My ex-wife was hard to resist. After what my girlfriend had done to me, she had made a concerted effort to either get me back into her bed and her life, or maybe just fuck me to death. On the one hand, she was kind to me at exactly the right time... whilst she was fucking other men secretly. I wish I had known about that. She had taken me from my evil ex-girlfriend, only to cheat on me herself!
A few years ago, during our divorce process, she had gained a fair amount of weight; supposedly because of her boyfriend's desire for her to "bulk up". He thought she was all skin and bones. All this took place after I was gone, so I heard about it secondhand from her sexy sister.
I thought my ex was almost perfect. Well, right up until she decided to fuck another man. One of her idiotic slut puppy girlfriends insisted that because she had only had four men (including me) before we married that she was ENTITLED to try out a few men before she got too old. I found out this was a bullshit idea anyway because she had fucked way more than four guys pre-marriage; she meant four serious relationships and didn't count all those one-night stands and short trysts.
I think she just loves to fuck strange cock and needs a justification so she can cheat on me. I found out about her activities and she gave me this stupid argument; I said ok, BUT she would be fucking other men as my EX-WIFE, not as my current spouse. I even made that a stipulation, that she give up my last name. I didn't care what she wished to call herself, but I did not want her out sport-fucking with MY last name. In the divorce, she went back to her maiden name Baldwin, with lots of tears for some reason. Her first name is Celeste. Her last name should have been "Please fuck me, stranger".
When she was in the middle of her stupid affair she was forty-six, twenty-four, thirty-eight, a true hourglass figure. For those guys who don't like big-busted women, too bad. To each his own. She had nursed four children in four years, really almost six years. Her thus milk-enlarged mammaries never went back to their smaller size, no matter how much vigorous exercise she did every other day. Plus she and I had ballroom dance class every Wednesday night and we went dancing every Saturday night as well. The end result was that Celeste was a knockout, big beautiful tits and gorgeous ass, with a tiny waist and minimal body fat. She was a wet dream come true, at least for me. I had not found out about her extramarital fucking at that point. Live and learn. At least I had a few years with my children. Those were some of the happiest moments of my life.
I tried to make her life as nice and varied as I could. Someone at her part-time job convinced her that I didn't know her or love her. Both assertions were made-up lies, but she bought it all hook, line, and sinker. Once she gets an idea in her head it may as well be carved in granite; this is regardless if the idea is right or wrong. I believe she had decided to fuck around on me right then and there.
I lost my dear Celeste for good in that single awful moment. She made up her mind that she was entitled, and that was that. In the end, she was truly entitled. Celeste was entitled to her divorce, which I gave to her. With her unshakable fucked up attitude perhaps this would make her happy? It tore my heart out, but I could not live with the lack of love and the disrespect shoved down my throat. The time period she hid her true feelings was mercifully short. I of course was still fully and deeply in love with her. I did not know the bell had tolled on our life and love already. I did not know that I was about to lose her, my kids, everything.
She was sick for my annual Christmas party, now renamed the Holiday party. Celeste insisted that I go, so I went to just make a quick appearance. I was there for perhaps forty-five minutes. I then danced with my secretary, three sales reps, and the boss's very drunken wife Connie. I had a real wrestling match with Connie to keep her off my junk. It was on a video sent anonymously to my then-wife, saying that I was cheating on her. Celeste was crying about the whole situation when I walked into the house, then it became an angry maelstrom. My wife was sure certain that I was cheating on her, and she was furious.
I never had a chance. Celeste went on the warpath and went full scorched earth upon me. She contacted my big boss at work and convinced him that his wife was cheating on him (with me). He paid for a very talented lawyer who ripped me a new asshole on behalf of my wife. I was unable to defend myself and my wife won in court. She got everything. I got the clothes on my back. I was invited to leave the home and never return. I told her the truth about what happened, but she didn't want to believe me. I felt like I was railroaded straight out of my marriage.
Then a week after the divorce was finally ended, I found out that she had been cheating on me throughout the whole process and probably well before that. I was just devastated. The entire party thing was just to get her more money in the already anticipated divorce. I think she had set up the whole thing.
Then two days later, I was fired from my decent, well-paying job. On top of that, my bastard boss had put out the word amongst his corporate cronies, and I was then effectively blackballed. I could not find a job in our area or our industry, for that matter. I guess Celeste (now my ex-wife) had pretty much won the divorce battle. I never really had a chance. So much for love huh? I wonder if she ever loved me at all?
Perhaps I should have sued for defamation, but I had no money to pay for the attorney fees. Lawyers are not cheap. My life was basically destroyed. I felt like Adam, cast out of the Garden forever. Only I had not eaten the apple. Oh well, apple or not, I'm just as fucked.
So, in desperation, I became an over-the-road trucker. It took about five weeks to get my license (CDL) and another couple of weeks of company training, but I did it! I didn't buy my own rig, that was a whole lot of money and headaches I didn't want. I was a company driver. I fell into a semi-regular run up to St.Paul/Minneapolis, then down to Dallas/Fort Worth, and finally back home to Pennsylvania. The money was good, the work was hard, and I was on the road three weeks out of four. Sometimes ten weeks out of eleven. Needless to say, I did not get much home time. What the hell did I need home time for? The only thing that hurt terribly was the loss of my children. Losing them just about killed me.
I missed my kids. Phone calls and three days a month did not help me with my parenting skills. I caught the scum bag that had replaced me in my house, and I knocked him out with one punch. His balls met my foot several times before the cops pulled me off him. I wanted to stop him from breathing. Wishes don't always come true.
