There was a time in my life when some relevant questions tormented me. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever answer them completely to my satisfaction, let alone to the satisfaction of others, but I had hope. I regularly wondered how I got to the position where these questions had used up more of my brain power than I would have liked them to. I hoped that I would ultimately get satisfactory answers before my head exploded.
The four diabolical questions that vexed me were:
1) Can one have a long-term physically satisfying sexual relationship with someone that you don’t like — perhaps even detest?
2) Does having a sexual relationship outside of marriage with someone that you don’t like necessarily mean that you don’t really love or respect your spouse?
3) Can having regular sexual liaisons with someone you don’t like allow you to “blow off steam” so that you’re a better worker, lover, spouse, and/or parent than you otherwise would be?
4) Can you still honestly believe, maybe even know, that you are not disrespecting someone you hold in high regard and still fuck their detestable spouse?
That these four questions bothered me came to fore only once my wife Cindy and I moved to a new area for me to start a new, great, job.
When I, Mason Burns, got married to Cindy, the love of my life, nine years ago when I was twenty four, I couldn’t postulate that any of these four questions would ever confront me.
When I went to work for Malcolm West, the president of TTX, Inc., a large international corporation three years ago in my dream job I would have laughed if any one of these four questions was hypothesized to me; I would have bet my entire life savings that they would never have any relevance to me.
Just months before the seminal part of this story I was figuratively fat, dumb, and happy. Then I came to question many things in my life.
***********
I met Malcolm West’s wife Melody shortly after I started working for him. I was hired by Malcolm because I had a very broad set of skills that were important to him. Malcolm had trouble walking so he often rode in a wheelchair. Because of my size and strength I had the ability to physically help him in any situation, including even carrying him in his wheelchair a short distance or over a barrier. I also had an MBA and understood his business so that not only was I a helper and body guard but I could intelligently discuss and help implement many sophisticated business plans, and I understood the business of TTX almost as well as anyone else in the company except for Malcolm. Malcolm had told me many times that I was indispensable to him and I believed him since he made me the third highest paid employee of TTX.
When I first met Melody I was surprised that Malcolm was married to her. There are many reasons for this.
One, Melody was probably my age of 33 when I write this story; maybe a year or two older, but about twenty years younger than Malcolm.
Two, Melody did not seem very sophisticated although Malcolm is one of the most sophisticated people I have ever met.
Three, Melody seemed most comfortable in organizing, attending, or participating in physical activities, whereas Malcolm seemed to treasure intellectual and artistic activities.
Four, Melody has a sharp tongue and while Malcolm is no-nonsense in business and has a strong character he never verbally abuses anyone in any way.
Melody has one feature that provides a rational reason that Malcolm married her. She is very good looking, with a sultry aura.
While my impressions of Melody were not favorable the first few times that we interacted, my wife Cindy was not as harsh in her view of Melody. In any event since initially I didn’t have to deal with Melody on a regular basis, and since Malcolm seemed to be relatively happy in his marriage, I just stuffed my views in the back of my mind and didn’t let them occupy any of my brain cells.
Then there came a first problematic event. For some reason Melody accompanied Malcolm and me during a business trip to Stockholm. I think that there were a number of well-known shopping areas there that she wanted to scope out.
Malcolm, Melody and I were leaving a high-class Stockholm restaurant where Melody had had too much to drink, although she wasn’t actually drunk. Our plan was to walk back to our hotel with me pushing Malcolm’s wheelchair. The plan was delayed when Melody stumbled — probably in part due to her alcohol consumption, and in part due to her four inch spiked heels — into a young man on the street. If she had just apologized we could have been on our way.
Unfortunately not only did Melody not apologize but she let loose a string of invectives normally reserved for drill Sergeants or prison guards. The wronged young man responded in kind.
Melody and the young male — who spoke good English (as it seems that everyone in Sweden does) — were soon in each other’s faces while exchanging vile swearwords. I could tell that Malcolm was uncomfortable and I asked him if I should intervene and he enthusiastically indicated “Yes.”
I walked between spitfire Melody and the young man and calmly said to him “I’m sorry if we’ve offended you. We’re unaccustomed to the customs of your country and I hope that you could excuse us.”
This irritated Melody and she snapped “He’s the asshole here, I haven’t done anything rude,” as she pushed me to try to get to the guy. I turned to her and said “Please calm down, Mrs. West; let’s just stroll to the hotel.”
“Not until this little shit apologizes,” she snarled. Then she swung her purse at him, around my body, and it connected. He then swung at her and caught her a glancing blow. That now meant that I had to intervene physically.
I grabbed the young man by the collar, lifted him off the ground, and walked him ten steps away up against the brick front of the restaurant. I mumbled to him “I know that she’s acting like a bitch but you don’t ever hit a woman. Now just turn and walk away; we’re going south, you go north.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” he snarled.
I put my hand on his throat and squeezed. In a low voice I continued “I don’t want to hurt you but you must realize by now — since you can’t move, talk, or do anything with my hand crushing your larynx — that I’m fully capable of hurting you. Walk away now. If after I release you to save your pride you need to yell some swearwords at me, feel free to do so. But walk away or you will get hurt badly.”
Not being able to breathe for a while apparently gave the guy religion because he nodded his head “Yes,” I released him, and as we both walked away, me south, him north, he did yell some swearwords at me although not very loudly because he still didn’t yet have fully functional vocal cords.
While I had been roughing the guy up apparently Malcolm had calmed Melody down some because she seemed ready to walk back to the hotel. At that point, however, both she and I were doing a slow burn; me because not only was she initially at fault but because her feisty personality had intensified the situation; she because I didn’t just take her side and punch the guy out.
Neither she nor I said much as we walked back to the hotel. After I delivered Malcolm to his and Melody’s suite I went directly to mine, which was on the same floor. I had undressed, took a shower, and put on a robe when there was a strident knock on my door. I opened it and Melody pushed past me into my suite.
At the restaurant she had on a business suit with a relatively short skirt and jacket and what appeared to be a flimsy but elegant blouse, along with her four inch heels. Now in my room she had removed her jacket (revealing just how flimsy her blouse was) and had flats on her feet.
With her eyes shooting out laser beams and her breath smelling of recently consumed Scotch Melody verbally attacked me. “You dumb fucking lout, why did you take that asshole’s side and not just kick the shit out of him?”
“Because it seemed like you were not only in the wrong but you were intensifying the situation beyond reason. How could you get into an altercation on the street in Stockholm? Why didn’t you just walk away? I’m not your fucking nursemaid or bodyguard.”
“How dare you talk to me like that, you asshole; I’ll have Malcolm fire you.”
“Listen bitch, you don’t want to tell Malcolm it’s you or me because you will get shit-canned before I do. He needs me for many reasons; he doesn’t need a bitch like you for anything aside from sex.”
The argument escalated. During it she pushed me a couple of times and I moved slightly backward with each push just to keep her out of my face. Unrecognized by me, however, was that her pushes dislodged the cloth belt of my robe exposing my naked male equipment.
Melody interrupted her tirade, stared at my crotch, got a weird expression on her face, and then pushed me again. This time I tripped on one of my size fourteen shoes lying on the floor in front of the couch in my suite, and I fell backward into the couch. As I was falling I instinctively reached out and grabbed Melody’s blouse. As my 245 pounds (111 kg) fell backwards the flimsiness of Melody’s blouse was confirmed. It ripped completely off of her exposing a braless pair of pleasantly ponderous east-west protruding nipple tits.
Apparently my cock had an unwelcome immediate reaction to Melody’s bare chest because it inflated as quickly as a balloon connected to a canister of helium. Totally chagrined I glanced down at my cock and it was doing its best to simulate a flagpole. When I looked back at Melody, her destroyed blouse still in my grasp, it seemed like she was stepping out of something (I determined later that it was her panties).
The next few seconds were surreal — if I remember them correctly, because of my shock I may not have. She approached me, straddled me on the couch with her knees either side of my torso with one hand on my shoulder and the other holding my upright cock steady. Then she started lowering her surprisingly well lubricated pussy onto my cock.
I like to believe that I tried to stop her by discarding the shredded blouse and pushing her chest away from me, but that isn’t what the result was. The result was that my hands settled on the prominent orbs on her chest and with a mind of their own stayed there, squeezing and releasing her tits.
I groaned when Melody’s pussy fully engulfed my cock, while she simultaneously let out a yelp, sigh, and grunt in quick succession. Then she started rippling her pc muscles like a peristaltic pump — something that I didn’t know was possible — while continuously grunting. The next conscious thought I remember having after the initial ecstasy of her peristaltic pump action on my cock was my mouth sucking one of her nipples like I was a starving baby while my hands continued to maul both tits.
I came more quickly than at any time since I was a horny teenager with seminal fluid salvos so powerful that I was surprised that they didn’t catapult her off of me. After about the fifth salvo she screamed in orgasm and then collapsed onto my chest, requiring me to desist my tit sucking but still allowing me to squeeze her tits.
An indeterminate period of time followed once we came down from our orgasms. That period was interrupted by several intense aftershocks which kept us both fuzzy-headed. Finally my head cleared.
When my head cleared and Melody leaned her chest away from me I realized that my cock was not only still buried in her pussy, but was still rock hard. Melody seemed too wiped out to do anything about it, but my cock was anxious for more action.
Succumbing to my cock’s needs I stood up with my cock still buried in Melody and held her body to mine. I moved her over to the bedroom part of my suite, gently put her back on the mattress, climbed aboard the bed, and then proceeded to fuck her. I held back on fucking her as hard as I wanted to — so as not to hurt her — but my fucking was still more extreme than any other before in my life. It had more intensity than my wife Cindy could have stood but the succubus — which is what I now considered Melody — that I was pummeling seemed to really enjoy it.
Since I had already busted my nut once this time I lasted a long time; in fact long enough for the succubus to actually recover some from our first mating. My balls were just starting to boil when she started that pussy rippling action again and I immediately came like a howitzer discharging.
Eventually I pulled my cock out of her hot little pussy and sucked on her tits for a while. I knew that other emotions would soon overwhelm me, but I put those off. Once we both were fully recovered Melody, aka The Succubus, asked “How the fuck am I supposed to explain my appearance to Malcolm when I show up with a shredded blouse and a just-fucked look?”
My mind worked fast. “You take a shower here including getting your hair wet. Then you take the second robe in my suite and with just your shoes on walk back to yours. You tell Malcolm that you needed to unwind so you went into the hotel’s hot tub and were so mellow that you left your clothes in the swim area locker. I’ll give you the extra key to my suite and tomorrow when Malcolm and I are in our morning meeting you recover your skirt and panties. I’m sure that Malcolm will never ask you about your blouse but if he does you just tell him that you spilled red wine on it and had to toss it out.”
Melody was pensive for a while tend mumbled “That will work. Only one problem — my spine is Jell-O and I can’t walk to the shower — carry me.”
I did carry the bitch to the shower stall, got the water warm and then lifted her in. She almost fell so I got in with her and held her up and started washing her off. She didn’t protest when I fingered her pussy and washed it with a wash cloth in an attempt to drain at least some of the cum out of it. She got completely lucid after a couple of minutes, turned to face me and started giving me a hand job.
Instead of stopping Melody from giving me a hand job — I didn’t think that I had any jism left — I started sucking on her nipples while playing with her ass with my hands. To my surprise I actually spewed out some more seminal fluid when she jacked me off and she seemed to have a minor orgasm from my tit sucking (combined with sticking a thumb in her asshole).
After we dried off, I gave her the second (smaller) robe from my suite and she put that and her flat shoes on. I then gave her the extra key to my suite, and she exited without another word or look.
By then — having busted my nut three times including two of the all-time physical fucks of my life — and after having expended much emotional energy in dealing with both my argument with Melody and the impromptu sex, I actually collapsed into bed.
I had a number of weird dreams. That was to be expected because that is what a succubus like Melody is known for — a demon that fucks you in your sleep. Crushing guilt didn’t hit me until later.
**********
I made it through the important meeting the next morning, and despite the emotions festering in the back of my brain straining to come out I was very productive providing bits of information and suggestions to Malcolm that resulted in just the result we were looking for. When I got back to my hotel suite Melody had removed her skirt, panties, and shredded blouse, and there was no evidence of last night’s debauchery.
That night we had dinner with a supplier and customer and their wives so I didn’t have to interact with Melody. I got a good night’s sleep. Malcolm, Melody and I took a limo to the Stockholm airport first thing the next morning.
It was only when we were in the first class section of our flight back to the US that my guilt started to intrude into my consciousness, finally escaping from the back of my mind. My guilt was multi-fold.
I had cheated on my wife Cindy, the love of my life. Obviously she didn’t deserve it. I could try to excuse myself because Melody was a succubus and had come on to me, but I could have stopped it — I outweigh her by 115 pounds and am four times as strong as she is.
My guilt didn’t stop there. Not only had I betrayed the love of my life but I had betrayed Malcolm, the man that I most respected in the world. If either he or Cindy found out about my betrayal I don’t believe that I could have withstood the embarrassment — and their disappointment. Also, would I be fired and blackballed? I would deserve it.
After several hours of self-flagellation I decided that I had to do three things. #1 Be the best husband in the world for Cindy. #2 Be the best employee, protector, and friend in the world for Malcolm. #3 Never have any physical contact with the succubus ever again, and purge all thoughts of our night of debauchery from my mind.
I thought that #3 would be easy, since I actually detested Melody. Just as that thought sped through my mind, however, she got up from her seat across the aisle from me and as she pivoted her body to get up I got a clear shot under her skirt of her sleek thighs and panty-less pussy; and as she started to stand up I got another good look at her prodigious tits peeking through her low cut blouse. I cursed my cock for stiffening and then re-started my self- flagellation.
Just before we landed I vowed never to be one-on-one with the succubus ever again.
**********
Over the next three weeks things got back to normal as much as they were likely to get. Malcolm did have a talk with me — and he said he also had one with Melody — about our apparent dislike for each other. “I know that some aspects of her personality and behavior rub you the wrong way Mason, but for my sake I please ask you to be patient and understanding. I’ve asked the same thing of Melody.”
I told him that I would do as he asked; I wanted to say “Just keep the bitch away from me,” but that would have been counterproductive.
Things started to go off the rails again when I told Malcolm that I wanted to organize a 55th birthday soiree for him. I knew that I could never pull off a surprise party — plus planning his schedule did not suit itself to one — so I had no apprehension telling him my plans. When he said “What a coincidence; Melody said the same thing about her planning a party last night. I think it would be good for your long term relationship with her to work together on it rather than at cross purposes,” he said with a big grin.
I tried to demur and tell him that Melody could do it by herself but he wouldn’t hear of it. While I was still in his office he called Melody and told her of his wish to have me and her plan his 55th birthday event together. From Malcolm’s end of the conversation it appeared that she also offered resistance, but ultimately agreed.
“All day Saturday I’m going for treatment and will have an orderly to wheel me around, so why don’t you visit Melody at my house then. I’m sure the cook can make you a nice lunch too,” Malcolm beamed.
Since I would be meeting with Melody on Saturday and had an event I had to attend most of the day on Sunday, Cindy took the opportunity to fly to meet her sister halfway between her house and ours for a weekend of shopping and bonding, leaving Friday and returning Monday morning. I was fine with it.
I was thankful that some of the staff would be at Melody’s house on Saturday so that we wouldn’t be alone.
I got to Melody’s house about ten a. m. on Saturday. I was perplexed when she answered the door instead of the butler or maid. “Where are Winston and Carrie?” I asked, since I was friendly with both the butler and maid.
“This is a weekend off for both of them since Malcolm will be gone most of the time,” she grumpily replied.
“Is Sean around to make us lunch?” I asked, inquiring about the cook.
“No, he called in sick this morning. However, if you need something to eat I can make it.”
“Shit-shit-shit,” ran through my brain.
Melody and I started talking about the party. We were polite and patient for the first five minutes. Then we crossed swords about virtually everything — the venue, food, guest list, date, time, decorations, gifts or lack thereof, you name it.
Ultimately Melody said “Look; you know damn well that you’re uncouth and that I have taste; just go along with what I want.”
“Sorry, but I see it exactly the opposite; you’re rude and pretentious and I know better what Malcolm would appreciate,” I snapped back.
“Just because I was drunk and let you fuck me shouldn’t get you on your high horse, asshole,” she snickered.
“First of all you fucked me first. You were like a three dollar whore in heat, and I can’t believe that I let my dick control my brain in response to your succubus ways,” I snarled.
That precipitated another fierce name calling argument. Finally she slapped me in the face with her right hand, and then drew it back to slap me again. I grabbed both of her hands with my left hand to stop any further slaps, then sat down and pulled her onto my lap. I pulled up her skirt and then made the mistake of pulling down her panties before I started administering a spanking to her butt cheeks.
It was a mistake because not only was her rosebud winking at me, but her pussy started leaking and I inhaled her odor. I only got in three swats before my little head started controlling my big head.
How it transpired so smoothly I have no recollection. However, shortly after the third swat on her kiester suddenly my cock was rock hard, she was on her hands and knees on the thick den carpet, my pants and boxers were down around my knees as I knelt behind Melody, and my dickhead was at her vaginal vestibule.
“Don’t you dare fuck me you asshole,” Melody snarled, but her leaking pussy belied her words. I entered her snug orifice in one slow but steady push, and that was the last word of protest I heard from her.
Doggy fucking the succubus was heavenly and I expected to last a long time. She apparently had other ideas because she started her pussy peristaltic action again and soon I was grunting like a drove of pigs while she screamed and went limp.
After suffering through a series of powerful aftershocks I finally withdrew my cock from her pussy and collapsed next to her. She sat up, removed her blouse and bra, and unbuttoned my shirt. Once she completed her task I sat up and she pulled my shirt off my arms and tossed it away.
“God, I hate you, you perverted asshole,” she growled. “I should report you to the cops for rape.”
“I didn’t rape you; you know damn well that you were asking for it,” I snickered.
“Yeah, well I just might report you anyway,” she growled again.
While we were lying there I was playing with one of her nipples. She had no complaint. Then she turned on her back and started rubbing her clit. Something overwhelmed me, and only for the third time in my life I had a burning desire to eat a pussy I had just fucked.
My fingers on one hand replaced hers on her clit and my tongue penetrated between the folds of her labia, while the fingers of my other hand spread her labia apart. Melody turned out to be one of the most multi-orgasmic succubi in history. She came five times in quick succession due to my oral and finger work before she went limp. I wasn’t done with her, however.
I lifted Melody’s limp body off the floor and sat her on my lap while I sat on a padded chair in the den. I slowly entered her pussy with my once again rock hard cock as she sat on my lap facing away from me as I grabbed onto her tits for fun and traction. I had been bucking up and down laying pipe in Melody’s cunt for a few minutes before she started to rally. Once she did rally she started that pussy rippling again at the same time that she flicked her own clit. We came simultaneously with the force of a tidal wave, and I actually fell backwards on the chair until my torso was stopped by the chair back.
I finally gained complete clarity and my deflating cock slithered out of her cooch. Once I was sure that I had regained my strength I stood up, picked her up, and carried her to her bed and deposited her on top of her comforter. I then covered her with an extra sheet from the linen closet. I went back downstairs, dressed, and wrote her a short note and put it on her kitchen table, sure that when she woke up she’d be famished. “Why don’t you handle the venue, date and time, and gifts or lack theeof, and I’ll handle the guest list, food, and decorations? Deal?”
I exited the West mansion, went to a Schlotzsky’s for a large muffuletta and then tried to get some work done around my house. Doing menial tasks helped me temporarily tamp down my guilt, and avoid asking myself why I had fucked Melody given my disdain for her and how screwed up I still was from our first encounter. I napped, weightlifted, ordered Chinese delivery, talked on the phone with Cindy for a good hour, and then sat down in front of the boob tube to watch a mindless comedy, like Caddy Shack, to get my mind off my issues. By then it was 10 p. m. but before the movie got into its second scene the doorbell rang.
When I looked at the camera display for my front door I couldn’t believe it; it was the succubus herself. I grudgingly opened the door. “Can I come in?” Melody asked in an almost friendly voice.
“Sure,” I replied, moving aside so that she could walk past me. We sat in the living room and I turned the TV off; I waited until she spoke.
“After his rehab for the entire day Malcolm is always wiped out. He’s fast asleep now, Carrie is in the house in case there is an emergency, but he’ll sleep until ten or eleven tomorrow morning. We need to talk,” she announced, the understatement of the year.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “I guess we do.”
“Look,” she seriously said, “I know that you don’t like me and I don’t like you and the unexplained attraction that we seem to have disturbs me a lot. I was thinking — maybe if we have a night of complete wickedness that will cure us of the same thing happening that happened the last two times that we were one-on-one.”
I didn’t have an immediate reaction so she continued, pulling a small plastic bag from her purse. “I even brought a couple of Malcolm’s little blue pills to facilitate matters. Do you think that my idea will work?”
Of course her idea was actually a stupid invitation to consciously cheat even without the lame excuse of extenuating circumstances. Despite that my little head once again controlled my big head. I stood up, took her hand, and slowly walked upstairs with her to our guest room, being careful to set an alarm for 7 a. m. the next day.
***********
The next morning the alarm aroused us with one of my hands on one of her tits, and one of her hands on my ball sac. We took a shower together without saying more than a few words and with no hanky-panky since our private parts were completely worn out. As we ate a simple breakfast in my kitchen Melody said “It didn’t work, did it?”
“I’m afraid not,” I replied between spoon-fulls of cereal. “In fact, I think it did just the opposite.”
After reflection and another bite of yogurt Melody earnestly remarked “You know I can’t figure it out. I actually despise you, and I’m sure that you despise me. So why do we end up fucking, especially when we argue?”
I swallowed the cereal in my mouth and then replied “I’ve wasted more brain power on this than I would have liked, and I can only come up with one thing. There is some far back Neanderthal part of our brains that doesn’t really intrude into our consciousness that somehow generates an animal magnetism between us. Of course we both know that what we did last night — or the two other times we mated — was not love-making. It was pure, unadulterated fucking. I got no emotional satisfaction from it, but the physical satisfaction was unprecedented in my experience.”
Melody froze with another spoonful of yogurt halfway to her mouth. “I sure as shit don’t have a better explanation. I need to get back to Malcolm. Why don’t you call me sometime today to talk about Malcolm’s party — and maybe something else?”
I agreed, and she left by 8:30 a. m., Malcolm not due to wake from his stupor until at least ten o’clock.
I talked to Melody on the phone later that day. Since we weren’t face-to-face we actually had a rational conversation. She agreed with my note about dividing up responsibility for Malcolm’s party, and then we got to the elephant on the phone line. “Since our all-nighter didn’t cure us do you have a recommendation?” she asked.
I sighed. I really hated myself, but I had to be realistic. “I hate myself for having a recommendation, but I do. Why don’t we use burner phones to plan a liaison about once every seven to ten days at the golf course condo that TTX owns about six miles from your house, eight miles from my office. There are no cameras there, I always know when it is in use since I’m the person in charge of all of TTX’s real estate holdings, and there is on demand — but not regular — maid service.”
“Two hours a liaison?” Melody inquired.
“Sounds right; why don’t you buy us both burner phones the next chance you get and we can meet on the 17th or 18th of this month at the condo, driving separately. You enter through the North entrance and me the South,” I proposed.
After a delay Melody answered “The 17th at noon ok?”
“Yep!”
“See you then,” she signed off.
*********
Malcolm’s party went off without a hitch and everyone had a good time. Melody and I made a point of not interacting except when absolutely necessary. By the time of the party we had had three more fuck sessions and we were to the point that we were able to control our disdain for one another so that we were unlikely to have the type of blowups that we had before.
There was one very strange thing that happened shortly after the party that made me feel slightly better than I normally did because of my ever-present guilt. Malcolm was doing well in his physical rehabilitation to the point that he only used the wheelchair for long distances or rough terrain, and he was also seeing a counselor for emotional problems as a result of his disability. I was the only person (aside from perhaps Melody) that knew about the counselor since Malcolm was very open with me.
I was about to enter a conference room for a meeting with Malcolm when I heard him talking on the phone. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but I almost couldn’t help it since the door was partially open and his back was to me. I knew that it was the counselor by a couple of things he said and then came the lightning bolt: “I may have hinted at it before, but it becomes truer every week. My sex life with Melody since our Stockholm trip has been better than ever — better than I could have dreamed of.”
I silently completely closed the door, waited a few seconds, and then knocked on it before opening it. Malcolm had a big smile on his face, waved me in, and then said “I’ve got to go Norman, but thanks again for your help and listening to my update.”
After the meeting I thought about what Malcolm had said about his sex life. Shockingly Cindy said the same thing about our sex life just a week or so before, also relating its origin to the Stockholm trip.
My ever-present guilt had caused me to try to be the best husband ever to Cindy, and there was no doubt that she was really happy. The same seemed to be true for Malcolm. Those were the only things that kept my guilt from so overwhelming me that I had a nervous breakdown, but I still didn’t have the necessary intestinal fortitude to abandon my relationship with Melody.
I had been fucking Melody on a regular basis roughly every seven to ten days for about six months when several significant things happened and something else bubbled up into my consciousness.
–Cindy gave me the good news that she was pregnant, and the bad news that her mother was experiencing a health crisis that while not life threatening would restrict her movements for several months.
–Malcolm’s physical rehabilitation had gone great and he no longer needed a wheelchair. Also he seemed happy in his marriage although in my opinion he was still too accommodating to Melody.
–Although I still didn’t like Melody, nor she me, one day after an unusually active fornication session, even for us, she figuratively exploded a bomb. “Malcolm and I are talking about having one or more kids. Despite my enmity toward you, from the genes standpoint you’d be a better biological father than Malcolm. Think that you would agree to impregnate me?” [Once I got over my shock I said with as earnest a voice as I could muster “I’ll think about it,” and then left. Hell would freeze over before I would agree to that!]
–I realized that except perhaps accidentally or when so preoccupied with sex that we didn’t realize it, Melody and I had never kissed facial lip-to-facial lip. Why my sudden realization of this detail factored into my outlook I don’t know but it did.
I took a long hard look at myself. I tried to answer each of the four questions that vexed me, and I didn’t like the answers.
1) Can one have a long-term physically satisfying sexual relationship with someone that you detest? Unfortunately, “Yes” and it was damn hard to get out of it, or to explain it even devoting more brain power to the question than one would like. However it sucked your emotional energy out of you.
2) Does having a sexual relationship outside of marriage with someone that you don’t like necessarily mean that you don’t really love or respect your spouse? I knew that I still loved Cindy with all my heart — but my relationship with Melody could not be considered anything but disrespect of Cindy and our marriage, and I hated myself for that.
3) Can having regular sexual liaisons with someone you don’t like allow you to “blow off steam” so that you’re a better worker, lover, spouse, and/or parent than you otherwise would be? In my case it apparently made me a better lover with Cindy and a better worker for Malcolm, but at the cost of my self-image.
4) Can you still honestly believe, maybe even know, that you are not disrespecting someone you hold in high regard and still fuck their detestable spouse? Apparently I could do that to Malcolm, but I hated doing it more and more (I loved the sex with Melody — I hated myself for loving it).
After answering these questions the best that I could I made a decision. It was time to move to the area where Cindy’s parents and siblings lived — to start our family there — to get away from Melody — and to start to heal my self-image which had taken a massive hit since I was disrespecting both Cindy and Malcolm by fucking Melody.
I knew that Malcolm wouldn’t like it, but since he was in a better place physically and emotionally than when I started working for him four years ago, and since I had a ready-made excuse given the health of Cindy’s mother I knew that he would accept my decision without bitterness. Also, in view of my high level of compensation over the last four years Cindy and I would have no financial issues even if I didn’t work for years, but in fact it would be easy for me to get a new job with Malcolm’s recommendation.
Cindy was thrilled with my proposal that we move to her home city.
Malcolm was devastated but understood. I gave a month’s notice and he gave me a severance package that was far too generous as well as the names of CEOs that he knew in Cindy’s home city who I could talk to about a new job.
Melody was unexpectedly sanguine. Her comment — I waited until after I had given her three orgasms courtesy of my mouth, fingers, and cock before telling her — was “I know that you think that I’m just a succubus; but I’ve also dealt with guilt throughout our relationship. I’ll miss the sex, but I won’t miss you or the guilt, and I’m quite sure that I’ll never cheat again.” Given her drama-less approach I agreed to her proposal “Just fuck me one more time on Friday, and we’ll never communicate again.”
*************
It was almost nine months since I left TTX and Melody when I was sitting in my new office — with a job almost as good as the one I had with TTX and with no succubus around — thinking about my life.
Cindy and I had found the perfect house and neighborhood less than ten miles from each of Cindy’s parents, sister, and brother, and we loved the entire area.
Cindy had delivered a little girl two months earlier that made me as happy as anything in my life had before that. I was smitten from the first time that I held her in my arms, and was already lobbying Cindy for another one.
Cindy’s mom had made a remarkable recovery from her illness and was looking forward to a long life. She and her husband were clearly going to be wonderful grandparents.
In my new job I had more time both for Cindy and our little girl, and for exercise, and was in the best physical shape of my life since college.
My guilt for cheating on Cindy and Malcolm was slowly but surely dissipating and I was certain that I would never cheat again. I had dodged a bullet since no one ever found out about me porking Melody, so my relationship with Cindy was fantastic and Malcolm’s respect for me hadn’t been destroyed.
As the last happy thought crossed my mind the mailroom delivered the day’s express packages. There was a confidential FedEx envelope for me with a return address that I didn’t recognize. When I opened the envelope up there was a photo of Melody in a hospital bed holding a baby wrapped in a blue blanket in her arms. The Post-It-Note attached read “That last Friday fuck did it — your biological son is precious. No one will ever know. Cheers, The Succubus.”
When I recovered from the shock I moaned “That fucking bitch,” then put the photo and note through the paper shredder in my office. Now I had to live my life with constant angst hoping that no one would ever find out.
I didn’t like it, but I guess that I deserved it. FUCK!