I, Lance Biggs, am not bad looking — but I was justifiably suspicious when a woman who was a younger version of Elizabeth Hurley by the name of Alicia Spears started to take an interest in me. Based upon looks and intelligence alone she should be with someone like Brad Pitt, George Clooney, or Tom Brady — not someone like me. It took me a while to figure out what was going on, but fortunately I did before shit hit the fan.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
At the time that I met the Elizabeth Hurley look-alike I was 29 years old and had been married for four years to Jaycee Biggs nee Swanson. Although I was a trust fund brat I was also working hard as an entrepreneur running Biggs Alternatives, LLC, a company I started that employed about thirty people and provided socially productive products. Because of my trust fund I had a pre-nuptial agreement with Jaycee. It included a morality/cheating clause that had heavy penalties if either of us violated that clause. My finances were pretty well insulated by the prenup unless I violated the morality clause.
Jaycee is a very attractive woman, 28 years old at the time that Alicia started paying attention to me, although not in Alicia’s class (but then again I had never met anyone live before who was). Jaycee also works — although only part-time as a travel agent. She is a little more materialistic than I thought that she was when we got married, but I enjoyed keeping her happy so I didn’t bitch too much about her excessive spending or her values. She was never mean, great in bed, and easy-going so that was all that I really cared about.
One of my major joys in life is playing competitive tennis. I played Division III (non-scholarship) tennis in college and am pretty good for a club player. I use tennis, weightlifting, and an elliptical if poor weather or jogging if decent weather, to keep in shape, which is very important to me.
Jaycee doesn’t play tennis, although she loves to socialize at the Tennis Club that we belong to. The club has a number of social events each month, a decent restaurant, and a nice swimming pool. Jaycee never goes to the tennis court, however, even to watch me play in the tournaments that we seem to have every couple of months.
I play in singles, doubles, and mixed doubles tournaments. My doubles partner is Jay Feeley, a fifty-something banker who played Division I (scholarship) tennis in college and though when younger was much better than me now is at about the same level that I am and the second ranked over forty male player at the club.
My normal mixed doubles partner is Misty Granger, a thirty eight year old attorney who is usually the fourth ranked under forty women’s singles player at the club (I’m the third ranked under forty male singles player). Misty apparently only does transactions as an attorney, no trial work. Misty is a really special person, cute, friendly, and effervescent. She also has a spectacular ass, but since I was happily married and she seemed to be too I never dwelt on that particular aspect of her persona.
**********
I met Alicia, the Elizabeth Hurley look-alike, with a DD rack, a gorgeous face, flat abs, and thighs and an ass that defied description, at the tennis club that I, Jaycee, Jay, and Misty belong to. Alicia was a recent addition to our club; I never was sure if she was a new member or what we call a tenured-sponsored-guest. Regardless of her exact status most of the times that I was at the tennis club she was there too.
Alicia, who was 28 when I met her, is at almost at the same level in tennis ability as Misty, although she does have one significant handicap. Her big boobs sometimes get in the way of her stroke. Nobody comments on it.
I really don’t know how it happened at the time but for what sounded like a bullshit reason Misty didn’t just bow out of teaming with me in a tournament but in Alicia’s presence suggested that I substitute her as my partner. It would have been embarrassing for everyone if I said “No, Alicia is distracting because she is so hot so if you can’t do it Misty I’ll get someone else.” Therefore I went along — apparently outwardly warmly but inwardly upset — because by then Alicia had increased her attempts to seriously play up to me.
Things got weirder when Misty teamed up with Roger Turner for the tournament. NOBODY ever wanted to play doubles with thirty-something Roger because he is the club asshole. I was as confused as a goat on Astroturf.
Alicia wanted to get in as much practice time as I would agree to. I don’t know what Alicia did for a living but she was essentially always available. She also constantly wanted to socialize afterwards, go to lunch, or some such thing.
I complained to Jaycee about Alicia trying to monopolize my time at the club, and also talked to her about how perplexed I was about Misty teaming up with Roger. Jaycee didn’t seem to take me seriously; she just smiled and said “I’m sure it’s just because you’re nice to everyone and not everyone at the club is nice to Alicia.”
“Why, what problem do people have with her?” I earnestly inquired.
“Well — just between us — a lot of women are jealous of her, and to other women she isn’t as nice as she is to you,” Jaycee replied with a smile.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Because I’m tuned into all gossip at the club,” she laughed.
“Then do you know why Misty dropped me and then hooked up with Roger?”
“That I have no clue about,” Jaycee smiled.
I generally went along with the flow as far as Alicia was concerned, but when Alicia started calling me at work I knew that something wasn’t kosher. That was confirmed in spades when after a practice session on a hot day she insisted that we go to the pool to cool off. The bikini she “almost” had on left nothing to the imagination; fortunately there were no children around. Her body would make any hetero male salivate; there were a number of tented swim trunks there. It was then that I finally determined that I needed to be proactive to find out what the fuck was going on.
I tried to confront Misty about why she dropped me for Roger, but she was strangely hard to get to. It wasn’t until after the third round of the tournament that I cornered her. Alicia and I had beaten her and Roger 6-2, 6-1 and she was scurrying out of the club shortly afterward. I was on to her, however, and rather than showering after the match or joining Alicia for lunch — which she begged me to go to — I caught Misty in the parking lot.
I was sitting on the fender of Misty’s BMW 8 Series Convertible when she tried to sneak away. She sighed when she saw me, and her shoulders drooped. She was not smiling when I approached.
Misty is in remarkable shape for a 38 year old. Her face isn’t beautiful but it is extremely interesting and refined, she is as smart as anyone I’ve ever me, and she always dresses classy. Her tennis outfits are the most elegant at the club (and intentionally or not really show off her perfect ass). She and I had known each other for five years before that day, and had been mixed doubles partners in six previous tournaments including two at other clubs.
“OK, Misty, what gives?” I sternly asked as I rose to my full height of six feet three inches and peered down at her five foot six inch frame.
“Uh…what…what do you…uh mean, Lance?” she stuttered. That told me something right there — Misty is as articulate as any woman I have ever met so if she was stuttering she was nervous.
“What I mean is why the bogus reason for not partnering with me, pushing Alicia on me, and then partnering with the club asshole. It doesn’t make sense. We’ve always had a good relationship,” I said with my arms crossed.
“Uh…well…uh…Alicia asked me to do it. She almost begged. She said that she wanted to win the tournament and that her best chance was with you,” Misty responded, again with the stuttering.
“Bullshit,” I responded, still with my arms crossed. “You could just have told her to forget it; you didn’t have to go along.”
Misty furtively looked in all directions, and then mumbled “Get in my car.”
I got in the passenger’s side, she the driver’s side, and then with another surreptitious look around peeled out of the parking lot.
Without either of us talking she drove a couple of miles and then into the parking lot of a community recreation center and parked in the shade.
Obviously nervous she turned to me and said “My husband Harris didn’t like it that my partner was a good-looking younger guy. He thought that we might have something going on, so he pressured me to get another partner.”
While Misty was certainly someone that I would love to fuck if we weren’t both married we had never had even a flirtatious relationship with each other the last five years, let alone a sparks-flying one. I stared at her for a good minute. She couldn’t hold eye contact. “Bullshit,” I said.
Surprisingly she started quietly sobbing. I always considered her a tough cookie so actually her tears were more than surprising. I softly held her shoulders until she looked at me then put one hand on her chin to gently preclude her from looking away.
“OK, Misty, I know that there is something big. Let me tell you first that I am the person you know who is best able to keep a secret. If you tell me the truth I guarantee that no one will ever find out your secret from me, and I’ll do everything in my power to help you out. Trust me!”
She lightly sobbed a little more, then wiped the tears from her face, and sighed. “Do you promise not to judge me?”
“I promise,” I responded.
“Do you promise to still stay my friend?”
“I’ll be the most loyal friend you’ve ever had,” I retorted.
After another deep sigh she said “I don’t know how Alicia found out but I have something in my past that threatens my license to practice law — I’ll leave it at that. It would really be bad for me at work if my law firm found out — and it would also be bad for my marriage, which seems to be on life support right now due to some things I’ve recently found out about Harris.” That statement surprised me but I tried not to show it as she continued. “Please let me leave it at that.”
I didn’t like where this was going, but I saw no reason to cause Misty any more angst so I said “Sure — I don’t need details.”
Misty continued: “Alicia promised not to tell anyone if I dropped out as your doubles partner and put her forward as the alternative.”
Now I was really confused. After staring into space for a full minute my brain started working again and I asked “So she is blackmailing you! Why would she do that?”
“I really don’t know,” Misty replied, “but for some reason she seems to have a thing for you.”
“I don’t understand that,” I return-replied. “She could bed almost any guy that she wanted to — why me?”
“I don’t know,” Misty said. “Some people just have a thing for other people that isn’t rationally explainable. I mean you’re certainly a great and good-looking guy but…”
I finished the sentence for her “But I’m not in her class as far as looks are concerned.”
“Nobody I know of is,” Misty sighed.
“Thanks, Misty,” I smiled, giving her a kiss on her forehead. “Your secret is safe with me, and if there’s something I can do to help you, let me know. I’m not just saying that; I really mean it.”
“Thanks, Lance,” she said with her first smile of the day. “Can I drop you back off at the club?”
“Just get me a couple of hundred yards away from the entrance and I’ll walk the rest of the way,” I smiled in return. She did drop me off.
“Thanks again,” I said, giving her another kiss on her forehead.
**********
My father’s philosophy has always been “If you have money you should use it to solve problems, whether they be society’s or your own.” I rarely looked at things that way, but this was the appropriate time to adopt that attitude. So it came to be that I hired a large private detective firm to do a deep dive on Alicia Spears.
While the prestigious PI firm that I had hired was doing their deep dive — which included following Alicia for a week and monitoring all of her devices although not yet outside the bounds of the law — I maintained my relationship with her. That primarily meant that we played tennis about every third day and tournament games both weekend days. She was getting very touchy-feely and if I wasn’t suspicious I could not have resisted her. Did I mention that she was the sexiest woman possible — at least for my tastes?
Since Alicia was a great distraction for the male members of the teams we competed against in mixed doubles she was a valuable team member way above her tennis acumen. We had won all seven of our matches by the time that I received the PI firm’s report. The firm’s top female operative, Constance Fregeau, accompanied by Sam Curtain, one of their IT guys, gave me the report.
“I have a series of photos showing Alicia Spears’ activities over the last week,” Constance started out, laying out about two dozen photos on the conference room table at my office. “Maybe you recognize some of the people she met with. One woman — who we haven’t been able to identify — she met with three times,” Constance continued, pointing to several photos on the top row of prints, “and some anonymous guy also three times, including once with the anonymous woman included,” she continued pointing to photos on the bottom row.
Things started to come into focus when I looked carefully at those photos. The woman in question was none other than my darling wife Jaycee in a poor disguise. The man was John Davis my employee in charge of our IT equipment at Biggs Alternatives, LLC, with no disguise.
There were now a wide variety of ways to handle this. #1 was for me to aggressively confront all involved.
I don’t need to go into the other ways since I’m a take charge, in-your-face, dude. The only question was who to confront first. I considered John the weak link so he was first on the agenda.
The rest of the PI firm’s report was also revealing. They heard just enough of some conversations and saw enough documents so that they had a good fix that confirmed what I was now expecting, which was also confirmed by what they could find out about Alicia’s past history. I authorized their IT guy Sam to bug Jaycee’s phone — I paid the bills for it — and I also asked either he, or an expert that he recommended, do an evaluation of my company’s entire IT system.
When Andy, the expert that Sam recommended, showed up the next morning at my office I introduced him to John and told John that he was the representative of a customer who we would be doing lots of business with so he should take the entire morning to bring him up to date on all of our systems. John looked a little piqued but I didn’t give a shit. He would be way more than piqued before the day was over.
After lunch I met with Andy and he told me that he and one associate of his, with the help of our most experienced IT employee besides John, could do a complete analysis of our system within 48 hours. I wrote him a check and told him to go for it.
Once Andy left my office I called John in. He still looked a little upset with the task I had assigned him that morning so I decided to hit him between the eyes. After I made a production of locking the door so that he could not open it and escape I started in.
“First of all John give me your office keys, key cards, office cellphone, and all other firm materials,” I said, holding out my hand. He started to protest but my look shut him up and he complied.
“Second, Andy, the guy you took around today, is an IT expert who I’ve hired to completely inspect and overhaul our system. You will not come to work for any reason while he and his associate are doing that, understood?”
John sheepishly nodded his head.
“Third, John, in the next hour I’m going to find out what the fuck is going on with you. How you handle yourself the next hour will likely determine whether you still have a job here, whether you will be blackballed in the state, whether you will go to jail, whether your marriage will fail, and/or whether I will kick the shit out of you.”
John’s pique deserted him quickly, and was replaced by a forlorn look and a sweaty brow.
I tossed a first photo of him and Alicia at him. “How the fuck do you know this woman?”
“Uh…well…” he started stammering before an idea seemed to click in his head and he said “I just ran into her at a restaurant last week. I really don’t know her except that her name is Alicia.”
“Wrong!” I yelled and cuffed him on the back of his head — not too hard, but not gentle either. Then I tossed the second photo onto his lap. “This is from a different day last week; and I have more,” I said with a diabolical grin holding several other photos in my hand that he couldn’t see. “Now start telling the truth.’
John almost started to cry; and then did when I tossed the photo of him, Jaycee and Alicia together. Then he more or less blubbered out what probably was the truth. He prefaced it with “I couldn’t help it, Lance. Alicia is so sexy I just couldn’t resist her. After I fucked her once she had me by the gonads and threatened to show my wife the photos of us fucking which would ruin my entire family’s life. I have two little kids you know,” he got out before he started blubbering some more.
I just stood over him with my arms crossed (and my digital tape recorder going) as he continued his story over the next 45 minutes or so. The bottom line was that Alicia had been hired by Jaycee and John was tasked with finding out all of the financial information Biggs Alternatives, LLC had and putting in a bug that if activated could cede control to anyone with the proper password. Since most of my personal financial files were also in the system John was also tasked with finding a way to access them so that they could also be taken over, so most of my financial holdings would be at risk.
“You were going to betray me for one fuck with Alicia and the blackmail threat?” I snapped when he was finished talking.
“No…well…Alicia fucked me a few more times — she’s a goddess — to give me a carrot in addition to a stick, and she and Jaycee convinced me that you were doing illegal things and that I might even eventually get a monetary reward for helping them.”
I grabbed John by the throat squeezing hard enough so that he knew that I could crush his larynx with just a little more pressure, then got my nose within an inch of his and said “You’re suspended for a week. Get the fuck out and don’t come back. You are to tell no one about our conversation. If either Jaycee or Alicia contact you fake illness and even go to a private hospital and check yourself in if you have to, but do not meet with them and do not discuss anything with them. Got it?”
Since he couldn’t talk due to the pressure of my thumb on his throat he nodded agreement. I released him, and as I opened the door I said “I’ll still pay you for the next week, what happens after that to be determined. Now remember what I said and get the fuck out,” I snarled. I couldn’t resist kicking him in the ass, and causing him to crash into the hallway wall, as he exited.
************
After the episode with John I was proud of my thespian abilities over the next 48 hours while Andy analyzed our IT system. I played another tennis match with Alicia — which we won — and even had some body contact with her afterwards; and I was as pleasant as could be to Jaycee, even eating her to three orgasms one night before I fucked her comatose.
Once I got the report from Andy about what had been done to my company’s computer system and the inroads into accessing my person financial data I hired his associate for the next two weeks to do everything necessary to repair any damage and to harden the system so that only I could access critical information. Now it was time for my confrontation with Alicia.
Sunday afternoon I gave Alicia the first real encouragement since she had been flirting with me. I suggested that Sunday afternoon we go to a cabin I owned in the woods about 45 minutes from the tennis club. She was bubbly on the trip, occasionally putting her hand on my thigh. However, when as soon as we entered the cabin I cuffed both of her hands over her head to a chin-up bar I used for exercise her attitude changed. She tried to make light of it by saying “I didn’t realize that you’re so kinky,” but it was clear that she was worried.
“I’m not kinky, I’m pissed,” I snarled. “Tell me exactly what Jaycee has hired you to do.”
Alicia must either be a good actress or a sociopath because in as earnest a voice as possible she said “Jaycee didn’t hire me to do anything. I barely know her.”
“Really, then why did you meet with her three times last week?” I asked showing her photos of all three meetings.
“Uh — we just ran into each other,” she replied, now not as confident in her ability to lie.
“Why did one meeting include John, my ex head IT guy?” I continued, shoving a photo including him and Jaycee into her face.
“Uh, I was just introduced to him and he left, I don’t know anything about him.”
“You didn’t find out anything about him even when you were fucking him and then blackmailing him?” I asked, pretending that I was shocked.
“Uh…I…well…didn’t…” the previously composed Alicia started to stutter. I cut her off.
“You’re not leaving here until you tell me the truth. I’m going to shackle your legs to the wall, tape your mouth, and leave you for an hour. When I come back you better start talking otherwise I’ll leave you like that overnight — and then as long as it takes to accomplish my goals.”
When I started shackling her legs she asked “Can I at least go to the bathroom first?”
Without interrupting my activity I said “No, pee or shit your pants.”
As I started to put duct tape over her mouth she said “All right…” but I didn’t let her finish as I firmly taped her mouth.
“I want to be sure that you’re ready to tell the truth so save it for when I come back in an hour,” I snarled.
She started making muffled sounds and pulled on her cuffs, however I didn’t acknowledge her but merely left.
When I came back an hour and five minutes later she was weeping. I removed the tape from her mouth. “Please, please let me go to the washroom I swear that I’ll tell you the truth,” she sobbed.
I released her except for the handcuff on her left wrist, and cuffed the other half to my right wrist and marched her toward the bathroom. “Can’t I get some privacy?” she whined.
“No,” I snapped.
She really did have to go. I learned something that day; even someone as sexy as Alicia has stinky shit.
After I re-handcuffed her to the chin-up bar Alicia told all — to a camera (two actually, one straight on, another profile). As I suspected by then Jaycee had hired her to seduce me and John so that she could get maximum money from a divorce and make sure that I couldn’t hide any assets, and to provide the threat of ruining my financial system if I didn’t play ball.
Although this is what I expected I was really sad. I thought that Jaycee really loved me. When I asked Alicia about Jaycee’s motivation she had no answer — except greed.
As I released Alicia I said “You do know that you could be prosecuted for blackmail and conspiracy to commit fraud, don’t you?”
She lethargically nodded her head.
“How much has Jaycee paid you?”
“$50,000 so far,” she sighed.
I wondered how Jaycee had been able to hide that expenditure from me. Anyway I continued. “How much more does she owe you?”
“$10,000 plus if she is successful $100,000.”
“Well she’s not going to be successful. We’ll go to my office now, you’ll detail all of the payments Jaycee made to you in an affidavit, I’ll give you a check for the other $10,000 and you’ll leave town; got it?”
“I have to close out my apartment…” she started to say when I interrupted.
“Get what you need for a week to take with you, give me an address of where to send your stuff, and I’ll have it shipped to you.”
She was surprised by that.
After we took care of the affidavit and check at my office I drove her to her apartment. As she was getting out of my car she smiled and said “Now that things are concluded would you like a goodbye fuck?”
I stared at her like she had three heads. Her smile turned into a frown before I said “No thanks; and make sure that you don’t do anything that will cause me to report you to the police.”
She got out and sashayed away.
**************
Immediately after dropping Alicia off I went home. Jaycee was pulling in at the same time. With a perplexed look on her face she said “I thought that you would be gone until late tonight.”
“You thought wrong, bitch,” I snarled.
“What’s with the attitude…” she started to say before I cut her off.
“Your co-conspirators, John and Alicia, have given you up bitch. Get what you need for a week and get the fuck out. I’ll have you served tomorrow or Tuesday,” I snarled with my nose an inch from hers.
After initial shock she seemed like she was steeling herself and squeaked out “I live here too you can’t…”
“Yes I can; the trust that I am the sole trustee of owns this house as you acknowledged when you signed the prenup and we moved in; I’m kicking you out. You have one hour and then I’m calling the cops,” I snapped.
Jaycee was gone from my house — and my life — within fifty nine minutes. She was served Tuesday and the terms of the divorce set forth in the prenup were included in the divorce papers. I would have let things proceed like that without further recriminations for her except that she did something vile.
***********
Alicia and I forfeited the last two games of the tournament, but since we were 8-0 before then we still came in second — BFD.
After the tournament was over one Saturday morning I saw Misty walking out of the club house carrying a duffle bag and her four tennis rackets with a hang-dog look on her face. I stopped her.
“What’s going on Misty?”
There was a tear in her eye when she said “Jaycee apparently thought that since you and I were friends she could hurt you by revealing my secret even though I did what Alicia said. I’ve been fired and can’t afford the next six months dues especially since Harris and I are splitting up because of some criminal things that he did and my life is in turmoil now.”
I was livid — Misty could see the steam coming out of my ears. “Are you alright Lance?” she asked with real concern in her voice.
“Bring your stuff back to your locker, Misty and then come with me to the office.”
“But…” she started to say.
“No ‘but’ involved. Do as I say,” I continued and then gently grabbed her arm and led her back into the clubhouse. She made a few more words of protest but she could tell by the look in my eye that resistance was futile. I waited for her outside of the women’s locker room while she returned her stugg, took her by the hand, and marched with her to the office. Although not normally in on the weekends, the club supervisor — Nancy Greg — was there.
“Hi Nancy,” I said, shaking her hand. “There seems to be some sort of a mix-up with Misty’s account. For now charge her next six months dues to my credit card and within the next few weeks we’ll sort it out,” I said, handing her my credit card. “There’s a mixed doubles tournament at Club Westover next month and I need my old partner back,” I smiled by way of explanation.
Nancy called her assistant over who handled the transaction. I could see that Misty still wanted to protest but didn’t want to at the same time.
I walked Misty to her car where she thanked me and then buried her head in my chest and quietly cried for a couple of minutes while I stroked her head. When she regained her composure I opened the door for her. “Can we practice tomorrow?” I asked.
“Would 11:00 a. m. be OK?” she inquired.
“I’ll sign up now. One more thing, I really meant it when we last talked and I said that I’d do anything to help you. Those are not just words; they’re a promise.”
She smiled, and then swung her bubble butt into the driver’s seat — not that I was focusing on that.
We had a great practice session the next day and then had a pleasant lunch with three other club members.
Monday I was on the warpath. I demanded a meeting with Jaycee — the first time that I’d see her since I booted her out — at my attorney’s office. When she got there on Wednesday I presented her and her attorney with all of the basic information I had about her conspiracy with John and Alicia.
“This isn’t criminal behavior,” her attorney harangued after reviewing it.
“Maybe the D A’s office will agree with you,” I shot back, “But we will find out, and in any event I’ll sue your client in civil court and will take no prisoners.”
Jaycee looked shaken. “What do you want?” she meekly asked.
“Well, since you had to be vindictive and got Misty Granger fired I want the property settlement that we previously agreed to revised so that your monetary compensation is cut in half,” I grinned.
“Now see here…” Jaycee’s attorney started to say before I cut him off.
“You have two days to decide. Then I go to the D A’s office and file a civil suit. I think that with John’s testimony alone — he has to stay in my good graces if he ever wants another job in his field in this area — I will prevail.”
Then I got up and walked out.
By Friday she had agreed to my proposal.
**********
As the divorce proceeded –now smoothly, it was only a matter of time since all issues had been worked out — I was still bummed about why Jaycee had done what she had. I never could bring myself to ask her though since I loathed being in her presence. Then something else came up that took my mind off of that issue.
Misty called me at night about a week after my meeting with Jaycee. After some small talk she asked “Did you really mean it that you’d help me out?”
“I never meant anything more in my life,” I chuckled.
“Can I come over in ten or fifteen minutes?”
“I’ll leave the light on for you,” I replied.
Misty did show up about fifteen minutes later. I gave her a hug and offered her a glass of wine. She accepted and we sat at my kitchen table.
“I’m so embarrassed, Lance. During my divorce proceedings I found out that Harris lied about our finances the entire last two years. In addition to some criminal acts he’s gambled all our money away. He’s taken off for parts unknown which at least will facilitate the divorce, but the bank is about to repossess my house. I know that you’ve got at least three guest rooms; could I live in one of them until I get a job and get back on my feet?”
I had to suppress the lascivious thoughts that flashed through my brain when she asked that. I had always liked Misty and thought that she was cute and — well she did have that great ass — but I never considered her “mate” material before. Now everything in my life was different. I didn’t think that it was fair to her for me to look at her like that when she was going through hard times and I didn’t want to take advantage of her — but I also could not refuse her desperate request. As I responded I vowed to keep my lascivious thoughts in check.
“Sure, Misty. I told you that I’d help you and I will. When do you want to move in?”
“Well I’m having a yard sale this weekend and the bank wants me to turn over things to them next week. Would next Monday be OK?”
“Sure,” I said, smiling, and squeezing her hand.
“Also, I’m selling my expensive BMW convertible and getting a cheaper and more practical car. Do you have any suggestions?”
We had a pleasant conversation for the next hour. We hugged goodbye, which again caused me to have to suppress my lascivious thoughts.
That weekend I helped Misty with her yard sale on Saturday, and we played in the first round in a tournament at Club Westover on Sunday morning and won. Sunday afternoon I went with her to sell her BMW and get a basic Honda, which netted her about $10,000 (enough to pay off some other debts) after she paid off her car loan. Monday I had everything that she didn’t sell but wanted to keep put into a small storage unit, and Wednesday she moved into one of the guest rooms.
Saturday night we went out to celebrate our new living arrangement. It was nice to have someone else living with me since I didn’t like living alone.
Our “nice” living arrangement changed drastically when we got home just before midnight. I had never really seen Misty drink much alcohol before, but she did that night, apparently more than her 120 pound body could properly assimilate because although she wasn’t really drunk she was feeling no pain.
After we made some coffee we sat in the living room to chat. After about five minutes she drained her cup and then came and sat on my lap. As she stared into my soul, and much as my eyes, she mumbled “You know that I’d be helpless if you wanted to take advantage of me. There’s no way that little ole’ me could fight a big brute like you off. You could rip my clothes off, abuse my tits, play with my pussy, and then fuck my brains out and I’d just have to take it. Then you could tie me to your headboard and do anything you wanted to me and all that I could do would be to beg you to stop. I’m completely at your mercy.”
Every word that she said, with her perfect ass overlaying my cock, caused my dick to inflate a little bit more. By the time that she had finished her soliloquy and stuck her tongue in my ear I was rock hard. Then for the first time in my life I acted like a cave man and did exactly what she predicted that I could do.
I almost felt bad about destroying her beautiful blouse and skirt when I ripped them off; “almost.” That feeling was quickly replaced by one of lust, however, when I took her into my arms and kissed her all over as I removed her bra and panties. In my mind her nipples tasted like honey as I sucked on one, and twisted the other, as Misty moaned between her snivels that I was an animal.
When I pinned her shoulders on a couch cushion her moist vagina was in full display. I swear that she came the second that my tongue hit her clit. As she writhed around on the couch my cock was begging me to give it some relief. I’m not really sure how my pants and boxers got around my ankles, but I’ll never forget how with one powerful thrust I buried my cock in her tight, but lubricated, pussy while she was still in the throes of orgasm from my licks of her clit.
As I furiously pumped into and out of her saturated pussy she moaned, twisted, and bucked in continuous orgasm. My ejaculation was powerful enough to power-wash a driveway and her scream as my jism flooded her cooch was ear splitting.
My release — my first fuck in months, and the most intense that I could remember — fried my circuits; hers too I think, because we just lay together for a long time, trembling as each aftershock hit but otherwise almost motionless.
Eventually we regained complete awareness and we glared into each other’s eyes. “You’re a fucking animal,” she moaned as she placed a few quick kisses on my lips.
“You’re prime pussy,” I mumbled in between my kisses returning hers. “Time for some more fun,” I cackled.
I pushed myself into a standing position, rid my feet of my shoes and yanked my boxers and pants off my legs, and popped all the buttons on my shirt as I tore it off — all the while staring at her exposed pussy which was oozing cum.
Once I was completely naked I lifted her off the couch. The ease with which I lifted her told me that adrenaline was coursing through my veins like the Amazon after a rainstorm. I took the stairs two at a time as she clung tightly to my neck and kept sticking her tongue in my ear.
After I tossed Misty onto my bed I pulled two neckties off a rack in my closet and tied her hands to the headboard. “Please don’t tie me up and have your way with me,” she kept repeating, akin to Brer Rabbit moaning “Please don’t throw me in that there briar patch!”
I massaged, man-handled, sucked, and abused every part of her body for the next half hour while my cock came back to life. Then I put her calves on my shoulders and slowly but definitively entered her pussy, still soaked with my jism. This time I leisurely fucked her as she squirmed beneath me uttering unintelligible sounds until an orgasm hit her with the power of a cyclone. As she was writhing I couldn’t hold back any longer and again filled her vagina as I grunted and she wailed.
I untied Misty and the next hour or so we kissed, rolled around, man-handled each other’s private parts, and simply unhurriedly enjoyed ourselves. Then she suddenly slithered down to my crotch, sucked me hard within seconds, and soon thereafter I was penetrating her while she was in the concubine position.
In the concubine position her consummate ass garnered my attention. As I laid pipe I kneaded her ass with both hands. The combination of the pipe-laying and kneading apparently gave her a continuous orgasm which reached a crescendo when I ejaculated into her for the third time that night while simultaneously burying my thumb in her asshole.
I saw stars, and Roman candles exploding; she seemed to also.
My brain must have been flooded with endorphins because I don’t remember how we ended up in each other’s arms, covered by a blanket and sheet; but that’s how we woke up the next morning. As we stared into each other’s eyes, ignoring our mutually awful breath, I said “That was the most fun that I’ve ever had in my life.”
Misty’s eyes got wide, and her eyes misty (ha, ha), before she smiled and said “That’s the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.”
We kissed, decided that our breath really was bad, brushed our teeth and then went to the kitchen to eat breakfast — nude. As I toasted some bread and Misty scrambled some eggs she looked at the clock. “It’s already almost 10:45 and we have a match at 1 p. m. We’re going to be worthless,” she chuckled.
“Yeah, but it was sure worth it,” I smiled as I kissed her while pinching her ass.
We might have actually been in decent shape for the match if it weren’t for our shower fuck before we left. That really drained both of us. We lost the first set 6-1. Although Misty still seemed to be lethargic I was just starting to rally, and we were tied 3-3 in the second set when she pulled on my shirt so that my ear was near her face and mumbled “Your cum is still leaking down my thighs, you bastard.”
After that all that I could think of was sex with Misty and we lost the second set 6-3 to a team that we should have beaten 6-2, 6-2.
After we shook hands with the other team I plopped down on a bench just outside the court. Misty came and sat on my lap with her arms around my neck. “You just had to have that shower fuck, didn’t you, you animal,” she grinned and then lightly bit my nose.
“I didn’t notice you resisting you evil slut sorceress,” I grinned back.
“I guess you’re right,” she grinned again, gave me a quick kiss, stood up and said “Now I need a nap; take me home, James.”
“Yes ma’am,” I replied.
We did take a nap; but only after she rode me to another earth-shattering orgasm.
***********
Things moved along smoothly for Misty and I the next several weeks. She no longer made any pretense of living in a guest room; rather she just moved her clothes and toiletries into the master bedroom where Jaycee’s stuff used to be.
For some reason we never came close to having a serious discussion. We both were enjoying each other’s company so much — whether we were having sex, on outings, playing tennis, or just sitting together while reading a book or watching TV — that it seemed that neither of us wanted to rock the boat. That doesn’t mean that I wasn’t thinking about the future — and I’m sure that she was too — it’s just that we were afraid to verbalize things.
Fortunately, with intervention by my father and me, Misty was able to find a job as a paralegal. She made noises about paying me rent. I made light of it by saying that her carnal services were rent enough. “You haughty bastard,” she fake yelled, playfully punching me on the chest — that is until I wrestled her onto the bed and once again had my way with her.
I’m not sure how long things would have proceeded with neither of us making the move to have a serious discussion when about six or seven weeks after she moved in with me she started throwing up in the morning. At breakfast the second morning that it happened– which I was eating but she was only picking at — I playfully asked “You are on the pill, aren’t you?”
“No; but I can’t be pregnant. Several years ago, before I knew that he was a gambler and criminal, Harris and I were trying to have a baby without any luck. We went to a specialist and I was told that I couldn’t have kids.”
She then started to explain the biology or physiology of the situation but I stopped her. “TMI,” I laughed. “Still, I think that you need to go see your OB/GYN.”
“No, it’s nothing,” she said; but I wasn’t taking that as an answer.
I stopped at the drugstore on my way home that night, and bought all three brands of home pregnancy test kits that they had. When I presented them to Misty she turned red with embarrassment. “I told you that I’m not pregnant,” she said.
“So you don’t mind testing with these kits to prove it to me, do you?”
We had a discussion — not an argument, so far we had never argued — for a few more minutes before she agreed just to get me off her back.
She came out of the bathroom ten minutes later with her lower lip quivering. “I can’t believe it,” she mumbled. I took the test devices from her. One had a very bold + sign, one had very bold double slashes, and the third had “pregnant” in bold letters.
She started crying and buried her head in my shoulder. “Now you’ll kick me out; you don’t want a fat old woman nine years older than you are ruining your life,” she sobbed.
Within seconds my mind was clear; weeks of kicking the can down the road, rather than having a serious discussion with Misty, coalesced into a decision. I started laughing.
Misty pushed away from me and cried “Why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not laughing at you,” I smiled, pulled her into me and kissed her hard. After I broke the kiss I said “I’m laughing because I finally realize the truth. I love you and I desperately want to have a baby with you; and if you’ll have me, I want to marry you.”
She looked at me funny, wiped some tears away, and then inquired “You really mean that?”
“You bet your perfect ass that I do,” I laughed, picking her up and twirling her around.
Her tears had barely dried before she was lying on her back on the kitchen table and my cock was reciprocating in her pussy at 60 mph while I was mauling her tits.
***********
Since that day eight years ago that she found out that she was pregnant Misty has cranked out four kids. Having four kids seven years old or younger is a real challenge, but we love it. She loves being a stay-at-home mom, which I’m grateful for, and we love our life together — and each other. When we can get multiple sitters for the kids we still play mixed doubles together, but no longer in tournaments.
Every day I thank my enigmatic deceptive ex-wife Jaycee, and her co-conspirator sexpot Alicia, for unknowingly making me the happiest dude in the state!