, I look over her shoulder to watch. She rubs the dildo's head back and forth on her labia, it was glistening from the moisture, the head was the size if a small orange and looked obscene when it crossed the lips on its path up her vagina.

I fell backwards and couldn't see after that, but it felt incredible. And the sounds coming from Cecilia were nothing like I heard before. Before long I was shooting off, but my cock stayed hard and didn't fall out. The friction of that huge dildo teased the most sensitive part of my cock and before I knew it, I was rock hard once again.

Cecilia must have had a dozen orgasms in the next half hour. Sweat was pouring down my chest onto my stomach and over my cock, keeping it nice and slick. We took turns as to who would do the most work because nobody but a marathon runner could have kept it going that long. I finally let loose with my second load, this time I wilted like a spent prune and plopped out.

I walked into the bathroom to shower and draw a hot bath for Cecilia; I knew she'd need it. As she lounged in the tub, I sat on the toilet watching this woman, wondering what she'd come up with next.

Within another week she started to drop hints. "Have you ever considered swapping with another couple?"

I didn't take the hints, so after another few days she became more blatant.

"What are your fantasies, Jim? Have you ever thought about making it with two women? Does the thought of sharing me with another man ever turn you on?"

I told Cecilia none of these appealed to me; she was my fantasy and I was, to paraphrase Maslow, completely self-actualized.

Cecilia responded by withholding sex for days and even weeks at a time. I responded by bringing home flowers, taking her out more often and buying her lingerie or sexy outfits. Cecilia responded by having more 'girls' nights out', I responded by during more around the house to prevent us from living in a pig sty.

Instead of going home to an empty apartment one night while Cecilia was having a 'night out' I went to my mother's.

"She's screwing around on you, Jim!"

"I don't know that, Mom. We're just going through a rough patch now and she says she needs time with her friends."

"Get your head out of your ass, son" My mother never talked to me this way and I was shocked.

Mom got up from her chair, grabbed the phone book and made a phone call. I could only hear my mom's side of the conversation.

"Is Fred Thompson there? Can I talk to him?" A short pause then, "Fred, this is Helen; is Cecilia there? Yea, and is she behaving the same way as last time? OK, I'm heading over there with Jim, we'll be outside."

As we drove to the Lucky Seven bar across town Mom filled me in.

"Your Uncle Fred has seen Cecilia twice at the bar where he hangs out. She must not remember meeting him at your wedding. He told me she dances with almost any guy who asks and he's seen her go outside more than once with some of the guys."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you made it very clear I was to butt out. I was hoping you'd figure it out on your own without me being the bearer of bad news. Tonight, you gave me no choice. I can't stand seeing my boy hurting. This is going to hurt, but maybe you'll be OK in the long run. You got over that bitch Jocelyn, you'll get over Cecilia."

Mom made it sound like this was the end of my marriage, I wasn't so certain. Could I get over Cecilia dancing and maybe kissing another man? I'd have to see to know. We parked in the lot across the street and waited; it didn't take that long. Within a half hour Cecilia came out of the bar with two men. In the back of my mind I was hoping it was only to get some fresh air or maybe get a smoke.

No such luck; the three of them walked to a large SUV and Cecilia climbed in the back seat with one of the men while the second stood outside and lit a cigarette. It was a clear night and the bar's parking lot was lit up. Mom's eyes were on me when Cecilia's head disappeared from our view. Ten minutes later her head popped back up and the second guy climbed into the back seat. The first guy just moved over.

Even a simpleton such as myself knew what was happening then, but Mom and I walked across the street to confirm it. Looking through the window I could see Cecilia's dress top down and her breasts jiggled as she bounced up and down on the second guy's cock. She was wearing the red dress I bought her for our first anniversary. The guy's mouth was trying to catch one of her tits and succeeded every couple of bounces. Cecilia's right hand was playing with the first guy's cock - getting it ready for a second coming? Who knew, who cared?

Mom came prepared and kept her wits while I just stared; she brought out her camera and took a couple shots of my wife in all her glory. Just then the first guy saw us outside the window and yelled, "What the fuck?" Cecilia opened her eyes and looked out, then opened her mouth to scream, "Jim, Jim, wait."

Mom was pulling me back to our car. As I pulled out of the lot I saw Cecilia hopping out of the SUV; her top was back in place, but the bottom of the dress was still bunched up around her waist and she was naked from her waist down. My headlights lit up her shaved crotch, it would be the last time seeing what I thought was my personal playground.

Uncle Fred gave me the name of a great divorce attorney, she came with a very high recommendation because she had represented my uncle's first wife and he got reamed. The attorney took my case after viewing the photos Mom took; I think her exact words were, "The skank!"

There wasn't much in assets to split and the judge agreed with my attorney that Cecilia was employable, so I only had to pay alimony for the three months before the divorce became final. After the judge's ruling, Cecilia stopped me outside the courtroom and tried to get me to change my mind.

"Jim, isn't there something I can say or do to make you change your mind?"

I tried to take the high road; happy my mother and Uncle Fred were providing me with backbone when necessary. Their voices were in my head when I answered Cecilia quietly to avoid others in the hallway from hearing our private affairs.

"Not a thing Cee, I could never kiss those lips without thinking of how they were wrapped around that asshole's cock. And the merest thought of going near your whoring cunt makes me want to puke."