Authors Foreword: Thanks for the private constructive feedback. This LW submission depicts two winners and a looser. Note that the sex is not hot. Please Enjoy.
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Laura Abbott - Lar- was a moderately successful writer of formula gunfighter westerns and adult romances under two separate pen names. Her royalties from self published eBook publishers plus two traditional publishers paid the rent and allowed her to eek out a living doing what she liked. The forty something lady was fiercely independent, though she currently dated two separate gentlemen who could show her a reasonably good time after they took their blue pills. Her two children, by two separate fathers, were on their own but had little to do with their mother - the son once told her, "Mother, I don't like whores," while the daughter was closer and did visit bringing her granddaughter over from time to time. She couldn't recall the face of either ex-husband but cherished the few times a year that her children visited, while the visiting son, especially, was always on his way to somewhere else.
In the warm months in Coastal Mass, Lar did her best creative work at a coffee shop table on a boardwalk that surrounded a Marina. There were dozens of colorful yachts tied up and bobbing on the Atlantic waves because boat owners had worked very hard all their life and now chose to spend their discretionary income on boats. All day, but especially mornings and evenings, the boaters walked past her work table on the boardwalk going to and from their crafts. The fit, svelte woman did not like boats - but she did like the colorful surroundings - and turned down several 'lets-get-it-on' yacht cruise offers over the years - "No thank you, I might get wet!" was her common response. The Boston skyline could be seen in the distance and mostly there were only a few boardwalk exercisers walking daily nearby. So it was quiet except for when the boaters roared into the bay leaving the Marina.
On most warm Saturdays many boaters came and went but one set of repeat visitors captured Lar's attention because she saw a possible plot for her next Adult Romance book. Two - and some times three - Black athletic type guys accompanying an Irish couple with a pre-school child in hand, walked into the coffee shop seating area on the boardwalk. The child captured her attention because obviously he was fathered by a Black man, but the child held the hand of the Irish Dad with a death grip. The three or four people would sit at a table and then one guy would then go in to buy beer and food while another went into the fractional-share owners club next door to sign for a yacht. The Irish couple and their child often sat alone at a table near Lar, waiting for the guys to get ready to cruise. When the preparations were complete, the lady would stand and attempt to kiss the young boy goodbye, but he fought her while he hung on to his Irish Dad tenaciously. Lar presumed he was the woman's husband or ex-husband. The two or three black men and the Irish mother left the coffee shop area and walked down the boardwalk to a catwalk gate to where the moored yachts were tied up. The child was immediately at peace and got a digital toy out of his day-bag and began to play while the father read his Kindle. In time the Irish Dad would take the youngster around the boardwalk for exercise and to break the monotony (Child visitation by divorced Dad's on the various Marinas are a very common sight during the warm months.)
The time interval from the boaters shoving off to tying back up was usually 3 to four hours. The players would then return to the coffee shop area after their cruise and fetch the child and the group - minus the Irish Husband - would shuffle off towards the parking lot - while the Dad might stay and read for awhile. Lar said to herself excitedly after the second cruise Saturday, "Ahh my next book!" after the roar of the engine died down on this particular Saturday.
After more Saturday cruises, the child became comfortable around Lar and would come over and sit on her lap and ask questions and generally talk to her, because he obviously was bored. His Dad sat reading. One day Lar introduced herself to the Husband and pre-schooler while the partiers were at sea and they were the only customers in the coffee shop's seating area. He shook her hand and said, "My name is Greg McAllen and this youngster is my ex-wife and my son, Jason. Glad to meet you." After Lar explained what she was doing here, Greg said, "Jason's Mom and I have been either separated or divorced for almost two years. My visitation is on Saturdays and when her dates are taking her out for a cruise, she leaves the child with me. I meet them in the parking lot here so making the tedious round trip into Boston to visit Jason is not necessary."
Lar took a close look at the now laughing child and noted his hair and facial features and was now certain that a Black person was his sperm-donor. He appeared to be a precocious and well-adjusted child when the Mom and her dates were not around. She also noticed that the nominal father was out of shape with a slightly bulging mid section and slumped shoulders. Worse, his sadness was permanently glued onto his face. She presumed that Greg always ached for an adult to talk to about anything so he leaped at the opportunity to talk extensively with Lar in between bouts of entertaining his son whenever she took a break from her writing.
My story starts after the two wordsmiths, Lar and Greg, got to know and like each other well and chatted freely about anything on their respective minds. One beautiful Saturday, the partiers were at sea. Lar had just returned to her table with a sandwich and a drink right behind Greg with his and his son's lunch. She asked the Dad "Why don't you and Jason join me at my table so we can chat? I am stopping for a 45-minute lunch break." Once they were seated Lar ask, "Why not tell me about yourself, Greg, since I have already told you all the essential things about me?"
The Dad's thinking was that this writer has obviously done it all and heard it all so nothing he said would shock her. He replied, "Well, I am both a technical writer and an illustrator - I have won some awards in both disciplines. I work for a medium size medical electronics design and manufacturing company and am responsible for all their public and internal documentation. My day starts early when I jump on the commuter ferry and change to the subway in Boston to get to my office in Cambridge. The day ends and I retrace my steps to my medium rise condominium two miles from here and look out over the bay from my 5th-floor balcony. I joined my company when it was a struggling start up and missed some paychecks in the very early days. But things are stable now, and hopefully I will hit the jackpot after we launch our IPO - the healthcare boondoggle is already raining money on us, so I have my hopes of earning some big bucks after working so long and hard often into late night."
Lar replied, "Thank you, Greg. So may I fill in the blanks about your personal life and you correct me if I am wrong: You spent long hours away from your wife and secretly she cuckolded you. She later became pregnant with this secret lover - or lovers. You became aware of this after the child was born. Is that right so far?"
Shocked that this woman had read him quickly, he said, "Yes. Precisely. I was torn between divorcing her for cuckolding me and forgiving her. I still love her so much until she is my last thought nightly - even now some times - and she repeatedly told me at first that she loves only me and that her affair was just, 'sex' and she accidentally became pregnant."
Lar asked, "So, what happened then?"
"I forgave her because she promised in front of her ailing mother and me that she would not play around any more. For going on two years we had what I thought was a normal marriage until in time I would sometimes walk into our house to find that she had paid no attention to the child - or hadn't even picked him up from daycare - and played music that was unlike what we both enjoyed in College or what we played when we were both at home. Worse, she became cold and indifferent to me. Then I admitted to myself that she is now a different person, and doesn't love me at all and is cuckolding me again."
Lar said, while thinking about a plot for her next adult romance writing project, she said, "Being an erudite person you figured this out long before Jason's birth, however. But your passion for her overruled any rational thought about her conduct for two years."
He replied, "Wow! Again, you are exactly right. But, Lar, I reasoned that my unrequited love counted for something - sadly I learned in time that it doesn't. But one night we started making out and she soon was sitting naked on my face. She had refused my advances for the past 10 days. I said, "Darling, I want to make love to you just like the old days, please give me some relief!"
She then said, 'Greg, I want to give you all the passion you can stand. It's just that I want to introduce you to a friend of mine and I have invited him to dinner Thursday evening. In fact, he travels to all our bank branches in this area and we both will be here when you arrive. If you agree we can be very intimate again?'"
Lar shook her head and thought, "This poor creature," and said to him, "Let me guess, Greg. You were so horny until you agreed. So, tell me about the aftermath of your agreeing, if you would?"
Greg suddenly asked, "Are you going to make me a character in your next Adult Romance book?"
"Yes, but I won't use your name and the setting will be in California."
Relieved he said, "O.K. Yes. The moment I agreed she became red hot and we screwed most of the remaining week, and slept a short while each night and did it again after the alarm sounded in the morning. For a few days life was good.
"So Thursday afternoon I picked up Jason from daycare and went home. A tall Black man and my wife, Penny, met us at the door. She said, 'Greg, I would like for you to meet Butch, who was the sperm donor of Jason, and a supervisory bank examiner in charge of this part of the South shore. Butch, meet my wonderful husband, Greg.' Butch is the one who signs for the yacht each time they now go to sea. He was wearing my monogrammed robe that was way too short for him and she was wearing her robe that matched mine. As Penny visited a moment with her son, Butch and I uncomfortably chatted. Later she said, 'Greg, would you be a darling and feed and bath Jason, then cook our dinner - I took the items for dinner out of the freezer this morning - and we will join you shortly.' They disappeared into our bedroom and closed the door. I was trapped because she well knew that I craved her so much I would do exactly what she told me to do. Later we three sat at the dinner table when Justin started acting up and needing attention. She barked at me, 'Take care of your son, Greg!' When I got back to the table, they continued their conversation as if I were not present. Soon Butch showered and left."
Lar said, "I am afraid to predict, so what happened then, Greg?"
The distraught man said, "Butch became a one or two time per week regular visitor for the next month and the same pattern was repeated. Then the first Thursday of the following month, Butch had showered and was naked, getting ready to put on his clothes to leave, I guess. Penny called out loudly, "Greg, will you come here?"
"I opened our bedroom door and went into our brightly lighted bedroom. She was holding Butch's very large and limp cock smiling at me and said, 'Butch needs to stay over certain weekday nights with us when he is working in or near our town on a two day stint. Otherwise, I don't get this fantastic treat.' She squeezed his gigantic limp member which was twice larger than the width of her hand, and giggling, she continued, 'I know this is asking a lot, Darling, but it's important. If he camps out here then driving all the way back to his home in Boston and returning to work in our area in the morning is not necessary."
