Pictures Never Lie A Love Story Pt 02

Now that I have talked nerdy to you, we can get down to the betrayal and sex part, which is probably why you are reading this anyhow. The question posed here is, "where do you draw the line?" Is intentional deception leading to sex a rape, even if the victim is all-in at the end? And if so, is giving in to carefully planned deceit forgivable? Or should we just, as is the case with a lot of the stories on this site, kill the bitch? That answer is up to you but there is a lot more of this story to tell. I will drop the other parts over the next couple of weeks. Thanks for reading me and I enjoy your messages.

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I was teaching third grade at the local elementary school when I met Tom. I have always been interested in helping others and I love kids. So it was probably inevitable that I would end-up as a teacher.

It was lucky that I met him at that particular time in my life because he was the right guy and I was definitely ready.

My body developed early and by the time I was fourteen I looked like I was twenty-five, with breasts bigger than most adult women. Of course putting somebody with the emotional maturity of a child into a smoking hot woman's body is a recipe for disaster. And there were a lot of times growing up when I regretted how I looked.

But I managed to survive the packs of horny teenagers and dirty old men, albeit narrowly, to mature into a woman who had danced around the usual pitfalls of looking like I did.

I had some bumps and bruises and a couple of broken hearts but I now understood that men were a species you couldn't trust; especially when it came to the things they told you as they were unsnapping your bra.

I had been living the single professional girl life for three years and I had finally come to the realization that there was a lot more fulfilling existence out there than the one that I was presently involved in, which amounted to getting picked up at local clubs for casual sex.

Love at first sight is such a sad pathetic cliché but that is exactly the way it happened for us. I wasn't actually husband hunting. But the minute I saw Tom I knew I that I was destined to be his. It was probably some complex mix of past experiences, acquired attitudes and body chemistry, but the minute I saw him I just knew that he and I would grow old together.

He was at our school to talk to the students about what he did for a living, which was internet security. We connected from across the room.

I liked his looks of course. He was tall and slim and had mischievous blue eyes, which seemed to sparkle with intelligence. But it was the confident way he held himself, his graceful easy manner and the goofy lopsided grin that he gave me when we locked eyes that made my heart thump and my panties get very damp.

I sidled over to him after his presentation and stood silently next to him, while keeping a close eye on the unruly little ruffians who were under my supervision. He looked directly at me for a long time, like he was deciding something, and said. Let's have dinner tonight.

That was all it took. We had a short courtship over dinner. That culminated with me falling into bed with him at the end of the evening.

I hadn't exactly fucked around. But by that stage in my life I had plenty of experience with men. And I had expected Tom to be just like the rest.

The best of them spend a little time trying to ensure my satisfaction, the worst of them just rutted and hopped off. Tom, on the other hand, totally blew my mind.

Part of it was my total attraction to him, he was sweet, kind, funny, smart and an already well-established professional man.

The eight years difference in our ages was what a woman like me requires, since all of the men my age acted like glorified frat boys.

Tom took his time when we first made love. He assiduously explored my body to identify all of the hot buttons. Then he proceeded to push every one of them in the exact order that is required to turn me into a crazy woman.

We fucked, I blew him for round two, we fucked some more, I worked him over again, he did me doggy style, which unbelievably was a new experience for me, all the other men before him were way too eager.

We took a shower and I sat on top of him and shrieked my orgasm for the entire world to hear. Then the sun came up.

I don't throw the term love slave, around lightly but that more-or-less summed it up.

I was coy. I waited an entire week before I moved in with him. We lived like that for six months. The sex was exquisite, the conversation and the companionship even more so.

He proposed on one knee in Central Park on a beautiful fall day. I cried. We were married in St. Pats three months later.

Our life together was perfect except for one small problem. I couldn't have children.

I didn't find that out until six years after we were married. But we finally saw the doctor after a fruitless year of trying to get me pregnant and discovered that it just wasn't going to happen.

I wept for a solid month because I love kids. But Tom was as kind, gentle, and understanding as a man could possibly be during that period, and I loved him even more for his tenderness in that awful situation.

Plus, I still had a new crop of bright young faces to nurture every fall. And our love just kept getting stronger and stronger.

Even in my early forties we were still having sex like young married people. We experimented with the positions that interested both of us and we continued to grow closer.

Somehow the term - love - just doesn't describe my feelings for him. It was more a total connection, husband and wife and I was proud to be his and his alone.

His business grew all the time I am describing, and his company had many employees. But there was one guy who Tom took a special liking to.

I could see the reason why as soon as I met him. He was a couple of years younger than me, tall and with a devilishly handsome Irish face, which always had a hint of larceny in it.

Murphy was smart and he was the sort of devil-may-care kind of guy who other men instinctively bonded with. That was because he had all the charm of the Irish people in his soul.

He was quick with a song and seemed to know how to do every dance ever invented. He was literate. He could cite whole passages from Yeats and Wilde and Joyce, and Behan.

More importantly he was almost in Tom's class as an internet genius, so he could give Tom a helping hand when he needed it.

Murph was Tom's protégé. Accordingly, he was around our house all of the time, so much so that I would usually forget that he was there.

One day I was working around the pool deck, scrubbing the weatherproof cushions of the chairs. I was wearing something I would never have worn in public.

It was hot so I had on a thin t-shirt, no bra and a pair of very short nylon running shorts.

I could feel my big breasts swaying as I worked and their moving back and forth had stimulated my nipples until they were at full mast. It looked like I was pointing two little fingers in front of me.

He must have been watching me for a while. But the first hint I had that he was even there was when I heard somebody right behind me say with laughter in his voice, "Now that's a sight isn't it."

I shrieked and almost fell in the pool.

He reached out to steady me.

I turned and there was Murph with a grin that could only be described as shit-eating.

I said, "You nearly frightened me to death!"

He said apologetically, "Didn't mean to. I just wanted to know if Tom was home."

I said with a "duh" in my voice, "Is his car in the driveway?"

He said, "No."

I said, "Then he isn't home yet. Do you want to grab a beer and wait for him?"

He said that he would love to. I continued to scrub and he continued to sit by the side of the pool and drink a beer and watch me.

I would have been incredibly self-conscious with any other man. But this was Murph, Tom's friend and he was like a brother to me. My soul was devoted to Tom and he knew it.

I had no feelings for Murph whatsoever. So it didn't occur to me that I was showing anything off to him that way. I know all men are hounds but Murph had never shown the slightest hint of sexual interest in me.

Some of you might think that all my protective instincts had disappeared over the years. But a woman who looks like me never turns off the sensors. And I could tell that Murph was checking me out in a way that let me know that I hadn't lost it entirely.

Tom walked into the back yard at that point with a cold beer in his hand and a leer for me, which was gratifying. He dropped into the chair next to Murph.

They go to an annual conference and they were making arrangements for where and when to meet the next day. We barbecued and sat around the pool until sunset and then Murph left.

I normally go with Tom to these events. But they just happened to schedule this conference on the week that I do the end of the year parent-teacher evaluations and so there was no way I could go.

We sat together by the pool in the dark and just held hands and talked for a while and then we made our way up to the bedroom.

I was feeling a little insecure. I get that way whenever he leaves me alone for any period of time.

So the minute we got in the darkened room I threw my arms around his neck, squashed my big tits against his chest and kissed him with an open mouthed ardor that I hoped would communicate how much I would miss him and what he could expect when he came back to me.

Our tongues dueled for a little while and then he carried me to the bed, laid me down on top of the coverlet and proceeded to pound me into oblivion.

I must have come four times before it felt like a water balloon full of hot lava exploded inside my lower belly.

I lay there with my mind in 6,000 pieces and my pussy dripping on our bedspread trying to get my breathing under control.

He was lying next to me in the same state.

I turned to him and said, "Please don't ever let this end." He laughed and said something about flying pigs.

I took him to JFK the following morning. He could have flown out earlier but we wanted to spend a little time messing around before he left.

I gave him the most extensive and loving blow-job I could muster as a going away present and then licked him clean, like a mother kitty.

If you could see what I look like you would probably not understand how anybody like me could be so insecure about her husband.

It is a matter of way too much investment. I have so much of myself dedicated to the guy that the thought of losing him to anything, plane crash, heart attack, or another woman, is absolutely terrifying to me.

He called me every night and we talked. I was hoping he was interested in a little phone sex. I even mentioned on the Wednesday night call that I was naked in bed and that kitty was hungry. But he was all business, which somehow bothered me.

Then on Thursday my world ended.

I came home from my last parent-teacher conference to find a message in my in-box. The header said, "I'm Sorry." The message said, "I had to tell you." The sender was anonymous.

There was an attachment. I opened the attachment and there were two pictures.

One was of Tom standing in front of a room at what I presumed was their hotel. He was looking in what I thought was an over-friendly way at a stunningly hot younger woman who was saying something to him.

The second picture was of him banging her. The look on his face indicated that he was enjoying it a lot.

I felt a wave of chills and the taste of bile in my throat and then I fainted. I woke up seconds later, lying on the floor in a pool of vomit. I clutched myself into a fetal position and started to cry and then wail.

It was like I had just downed 14 martinis. I couldn't stand up so I crawled on my hands and knees into the bedroom where I passed out on the bed.

When I came-to again the covers were soaked with my tears but at least I could function.

I pulled myself together enough to brush my teeth and splash a little water on my face. I had to talk to somebody.

I just couldn't believe that Tom would do this to me. The obvious person to ask was Murph. He was out there with Tom and he could reassure me that what I saw was some kind of illusion.

I dialed his cell and he answered after the first ring. It was almost like he expected me to call.

His voice radiated worry. I said, "Did you send those pictures?"

He said, "I'm sorry Janet but I couldn't stand it any longer. He does this every time we go to one of these conventions."

The sympathy and concern in his voice was palpable.

I wailed, "What am I going to do. My life is over!"

He said, "I'm coming home early. Can you pick me up at the airport? We can talk this through, I'll be there for you."

I told him that I would see him the next afternoon, which was the day before Tom would arrive back.

I called my sister Sarah as soon as I got off the phone with Murph and asked her if I could stay with her for a week. She has plenty of experience with a cheating spouse and so she "got it" right away. It was comforting to have a couple of people who cared.

I didn't sleep a second that night. The hurt and anxiety were tearing me up.

Tom called as usual. I was so upset that I almost hung up on him but I needed to create some space to think. And hanging up on him might have alerted him that I knew.

So I was civil if not loving. I told him he would have to make his own way home. In the state I was in, there was no way I wanted to be near that cheating bastard.

I was waiting for Murph the next day at JFK. I must have looked like I had come down with Ebola or something because he did a double take when he got in the car. He said compassionately, "This has been very rough on you. I'm sorry."

I collapsed on his shoulder crying wildly. It was lucky I had the car in park or I probably would have killed both of us right at the airport.

He held me while I cried. The crying was for such an inordinately long period that the airport cop rapped on the window and told us to move on.

Murphy held me gently throughout making sympathy noises.

I dropped him at his place and he invited me inside. He had a beautifully appointed condo near our house.

He let me sit on his sofa with him and cry while he held me silently and protectively.

I said plaintively, "What am I going to do?"

He said, "Let me show you everything that I've got. I think that will make up your mind."

He walked over to a laptop, plugged a memory stick in and brought up a series of the most disgusting pictures I had ever seen.

All of them involved Tom and some slut. By the time he was finished my anguish had turned to cold fury.

The betrayal was total. My marriage was over. I said, "Do you know the number of a good divorce attorney?"

He told me he did. He said that the guy was an old college chum of his. He even called him for me and got me an emergency appointment for the next day, Saturday morning.

Tom called again that night and got the same treatment. I needed to talk to the lawyer.

Murph said, "If you want to stay here, you can bunk in my other bedroom."

I told him that my sister was expecting me but that I would be back to pick him up the next morning to visit his friend.

My sister has been through what I was going through and she knew what to do. We talked, cried and drank enough wine to float a battleship.

Sarah said, "How do you know for sure? I never actually had the proof or I would have kicked his cheating ass out a long time ago."

I showed her the pictures on the memory stick that Murph had given me.

Murph had told me that he had taken them himself with his cell phone. He had even added with sympathy rather than humor, "They were so into it they forgot to close the drapes."

Nicely anesthetized I missed Tom's call that night.

The lawyer was enlightening. Murph sat in with me because he was the one who had taken the pictures. He explained how he had seen the two of them together and had guessed what was going to happen.

He said, "Jane Longworth is a well-known slut at these events and the minute I saw Tom lock-in on her I knew what was going to happen. He does this all of the time."

My anguish spiked, this was not the person I had given myself to so totally.

I started to cry even though I thought that I didn't have any tears left.

The lawyer pointed out that even though New York was a no-fault divorce State it allowed grounds for at-fault divorce if adultery could be proven by a third party.

He said that the only stipulation was that the cheated-on party could not, in effect, condone the actions of the adulterer by continuing to live with him.

I was devastated enough by what Tom had done to me that I was able to assure the lawyer with certainty that was not going to happen.

At that point I couldn't stand to be on the same planet with my treacherous spouse, let alone the same house. So I said, "Sarah will take me in."

Having gotten the living arrangements out of the way, I told him to draw up the papers on the basis of adultery.

I told him that I didn't care about the division of property, which would be substantial. All I wanted was out of the marriage as soon as possible.

The lawyer said, "Have you talked to your spouse about this yet?"

I said, "I can't stand to be near the cheating varmint let alone talk to him. So I have given myself a week to cool down and gather my courage."

He said, "Let me advise you to do that sooner than later."

I said, "It will be next weekend."

I had picked Murph up, so I dropped him off. Doing the driving was the least that I could do since he was so kind to me. When we got back to his place he invited me in. But I was still so shocked and numb I didn't want to even talk about it with him.

In seven days my life had gone from total happiness and love to one of stark desolation.

I went back to Sarah's and slept for the entire afternoon. Tom called again and I let it go to voicemail.

Murph called and asked me if he could buy me a little dinner. I wanted to do something, anything to get my mind off of how bad I felt so I said, "Sure."

I tried to fix myself up a little. I had been crying for three straight days and my face was a mess but a shower and a little makeup worked wonders.

Murph was scintillating all evening. I discovered that I was thinking less-and-less about Tom's treachery as Murph worked his magical Irish ways on me.

He dropped me at Sarah's. He said, "That was really fun Janet, do you want to go out on my boat tomorrow and get a little sun. It'll take your mind off things?"

I thought about the offer and sun and water sounded like a brilliant cure for the cheating husband blues, so I said maybe a little too eagerly, Sure, what time?"

He had a big sailboat with a galley and a cabin with a bed. I changed into a bikini in the cabin. I know that I have a killer body. I have known that for my entire adult life. But I was feeling seriously ugly thanks to Tom's other woman. She looked younger and a whole lot hotter.

So I chose the bikini that left very little to the imagination. I have huge breasts and a relatively tiny body. I am only 5 foot 2 and small boned. The one other part of me that is big like my boobs is my butt. It is all muscle but it looks like the stern of an aircraft carrier when I am backing toward a mirror. The thong bottom left the entire expanse uncovered.

I thought that Murph was going to fall overboard when I came out on the deck.

That was the response I needed. He sailed us around that entire day with me sitting on the front part of the boat drinking a Bloody Mary and sunning myself.