The Moral of the Story

So what WAS the moral of the story? He suggested several possibilities:

--Don't be a heavy drinker.

--Heredity outweighs everything else.

--You can't trust anyone, even members of your family.

--Stamina is very important.

I don't know which of these is right, or whether any of them is the best. I came up with another one on my own. Let me tell you the story, and you can be the judge.

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The business I'm in demands a lot of travel--a LOT of travel. I'm on the road at least a couple of weeks every month, and I spend more time in airports or hotels than at home in my own bed.

Fortunately I'm not a family man. Married twice, divorced twice. The first marriage ended when I came home at 11 am with a stomach flu and found Evelyn sucking some guy's dick in our living room. The second one was my fault. I just wasn't able to be a trusting guy after what Evelyn did, and I never fully committed myself to Joanne. It was my cheating that ended that marriage. No kids either time.

So life is lonely, but at least when I'm traveling I meet new people. I've had an awful lot of casual conversations in airport bars, and this was one of the most memorable.

It began in typical fashion. A guy slid onto the bar stool next to me and ordered a beer, we nodded to one another, exchanged a few ironic remarks about the weather and the joys of traveling. Both of us had a couple of hours to kill, and the conversation meandered along in a mildly interesting fashion.

We talked about business traveling for awhile--good airlines and bad ones, nice cities and awful ones--and then about baseball. He was an Astros fan, but didn't have much to brag about. I told him I'd seen Jeff Bagwell play back when he was still in the minors, in the Red Sox system.

We talked for a bit about how many airports we'd been in, how many stories we'd exchanged with strangers over the years. Idle conversation, and it seemed as though it might peter out. But I was in no hurry--there were still two more hours before my flight.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Sure," I replied.

"A guy told me a story not long ago, and he asked me what the moral was. I've been thinking about it ever since and I still can't make up my mind. You feel like hearing it?"

"Why not?" I said.

"It's about a woman named Maria," he said.

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The Story

Maria's life as a young woman was shaped by one central, painful fact: her mother was a slut. Maria's mother Rosie was a beautiful and delightful woman, cheerful and full of life, kind and generous, a woman who had many friends. But she loved sex—a lot of sex—and when she found her husband wasn't able to give her as much as she wanted, she showed little hesitancy in finding other lovers who would supply what was lacking at home.

Maria's father caught his wife cheating three times; after the first two, remarkably enough, she talked him out of divorcing her. But the third time, after he walked into the bedroom and discovered her banging a 19-year-old pizza delivery boy, he threw her out of the house. Maria was only seven; and from then on she and her two older brothers were shuttled back and forth between her divorced parents, one in Miami and one in Tampa, feeling perpetually insecure and unwanted.

Maria loved her mother, but she absolutely hated what Rosie had done, destroying what had been a happy family; and she resolved that she would never let anything like that happen to her.

Despite all the usual temptations, and the begging and pleading of her boyfriends, Maria pledged to save her virginity for her husband, and she did. At 22, fresh out of the University of Miami, Maria went to work as a paralegal for a small law firm in Key West. Four months later she was asked out to dinner by a young accountant in town, one Alexander Malcolm Winters, 28, who was bright and well-spoken and on his way to being a partner in the company he worked for.

They dated for over a year, and though Maria grew to love Alex very much she resisted his attempts on her virginity as she had resisted all those of his predecessors. Their first night of love-making, in a scene more reminiscent of an old-fashioned novel than of modern-day life, took place on their honeymoon.

It proved to be a happy marriage. Alex was hard-working and ambitious, and did very well at his firm. He was also totally devoted to Maria, considering himself lucky to have landed such a beautiful and loving wife. When he wasn't working long hours he was catering to Maria: bringing her coffee in the morning, cooking breakfast on the weekends while she slept late, picking up the dry-cleaning and doing other errands whenever he could manage.

In similar fashion Maria loved and appreciated Alex. Her father had not been a man who did much around the house, even in the happy days before the divorce, and she was grateful for Alex's efforts. Her husband seemed primed to provide them both with a good life, one of security and comfort, and she did all she could to support him. They had decided to wait before having children, so Maria was on the pill and their sex life could be completely spontaneous.

She found that she loved sex--in fact, it frightened her a little how much she loved it. The loss of her virginity had been more thrilling than painful, and Maria enjoyed every one of the new things her husband--who had had several previous girlfriends--taught her in bed. Whether it was missionary position, doggie-style, cowgirl, or something more exotic, Maria found it very exciting. She went absolutely crazy when Alex went down on her, and was more than happy to provide blowjobs in return. Anal sex was not quite so wonderful, but she was willing enough to indulge Alex on occasion.

Mr. and Mrs. Winters had sex frequently, whether at his instigation or hers, and thoroughly enjoyed it. But there was one fly in the ointment, one problem that kept things from being perfect: Alex's stamina.

Or, rather, Alex's lack of stamina. When he and Maria were screwing he found himself unable to last long enough to bring her to orgasm. Sometimes it would be two minutes, sometimes six--but never long enough for the steady rhythm to build her arousal to the point where she could come. Somewhere during her climb towards orgasm Alex would be unable to hold back, and his ejaculation would bring their love-making to an unwelcome end.

Alex felt terrible that he was disappointing his wife, though Maria lovingly reassured him that it didn't matter—that she loved their sex life together. They worked on the problem, reading sex manuals and even consulting a couples therapist, but they never solved it. Alex found that he could restrain his orgasm far longer with practice, even beyond ten minutes--but only if Maria lay still. If she responded to his thrusts, moving her hips around or pushing back at him, he invariably got too excited, lost control and came within a few seconds.

The irony of the situation bothered both of them: it was just when Maria became most excited, and unable to be passive as she approached her orgasm, that his response resulted in his being unable to give her one.

Despite this difficulty, it should not be assumed that Alex and Maria were alienated from one another. They loved one another deeply, and were comfortable enough together to talk freely about the problem and how to address it. Usually, Alex licked Maria to at least one orgasm before they had intercourse--she never felt cheated, as she frequently told her husband. Or as an alternative Alex caressed her breasts and pussy after he had come, persisting lovingly for as long as it took Maria to climax.

So no one could say their sex life was bad--indeed, Maria would never have said such a thing. If she longed from time to time for a powerful, steady fuck session in which she could reach orgasm, it certainly wasn't anything she ever dwelled on. In fact, when she and her best friend Susan gossiped idly about their lives--including their sex lives--Maria made hers sound terrific.

It may be that she actually felt safer, not being completely fulfilled. She could reassure herself that she wasn't like her mother, so driven by the need for more and better sex that she wrecked her own life and the lives of her family. Be that as it may, something came along to upset her safe, happy existence.

The something was Alex's younger brother, Kenny. When Maria married Alex she hadn't yet met Kenny, who was 23 and unemployed, bumming around the West Coast staying with some of his high school friends. But a couple of years later he moved to Key West and wound up with a job on a small sport-fishing boat that catered to rich tourists.

For the first three weeks he was in town, until he found an apartment, Kenny stayed with Alex and Maria. Alex loved his kid brother, treated him protectively and affectionately, and seemed blind to his faults. But Maria noticed them all: Kenny was immature, self-centered, and a bit rude. He acted totally unaware of the fact that his presence might disrupt his brother's household, or make Maria uncomfortable.

Kenny walked around in his boxers, he drank a lot of beer, he stayed up late at night with the TV on too loud, and he didn't lift a finger to wash the dishes or pick up after himself or do anything that a thoughtful houseguest might have done. After a couple of weeks of this Maria complained to Alex, who in turn asked Kenny to at least stop leaving his dirty laundry all over the floor. But it didn't get much better, and Maria was secretly delighted when Kenny moved out.

What she didn't acknowledge, even to herself, was that Kenny annoyed her partly because she found him sexy. She didn't like him, didn't enjoy his company, and resented the loss of privacy--but she often gazed at his body with a great deal of interest. He was about the same size as Alex, but while her husband the accountant was growing a bit soft from his long hours at a desk, Kenny had the tan and the hard muscles that came with a life outdoors on a fishing boat.

Alex continued to invite his brother for dinner on a regular basis, so Maria was unable to avoid him completely. Occasionally the two men sat up late together, matching one another beer for beer and laughing about stories or people they remembered from their childhood. On his own Alex was never that much of a drinker; but when he and his brother got going, they often drank well into the night, with one or both of them passing out rather than ever making it to bed.

On one of these nights Maria had several beers herself, before going off to bed around 11 pm, far more tipsy than she usually let herself get. A bit too inebriated to bother with washing up or brushing her teeth, Maria tossed her clothes onto a chair near the bed, pulled on her nightie, and almost instantly fell asleep. Sometime later she was aware of Alex sliding into bed behind her, spooning into her and pulling her tightly back against him. She murmured, only partially awake, as she felt him slide her nightie above her waist and slip his erect cock between her thighs.

"Honey," she complained, still mostly asleep, "I'm sleepy..."

But her husband didn't reply; instead he kissed her on the back of her neck, and reached his hands around to cup her breasts gently. Despite her drowsiness it felt good. In a few moments he had moved his cock up higher and was sliding it back and forth, rubbing it against her pussy lips. Maria gave in to the feelings, smiling to herself as his hands and his cock began to arouse her.

In a few minutes her excitement had grown, as Alex stroked her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples. She felt the wetness between her legs, and held her breath as Alex angled his cock up towards her pussy and then smoothly slid into her. It felt fantastic!

Maria lay back dreamily against her husband, her eyes closed, still on her side as he fucked her steadily from behind. It was delicious. She knew that he would come inside her long before she could reach her own orgasm, so she just relaxed and enjoyed the feelings.

But after several minutes her arousal increased, and an orgasm started to seem possible. Maria fought to remain still, knowing that as soon as she began to push back against Alex, giving in to her excitement, he would come. But finally she was just too turned-on to care. "Damn it," she thought, "I'm going to do what my body needs to do, and to hell with what happens next."

She began to arch her back, pushing her ass against him at every stroke, intensifying the force of his cock in her pussy and his groin banging against her, and her excitement soared. With every thrust she came closer to a fabulous orgasm, and she braced herself for her husband's inevitable premature climax.

But it didn't happen, and in no time she was frantically banging back at him, wild with the need to come, forgetting that this had never worked before. Her orgasm exploded inside her and she cried out, pulling a pillow up to her face for fear that she would wake Kenny if he was still in the house. Her body shook as the pleasure surged through her. He'd done it! Alex had made her come! And it was fantastic.

When it was over she gradually relaxed, feeling as happy and satisfied as she had ever been. She assumed that Alex must have come with her, and she waited for him to collapse against her so that she could turn over to kiss him and thank him, to share the joy of their achievement.

Instead, to her astonishment, she realized that he was still rock-hard inside her, still stroking steadily in and out, his hands still on her breasts. In another minute he gently pushed her over onto her stomach and she lay flat beneath him as he continued to thrust into her, now from above. This was amazing--Alex had never lasted so long.

Already satisfied from her terrific climax, Maria lay quietly and let him fuck her, marveling at his stamina and at how great it felt. She soon grew more excited again, and her excitement intensified when Alex pulled on her hips, bringing her up onto her knees, her shoulders and face pressed down into the mattress.

In this position he drove into her more and more forcefully. Maria moaned and squirmed, holding tight to the bedsheets with both hands. Soon she was approaching a second orgasm, and she again muffled her cries with a pillow as the pleasure overwhelmed her. And Alex went on and on, fucking her forcefully, masterfully.

By the time he accelerated into his climax Maria had come a third time, and was beside herself with pleasure. He pulled hard on her hips, yanking her back against him, and groaned as he finally shot his cum up into her. Maria fell forward, collapsing onto the bed, and Alex lay spent on top of her, both of them gasping. She had never been so gloriously satisfied in her entire life.

After a couple of minutes spent luxuriating in her feelings of pleasure, Maria turned over to kiss her husband. To her unspeakable shock and horror, she found herself looking not at Alex but at Kenny, who grinned unrepentantly back at her. Before she could scream at him he covered her mouth with his, whispering "quiet! Alex is passed out downstairs--you want to wake him up?"

She yanked his hand violently away from her mouth and began to abuse him, though being careful to keep her voice down to a whisper as well.

"You son-of-a-bitch! You BASTARD--what the hell are you doing in bed with me? You know that was rape, don't you--Alex is going to fucking KILL you!"

"Easy now, Maria," he answered, not looking particularly worried. "Are you sure you want your loving husband to know all about how we spent the last hour? You ready to tell him how much you enjoyed being fucked by me?"

"You raped me, you bastard! I didn't know it was you, I thought it was Alex!"

"I know you did--I even stopped in the bathroom to put on some of his cologne. But do you really think Alex will believe you? Better just to keep it between you and me, Maria."

As he said this Kenny calmly rose from the bed and began to gather his clothes. Still furious, Maria said nothing, her mind whirling. She hated to admit it to herself, but Kenny was right--telling Alex what his brother had done would be a risky proposition. At best, her husband would believe her, and that would mean the permanent end of all contact between the brothers, if not actual violence.

But what if he didn't believe her? What if Kenny persuaded Alex that she'd loved it, that she'd been an active participant, that she'd known all along it was Kenny in bed with her? She doubted Alex would fully believe that, but would he have doubts about her that would linger? Did she dare take that risk?

Without another word, her face tight with anger and frustration, Maria watched as Kenny left the room, giving her a happy wink, and headed to the guest bedroom, where he often stayed when he and Alex spent the evening drinking. To have felt so damn good, then to be so shocked and angry, to feel so helpless, was a lot for Maria to take in one evening.

In a silent fury she stripped the soaked sheets off the bed and stuffed them in the hamper, re-made the bed, then went downstairs in her nightgown to check on Alex. He was passed out in his easy chair, snoring contentedly. Maria went back up to bed, where she spent nearly an hour angrily cursing Kenny in her head before falling asleep.

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After that Maria and Kenny were in an uneasy stand-off, at least for her. She'd never been so angry, never felt so violated in her life. She would happily have tied him to a tree and slowly cut his balls off with a rusty knife.

But the more she thought about it, the less there was any way she could tell her husband what Kenny had done and still stay married—there was just too much risk that Kenny's version would make Alex so furious that he'd walk out on her, or never trust her again. And with every passing day it became more and more impossible to talk to Alex about it. After a week or so she realized miserably that she was going to have to live with her secret.

All she could really do was try to avoid Kenny. She started going out of the house whenever he was coming over--she'd go shopping or visit a friend.

When Alex asked why she didn't hang around to keep him and Kenny company, she said, "because the two of you drink too much, and then Kenny gets crude and I don't like being around him." She didn't dare go further than that.

Alex tried a couple of times to heal the "rift" between his brother and his wife. Once he took the three of them out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate a promotion and raise he'd received. The food was great but the evening wasn't a success. Kenny was relaxed and funny, and flirted in a charming way with his sister-in-law, but Maria was clearly tense and unhappy. She spoke only when asked a direct question, seemed actually to flinch when Kenny gave her a compliment, and never felt comfortable enough to enjoy the evening.

After that Alex pretty much let it go. He continued to hang out with Kenny, but more and more they'd go to Kenny's apartment or spend the evening in a bar. When they met at Alex's house, Maria continued to find reasons not to be there.

In the meantime, though, Maria couldn't stop thinking about Kenny--and how amazing the sex had been. The very next night she ravished her husband, being more aggressive and demanding than ever before, and he responded with enthusiasm. They did it half the night, and Alex made Maria come at least four times with his mouth. It was sweaty and satisfying, for both of them. But it didn't make Maria forget about how Kenny had fucked her.

The next week she came home from a sex shop with a vibrating dildo, one she'd carefully chosen because it was the same size as Alex's cock (and Kenny's, though she tried not to admit she was thinking about that). It quickly became a big part of their sex play: frequently instead of eating her until she came, Alex would fuck her with the vibrator, sometimes while licking her clit or sucking one of her breasts at the same time. Maria found that she loved the orgasms she got this way--coming with her pussy filled was wonderfully satisfying.