I'm Clarissa or Clair as I'm known to family and friends and I'm laying back in the master bath tub and letting the warm water soothe and relax my body and mind. I have just finished shaving everything south of my neck. Ever since puberty, I have kept my puss bikini trimmed but the recent changes in my sex life demand a fresh and clean bare look.
Over the years I have fought to keep the figure I had at 18. Now at 38 I have busted my ass with daily workouts and the net result makes men take notice and gives me secret narcissistic pleasure. I enjoy admiring my painted toes, small feet, trim calves and thighs. My workouts have also yielded a nice flat belly and decent abs despite mothering two teenage children. After the kids I went from a B to a nice firm C, a fact that both my husband and I appreciated.
Speaking of my husband, I have been married for 17 years to my college boyfriend, Sean Wellingham. He is a sales engineer for a large manufacturing plant in suburban Chicago. Until a short time ago everything had seemed to be moving along just fine in our life. The kids were doing great, and everything else as in jobs, health and love life was moving ahead swimmingly. Our sex life was pretty typical for dual income suburban middle class marriages. It was difficult to fit in much more than quickies during the week but we made an effort to work in a longer encounters on the weekends. Sex between us wasn't that wild passionate honeymoon monkey fucking but rather a gentle and loving release that left one with the feeling that all was right with the world and our marriage.
So there we were sort of floating along peacefully content when the world came crashing down. It was a Wednesday night and Sean was traveling on an overnight trip to St Louis to visit his best client that was very important to his and his companies income. The kids were in bed and I was just getting settled in front of the TV after having laid out my clothes for the morning. The phone rang and I answered irritated that the kids may have been awakened.
"Is this Mrs Sean Wellingham?" asked a soft spoken man.
"Yes, it is, who is calling?"
"My name is Frank Kendall. My wife is Sandra Kendall and she is the Purchasing Agent for Techwork Industries, a company that I'm told does a significant amount of business with your husband's company. The purpose of my call is to inform you that your husband and my wife have been having an affair and she has been served with divorce papers tonight in your husband's hotel room. For your information I am having a packet of surveillance photos and PI reports delivered to your home this evening. I am kicking my bitch wife to the curb and I recommend you do the same with your spouse. Sorry to have ruined your evening, good night."
I sat there with the phone in my hand in shock for several long minutes and then was jared out of it by the ringing of the doorbell. I accepted the packet from the Fed Ex driver in a daze and went back to sit down. The report detailed the relationship between my husband and this Kendall woman. Apparently they had been doing business lunches and dinners for at least 18 months without romantic involvment but then just recently a sexual relationship developed with a least five liaisons at my husband's hotel. The photos showed the woman's comings and goings on the security cameras and five date and time stamped shots of them fucking. Each date had side and overhead views which clearly showed the cheaters faces.
I sat frozen for an indeterminate length of time and suddenly I knew what to do. I grabbed my phone and texted my boss that I have a family emergency and that I would have to be off for at least a week. When my husband began to call and text I just powered my phone off and went upstairs to pack. I woke Sean Jr and Beth and in record time bundled the three of us into my SUV.
At 12:30 I pulled into a Holiday Inn north of Madison and checked us into a room with two queens. The kids zonked out immediately but I couldn't sleep and so I got out my laptop and composed an email to Sean.
"The kids and I are on the way to Eau Claire to spend some time with my parents. Don't bother contacting me because I won't be responding. Besides "Eat Shit and Die" I don't have any other message for you at this time. I'll let you know what my plans are in a week or so."
The mini bar yielded a couple of overpriced Bourbons which I consumed while watching Fox News on mute.
The next day at breakfast I told my teenagers that their Father had been caught cheating on us with a female customer and that I would have to be making a decision on the future. They took the news with the disbelief and then the sadness that I expected. They were both close with Sean and so lots of their questions to which I had no answers involved who was going to live where and with whom.
It was a sad drive the rest of the way to Eau Claire and when we got to my folks suburban home we had a group cry for most of the afternoon. My folks didn't pry too much but then all I knew was in that Fed Ex envelope. My Grandma Anders lives across the street and so it was inevitable that by sunset she knew all the details and over cocktails that night we speculated as to why good old Sean had turned into that no good cheating son of a bitch.
After a wasted three days of crying and moping Grandma invited me over for lunch and over several gin and tonics she told me a story I had never heard before.
"I'm going to tell you a story about your Grandfather and I and I expect you to keep it to yourself. Never tell your Mother and if you can avoid it, do not attribute the story to me if you have to tell your husband. I had a similar experience with your sainted Grandfather. In the early 70's we had a widowed neighbor lady who we helped out with various things around her house. There were however some projects that only a man could do and I volunteered him. She was a nice lady, made great cookies and I guess was quite easy on the eyes. After several repair jobs she offered to pay Gene but he of course refused. She then turned to the most ancient currency of all and in what turned out to be four moments of weakness, he surrendered to his baser urges. He eventually tearfully confessed to me and was just about as sorry as a man can be."
"Wow Grams, what did you do? Obviously you stayed with him."
"Well, I ranted, raved as was the total bitch and he took it without a whimper. Eventually though I took stock on the fact that we had a house full of kids, tons of debt and by God I still loved the asshole. I moved out for a while and after a couple weeks I told him we would move back but with conditions. The most important of the conditions was that I would bed one or more of his friends the same number of times that he had fornicated with the neighbor lady."
"What was his reaction?"
"Well, he started to blow his top and so I just got up and handed him a card. He gave me one of those what the fuck is this?"
"The name of my lawyer. I'm filing on Monday so get your shit out of the house. I will also be asking for a restraining order to keep you away from the kids."