Author's note: This is the conclusion of the first story I'd written. I didn't want to write a series so I've included the whole thing here. I know it's long but I've broken it into Parts and Chapters so you can stop and come back easily. Each part should have enough good scenes to keep you going and the length allowed the characters to develop.
Part I
(Over the Line)
Ch. 1
I'd thought about cheating before just like anyone else but you always chalk it up to fantasy and it doesn't matter where a man gets his appetite as long as he eats dinner at home right? However, my affair wasn't with anyone I'd ever fantasized about.
I got lucky with my wife who was by any definition beautiful. We met my senior year of high school where my saving grace was athletics; I might not have been that good looking but I couldn't be beaten on a wrestling mat, and maybe I tell a good joke or two. I look back on those days fondly before real life and time started to wilt the beauty of youth. At 31 I shave my head bald to hide that I'm losing my hair and the physique and energy my wife once had was stolen by our 4 kids. That's not to say she's not still pretty; my wife will always retain a natural beauty she inherited from her mother. We have a good marriage and don't really fight much unless it's about the money we don't have and who's more at fault for that.
I've always viewed it as a man's job to provide for his family and I work a lot of overtime to make ends meet but it's still not enough. It doesn't help that my mother-in-law whispers a constant reminder to my wife that I'm not good enough for her especially since the other boys she dated in high school all have six-figure salaries.
To be honest, neither of her parents really care for me, we're just different people. I grew up in Houma, Louisiana the son of a tugboat captain and started work on the tugboats right out of high school. Life wasn't always easy for my brother and me, we worked hard for what we had and fought harder to keep it; wearing a new pair of shoes to our school was always a risk. However, I find it all worth it every time I catch the "how the hell did this happen," look on my father-in-law's face when his daughter kisses a man better suited to a bar room fight than a cocktail party.
Even though I'm a Captain now it doesn't pay as well as investment banking or Corporate manager but they give us good insurance and the work keeps me in shape. I may not look like I did in High School but I can carry a 10-ton shackle all day and work any of my 20 something deckhands into the ground.
Both my in-laws are college educated, my father-in-law, Pat is a nurse and his wife is a doctor. Pat's tall, about 6'1" and probably weights 160 soaking wet. A good-looking guy I guess, at least he still has all his hair. He's accepted that I'm here to stay and we get along fine but I have trouble respecting a man that doesn't do his own repair work and never gets his hands dirty. He hates that I still say "fuck" around him, but I don't think that's ever gonna stop; men do still cuss, don't they?
My mother-in-law Dr. Margret runs their house and never misses a chance to put me down or show that she's the boss by degrading her husband in front of me. Physically she's beautiful though she hides it behind a matronly appearance. With her short blonde hair, frill neck blouses, and the obvious lack of make-up she still cuts a striking figure. For as long as I've known my wife Dr. Margret has maintained an hourglass figure with breasts that always seemed to have the fullness of a new mother, and a bottom that looks better in a pair scrubs than tight blue jeans. Her face is soft with high cheeks that reddened from a touch of rosacea, and bright light blue eyes sit atop a small rounded nose. However, beauty is only skin deep.
I don't like leaving the house when I'm not at work. I work 28 days at a time and only get 14 off so I like to spend them at home but owning the only truck in the family comes at a price, and Dr. Margret for all her belligerence likes to donate shit. I guess she feels if she donates things it counters the rest of the time when she's an overbearing bitch.
She had a gargantuan chest of drawers she'd promised to the Salvation Army and my wife volunteered me to pick it up. Thanks dear. A tidbit of news she laid on me the night before I was supposed to pick the damned thing up.
"Look just go over there early since you know she won't be awake yet and you'll be done before she ever wakes up." My wife tried telling me before I started bitching. Too late, I was gonna bitch anyway.
"Where's your father? It's Monday and I'd like one day of rest before I go back to work." Work wasn't for another week but I had to try.
"Look, you know my father's out of town this week and like I said you'll be gone before she knows you're there."
I didn't say anything but didn't move either.
Seeing that I wasn't convinced she continued, "Just think, you'll earn brownie points with her without having to interact with her."
I shot a look that said you're full of shit but before I could open my mouth she raised her hand to stop me and said, "most importantly you'll earn brownie points with me."
She said this last bit with a lascivious smile that hinted I might earn an interesting night in bed. We've been married too long for me to genuinely expect something more than ordinary sex but sex is sex and the promise of it was good enough for me.
I left the house at 6 that morning, which is early even for me but I wanted to make sure I didn't have to interact with Dr. Margret. My in-laws live about 45 minutes away from us in an old neighborhood populated with ancient oaks. Looking at my watch when I pulled into the gravel drive I noted that it was almost 7 and I questioned whether I should have left earlier. Oh well, too late now.
I got out the truck and headed for the back shed where they kept the spare key. The shed was painted green to match the house and organized in a fashion that said the owner cared more about looking like they had a nice work shed than using it. I noticed these things with resentment because under the fake rock by the door where they hid the key, there was no key. I looked in a few other places while silently cursing my wife before I walked back outside and to the house where I was gonna have to wake HER up.
I stood at the top of the steps and rang the doorbell.
It was already starting to get hot today and the air was sticky as the morning dew was burning off. Homes build in Louisiana pre-air conditioning were often built off the ground to allow air to move underneath. I couldn't help staring at the crawl space wondering how many raccoons lived under there but before I had a chance to ring the bell again I heard the latch click open.
Still dreary eyed and in nothing but a white cotton bathrobe, my mother in law opened the door.
"Oh good morning." she said, "I didn't know you were coming."
I stepped inside and she leaned in to give me a hug. I hated hugging her, it always felt like a lie, but as she leaned the top of her robe fell open just enough to see the soft white upper swell of her breasts. This was not the first time she'd answered the door in a bathrobe and I always took the chance to glance at her breasts. They remained firm as if to prove even gravity couldn't tell her what to do. My favorite thing about them was the light dotting of freckles across the top that betrayed her Irish heritage.
She hugged me and in disingenuous concern said: "I'm sorry you had to come on your days off."
Hating that game I didn't say anything and just asked where the chest of drawers was.
"It's the front bedroom. Give me a chance to change and I'll help you with it."
The back door opened into the kitchen with its old linoleum floor and white marble countertops on top of white cabinets.
I tried to prevent her interference so before she could leave the kitchen I said "It's okay. Go back to bed. I can get it myself."
"Nonsense" she responded and headed to her room before I could say anything.
Nobody ever accused my mother in law of doing anything quickly so I figured if I hurried I could be out of there before she came back. I made my way to the front bedroom.
