I want to give special thanks to my editor, Alabasterthighs. Her assistance is greatly appreciated.
Chapter 6: Maria
The next six months were rather uneventful. "Uneventful" is a relative term, of course, and in this context it meant that I was continuing to have more and better sex than at any time in the past twenty years. Veronica conjured no new surprises for me in that time period, so I more or less settled into a routine. The young Cuban woman commanded the majority of my attention with our twice weekly meetings. Marisol was content with our every other Saturday morning dalliances, and that worked out fine for me, as well. I even managed to hook up with Keshia a few more times. Veronica's absence from those rendezvous must have had an effect on Keshia's behavior--the bombastic personality that dominated our first meeting was mostly absent. Instead, I met with a dark, dusky, sensual goddess with a sexual appetite as big as her six foot, three hundred pound frame. Somehow she left the aggressive, abrasive aspects of her personality at home--most of them, at least.
Unfortunately, I never saw Jaleesa again. Veronica must have meant what she said when she described sharing Jaleesa with me as a "special treat."
Oh well, I'll always have that memory.
The situation with Pam became somewhat problematic, however. Her sister came to visit for a week, but upon observing the state of Pam and Steve's marriage, she ended up staying an entire month. I enjoyed making love with Pam on Friday mornings, but I was OK with the prospect of taking a short break--even if it extended several weeks. Pam would not accept an interruption in our weekly trysts; she refused to accept her sister's presence as an impediment to our relationship.
"Steve's still fucking his whore," Pam answered when I broached the subject. "My sister's visit hasn't cut him off from his pussy. He reeks of it almost every night. Why should you and I be the only ones who get cut off?"
Of course, I didn't mention that I had other sources of pussy. She already knew that I was fucking other women, even if she chose to overlook that fact.
"So, what do you have in mind?" I asked. "Fucking me with your sister in the next room? Do you think you could get her to fix us toast and coffee while we screw?"
"Of course not--we can't take that risk. My sister would be horrified. She's actually a bit of a prude. It's kind of funny, actually--while we were growing up she was always the pretty one with the slender figure. Boys lined up to go out with her, and yet she never put out. If I had received that much attention when I was younger I probably never would have married so young. Instead, I married the first asshole who ever gave me any attention. Steve was the only man I ever slept with, before you."
"I didn't know that."
"It's true. I've had two cocks in my entire life."
"I see."
"I'm not going to be celibate again."
"Well, what's your plan, Pam? Do you have one?"
"In fact, I do. Meet me at Vero's house tomorrow morning."
Veronica was an extraordinary lover and an even better friend to both Pam and myself. She knew how desperately Pam needed affection, so she allowed us to use her home as a love nest. Pam and I soaked Veronica's sheets on four consecutive Fridays. Veronica didn't seem to mind, so long as Pam stayed to wash and change the bed linens.
In addition to my three daytime lovers, I still had to keep my wife satisfied at night. Maria is a beautiful woman with a healthy sex drive that had begun to decline in recent years. I suppose it was partially a result of Maria's reduced demands on me that I was able to satisfy Veronica and her friends. In addition, I eliminated internet porn and masturbation as forms of entertainment. I never made a conscious decision to do so--I just didn't have the time or energy for onanism.
Maria did not complain at all while our love making gradually declined from five or six sessions per week to just two or three. Rather, she seemed both energized and more enthusiastic. We were having less sex, but she was enjoying it more. At various times I considered different explanations. Was my libido that much greater than hers? Was she working too much? Was she having an affair? Was I becoming a better lover? Was she having health problems?
I considered all of these theories, but derived no conclusions. To some extent, I did not want to know. So long as everything remained smooth, I was content to ride out the wave.
But if there is anything I have learned over all these years, it is to expect and accept the inevitability of change.
Change arrived for me on the morning of our twentieth anniversary. It was a Friday morning, and as I was leaving the house I felt a pang of guilt. I saw the open garage door at Pam's house -- my invitation to drive in and enjoy our weekly love making session. Just as I was about to turn into the driveway, that unwelcome feeling intensified. I was surprised when I attached a label to that feeling: shame.
I drove by Pam's house without stopping.
I telephoned her once I reached the office. She was disappointed, but accepted the excuse I constructed--that I was meeting with a client who had moved up his appointment so he could catch an earlier flight. Not the most original excuse, I realized, but it was entirely plausible. Pam bought it, at least.
I poured a cup of coffee and returned to my desk. I started to reach for the power switch on my computer, but that motion was interrupted by the text message notification on my cell phone. Preparing to be annoyed with Pam, I started composing a response to her anticipated request for an afternoon meeting. That thought was canceled when I saw that the message was from Veronica.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing, just starting to work."
"Does she suspect anything?
"Who?"
"Maria."
"No. I don't think so."
"She's acting strange."
"What do you mean?"
"Can't talk now. I'll call you this afternoon."
Looking up, I noticed my secretary seated across from my desk. I didn't see her enter, yet there she was. Trying to regain my composure, I took a sip of my coffee and booted up the computer. As I waited for the calendar program to open, I crossed my fingers and silently prayed that I would be able to get out of the office by four, giving me an extra hour to pick up a present on the way home. Veronica's message had put me on edge.
I don't usually wait until the last minute to make plans for our anniversary. This year, however, I was more than a little distracted as a result of juggling Veronica and all her friends.
No problem. Take Maria to a nice, romantic dinner; surprise her with an expensive piece of jewelry; take her dancing; everything turns out fine.
"Carmen, why is this lunch appointment the only thing on my calendar for today?" I asked.
"Maria called me earlier this week," she answered. "She asked me to keep the day clear. I think she has something special planned for you."
"Oh, really? And what might that be?"
"I'm afraid I don't know. She didn't share the details with me. She just asked me if I could keep the afternoon clear."
"I'm pretty sure there were other appointments on here yesterday. Didn't I have a status meeting scheduled with the Garcia brothers?"
"I'm sorry. That entry was a decoy. Your wife thought you might get suspicious if the day was entirely clear."
"I see. Carmen?"
"Yes."
"Who do you work for, me or my wife?"
"You, sir."
"Whose name is on the bottom of your paychecks?"
"Yours, sir."
"Please don't forget that fact in the future."
"I won't, sir. I just thought--"
"Tell me about my luncheon appointment," I interrupted. "I take it that I am not meeting Mr. Klinger at the Capital Grille?"
"That's correct, sir. You are meeting Maria at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel at 1:30."
"That's a little late for lunch."
"I know, sir. The two of you will have more privacy. Also, I thought that would give you a little more time--in case you need to pick up something at the last minute."
"Good thinking."
"You should probably leave by eleven so you don't get caught in traffic. Winston's Jewelry is on the way. Should I call Maxine and tell her to be expecting you?"
"Yes, that would be helpful. Specify that it's for our anniversary, and ask her to have five or ten suggestions for me to choose from."
"Of course, sir."
"Carmen?"
"Yes?"
"What does Maria have planned after lunch? Why did I need the rest of the afternoon cleared?"
"I really don't know. I didn't make those arrangements."
