An adult stories – Greg’s Best Day by SouthernCrossfire,SouthernCrossfire As Jill recovered from her illness, she promised me a time I’d never forget!
© SouthernCrossfire – 2024. All rights reserved.
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It was Monday, but my mind wasn’t on work.
No, I was thinking of something else. I was thinking of how it was going to be the best day.
In comparison, the previous Thursday had sucked. Work was work but when I got home hoping for a good time with Jill, my wife of nearly twenty years, she met me with the bad news.
“Gregory, I’m sorry but I’m still feeling like crap. The antibiotic that Dr. Wylder gave me hasn’t seemed to help a bit so I’m going back tomorrow to see if she can give me something else.”
“So you don’t feel like having a little fun tonight?”
She gave a little sigh and rolled her eyes. “Fun for you maybe if I don’t pass this bug along to you. I’m sorry, honey, but I can’t.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. Say, why don’t you go to bed early and get some rest. I’ll clean up downstairs and be up in a little while.”
She’d been sick and moody for almost two weeks, so while I wanted to help her and help with the household chores because I loved her, I wasn’t being entirely altruistic. After the dishes were washed, the scheduled household chores were finished, and Jill was in bed, I was able to go down to the basement and take care of a bit of my frustration with the help of a point-of-view video starring a bleach blonde with really nice tits, strong thighs, and a great looking pussy. Her eyes caressed the camera as if it was her lover as she fucked the lucky bastard whose body stood in for that of the viewer.
Then came Friday, of course, which was good only because it was the end of the work week. When I got home hoping that Jill would be feeling better and in the mood for a good time for a change, she said, “Dr. Wylder gave me a different antibiotic and said for me to monitor my progress.”
“Think we can—”
“No. She said for me to get plenty of rest to let it kick in, hopefully by Sunday but she was sure it would be working by Monday at the latest. If it’s not and I’m not feeling better by Monday morning, she wants me back there for a full battery of tests because it could be something worse. She doesn’t think it will come to that, but it’s still a little scary.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” I said, worried about her but not telling her I was feeling almost as sorry for my lack of action as I was for her.
I love Jill but I tend to be a selfish bastard.
It was a redhead in the video later on Friday night. I swear, I think her tits were even nicer than the blonde’s on Thursday and the freckles on her face and across her chest and breasts were practically hypnotic as they moved to her motions. With Jill asleep upstairs, I took it slow and steady, giving myself a delicious buildup as I watched her ride, imagining the motions, the feel, and the coming release.
When it came—well, they don’t call it coming for nothing. As for those enticing freckles, oh, the dots I could have connected for her as my huge ropes flew in the basement bathroom. The pearl necklace with which I could have graced her! Still, my balls told me it wasn’t nearly enough.
And then I realized what I’d done and had to clean the fucking bathroom!
Yeah, Friday actually sucked too.
Saturday, on the other hand, had been a very good day. I met some friends for a round of golf at 7:45 a.m. and then, with Jill out of commission, I headed home to put my main plans for the day into action.
Those plans centered on Elaina Muñoz, the brunette with big knockers from a few doors down, and easing my ongoing frustrations that the blonde and redheaded video stars hadn’t quite taken care of despite the temporary relief. With her husband and kids having gone to see his parents, Elaina was available for the afternoon and she told me she was looking forward to making the most of it.
Elaina had been unhappy in her marriage to Manuel, a former single-A baseball player who now worked primarily from home as a product marketing representative when he wasn’t visiting clients. Like so many athletes who have trouble adjusting their caloric intake and exercise level after retiring, Mani had put on a lot of weight over the ten years of their marriage, and Elaina wasn’t pleased with him or where she feared they were going together if he didn’t change. So far, he’d resisted her efforts and her nagging, which was probably at least part of the reason he’d seized the opportunity to get away from it all for a little while.
Like Elaina with Mani, I loved my wife but I’d become somewhat bored with my marriage and needed something more. Jill had been so much fun, so affectionate, during the early years of our marriage, but after we decided to not have children, she slowly changed, becoming more focused on her career and less focused on me and on continuing the fun times we’d had in the past. I missed that and it weighed heavily on me over time.
With the two of us at least somewhat displeased with the situation at our respective homes, Elaina and I had grown closer over the past three years since they’d moved into the neighborhood. Elaina laughingly claimed that her situation was worse in that Mani mostly drank beer, belched and farted, and then fucked her for fun whereas I ran and golfed to stay in great shape and got to fuck her for fun and fuck Jill for the practice.
Whenever Jill would let me, anyway.
Elaina was in her mid-30s, with an olive skin tone, dark hair, and almost-black eyes that reflected her Hispanic background and sometimes fiery temper that was usually directed at Mani. However, she had a ready smile at times, a frequently generous laugh, and a rather insatiable appetite in bed. Having given birth to four children and having to work at a desk job outside of the home, Elaina also had a generous ass and nice-sized tits that had probably produced countless gallons of milk over the years.
While definitely not wanting any rugrats of my own, I almost hoped that Mani would knock her up again while Elaina and I were involved so I could have a sample. The thought, which had become more frequent in recent days since Jill’s illness had put her off limits, made my toes curl and my dick as hard as steel.
Telling Jill goodbye, I said that I was going to the office to catch up on some claims and would be home around 6 o’clock or so on Saturday evening. And just like that, I was off to continue the heated affair that Elaina and I had begun about six months before. I’d lost track of the number of times since starting that we’d pulled the wool over the eyes of our spouses, making up excuses that were never questioned, that were always believed.
This time, I turned off my cell as I pulled out of our driveway and then parked my car a few blocks away behind a business that was closed on Saturdays. The car was safe there and I knew it wouldn’t be seen. It was a relatively warm but windy day in late March but I didn’t want to be recognized by anyone in the neighborhood, so I slipped my plain black hoodie on and flipped the hood up before exiting the car and walking back to our street. I made my way straight up Elaina’s drive, through her garage, and into her arms.
“Oh, lover, you’ve come. Now, get ready because I’m going to make you do just that,” she said with a grin.
She pushed me back against the kitchen counter, her tongue probing my mouth, as her hands unfastened my belt. My pants fell away and she dropped to her knees before me.
“Oh, yeah!” she practically squealed. While Mani and I were both within an inch or so of 6-feet tall, he had about seventy or eighty really unneeded pounds on me. Elaina had told me in the past that she liked that my belly didn’t get in the way when she needed my cock.
With the path clear and my cock hard, it was in her mouth and down her throat in seconds. As I gave a sigh and enjoyed the sensations, I knew my little subterfuge with my wife would be well worth it once again.
Elaina’s pretty under usual circumstances but at no risk of winning any beauty contests; however, when she’s on her knees in front of me and her head’s going up and down on my rod, she’s about the most beautiful woman imaginable and I tell her that in no uncertain terms.
She loved my encouragement and I loved what she was doing to me, bobbing up and down, shallow and deep, kissing, licking, and stroking me, making me tingle and my balls yearn to explode. As ready as I was, it didn’t take her long before I couldn’t control it and had to let it fly. When I did, she found herself happily gulping what felt like a quart of my pent-up spunk.
She often tells me that Mani takes her for granted, so whenever we’re together, I keep the praise coming so she’ll do anything for me and so I can keep fulfilling her needs. This time, I was gripping the counter to steady myself as I pulsed and fought to keep my knees from collapsing. Then, as she milked the last dabs from my length and sucked me clean, I praised her, saying, “Good God, Elaina, you’re really wonderful and so fucking good at that. That’s made me feel better than I’ve felt since our last time together. Now, let me do something special for you, beautiful, so we can get down to some real business.”
Yes, this was very nice for a start, and, just like Jill, she was smiling at me, believing every word of what I said because she wanted to believe it. Feeling the wonderful rush pass over me, I grinned, knowing this time it was true, and she was grinning back in anticipation of what was to come.
Taking her in my arms again, we stood with me propped against the counter and her pressed against me in her thin, little dress that showed all of her curves. From what I could see and feel, I knew she didn’t have on a bra under it, and, I suspected, if she had on panties, they had to be a practically non-existent thong or a G-string.
The afternoon got even more interesting from there as I stripped Elaina’s little dress up and over her head, finding that she, yes indeed, had absolutely nothing on underneath it. I was cupping and suckling those knockers, imagining her milk trickling into my mouth as I pulled up one leg and slid my fingers home into her warm, wet depths.
Within moments, I’d positioned myself so I had two fingers inside on her G-spot and my thumb on her clit. Then I started working her and Elaina was moaning in no time.
After so many kids, Elaina’s pussy’s not quite as tight as Jill’s, but free pussy is great pussy, no matter how you fuck it, and I’ve fucked Elaina’s a lot.
A whole lot.
First, though, I set her on the counter, pushed her legs up and wide, and went to town on eating her pussy with a hunger that made me throb. Highlighted by a dark, trimmed bush, her clit is large compared to Jill’s dot and it doesn’t take much for it to get her off. My fingers went back to massaging her G-spot as I tongued her, taking her up, bringing her down a bit, and then back up again. Then she moaned out loud and her thighs clamped about me as her face slowly relaxed and she whispered how much she loved me doing that for her.
We’d agreed long before that what we had wasn’t love and that neither of us wanted it. While we weren’t completely happy with our respective situation at home, we weren’t all that upset and weren’t planning to get out of our respective marriages either.
That didn’t mean we couldn’t have fun though. A lot of fun.
“Oh, Greg, you make me see stars, lover. Great big fucking stars! You think you’re ready to give it to me for real?”
“Yes, ma’am!” I replied. “Let’s see if we can see those fucking stars together!”
With my rod like a rock again from my great dining experience, that’s what we did for the next round, again right there on the countertop, my cock in her pussy from behind, slamming against her generous ass that makes Jill’s admittedly really nice one look small. Elaina gets loud when she gets close, and she got close really fast this time, with me pushing her over the edge as I filled her again, from below this time, and she came all over me.
I’m glad she got to clean the kitchen floor instead—
***
The phone rang, startling me, and bringing me back to my early Monday afternoon efforts, ripping me away from my sweet memories of our fucking and how I’d eaten her out again and fucked once more later in the afternoon.
Glancing down at the claim I’d been reviewing, I shook my head and made a note to recheck it after finishing on the phone.
The caller ID line on the phone listed “Natalie,” our receptionist and switchboard operator, which made me want to pick it up even more. Whereas Elaina was a mom I already loved to fuck, Nat was a 24-year-old beauty who’d been on my Want-To-Do List since even before I started with Elaina.
“Hi, Nat. What’s up?”
“Hi, Gregory, looks like you have a great afternoon planned! Somebody’s sent you a big box of flowers. You need to come up and sign for them.”
I wasn’t expecting anything but I knew at once what they were, an offering from Jill, to keep my motor running throughout the day as I looked forward to the fuckfest we’d have when I got home.
***
Yes, on Saturday, I took a quick shower at Elaina’s after we were done and then ran the few blocks back to my car, breaking a sweat as I did to cover up any smells of sex or Manuel’s body wash. When I entered the house, I complained to Jill that it had been a warm day but that the air conditioner hadn’t been on at the office and that I’d had a hot, sweaty time.
That it had been at Elaina’s and hadn’t been as miserable as I implied was left unsaid.
“Jill, let’s go upstairs and make love,” I started. “You’ve been sick and we haven’t gotten to do it in like two weeks.”
Guilt often works wonders on her, but not this time.
“No, Gregory,” she practically moaned. “I told you, I can’t. Not until at least tomorrow and probably until Monday when the new antibiotic has had time to fully kick in and lick this bug.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m thinking with my little head that’s craving action more than my big one that knows better,” I groused. “Maybe if you can lay your wonderful healing hands on me tonight and give me a release?”
Jill’s hand jobs aren’t quite as good as her blow jobs but they’re far better than nothing and maybe that guilt still had a chance? I could see her thinking, about to break and offer me something.
She was teetering on the edge, about to cave when, to my surprise, she shook her head and my heart slumped. Then she threw me a lifeline.
“I’ll tell you what, assuming I keep improving like this, I’ll be feeling better by Monday and we’ll be able to make love again then. Let’s plan on having a fun time Monday night to make up for all the times we’ve missed recently, okay? In fact, I’ll make you a promise. I’m going to make Monday a day you’ll never, ever forget.”
She said it with a grin, the first time I’d seen her smile at all in days.
“Oh, really? Are you sure, Jill?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding, her smile beaming. “In fact, I’ll make a deal with you.” Her fingers trailed over my chest, enticingly.
“If you’ll promise me that you won’t come between now and Monday night—no, no unscheduled releases in the shower, no trips downstairs to the basement bathroom or anywhere else, not even once—after we make love the first time, I’ll give you a blow job—and you can come on my tits—no, wait! I’ll tell you what, you can come wherever you want. And then—”
She paused, causing my racing heart to take a break as I held my breath. A wicked grin crossed her face.
“—I’ll lick up every bit of it. How about that? You like?”
Oh, my, did I like! My heart thumped like crazy at the thought, threatening to leap out of my chest. When Jill gave me a “complete” blow job, she always wanted my jizz shot deep in her mouth and down her throat where it wouldn’t make a mess but where I couldn’t enjoy the visual. Seeing my semen spray in her mouth, on her cheeks and forehead, and maybe even into her hair, was a rare dream come true. Watching her wipe a finger through my thick cum and lick it off—I practically shivered at the thought.
“Fuck yeah!” I shouted.
She was grinning and laughing harder than I’d seen her laugh in years. “Hold on, honey! We’re not done yet!”
She said it like the announcer on all of those TV game shows and I couldn’t help grinning, wondering what else she might throw in to sweeten the pot.
“And after that, if you can get hard again, with a little, or maybe a lot of help from yours truly,” she added before a pregnant pause, “I’ll, ahem, let you, ahem—”
She looked like the cat that ate the canary as she whispered, “—fuck my ass.”
“No way!”
That was the Holy Grail, something we’d done maybe six or seven times in nearly twenty years of marriage. Okay, maybe I’d been a little too enthusiastic the first time and it hadn’t been good for her as her tight little hole squeezed me to an incredible orgasm while I drilled her, but I’d learned my lesson and had been much more careful and considerate in the relatively few times she’d let me do it since.
“With me being sick for so long, I’ve been thinking of ways I can make it up to you and I realized we hadn’t done that since Dan and Linda’s party a few years ago. I’m sorry, honey. You know I don’t particularly like it, but I like to do it for you sometimes because I love to make you happy.”
“Oh, Jill, that’s so sweet! Thank you! This will be a night we’ll remember for a long, long time.”
“Uh huh,” she agreed. “You better believe it. Remember though, no coming between now and Monday night. I want every single bit of your cum saved up and ready for me.” She stressed “every single bit,” hitting each word hard and pausing so I’d remember them.
Jill’s hand was down my pants, cupping my balls. “In fact, I want these so fucking full when you get home on Monday night that you’ll barely be able to walk, and when you come for me—over and over again, I hope—that you feel like it’s an atom bomb going off every single time, okay? Deal?” Again, she stressed “every single time” like before so I’d know she was serious.
In actuality, I’ve read that doctors say men don’t store up semen, but I knew in my case that thinking about sex and being on edge for hours on end in preparation for what I expected to come made my testicles feel like they were inflated like basketballs. Then when I come in jets afterward—oh, baby!
“You’d better believe it,” I agreed. “I’m looking forward to fucking you six ways from Sunday.”
“Monday,” she said teasingly, while knowing the idiom. “In fact, I want you thinking about it all weekend and making as many of those little swimmers as you can. Hey, you might even want to get off a little early that night so we can make it count.”
“Definitely!”
***
As I walked through the office that Monday with my hands shoved deep in my pockets, I was concentrating, hoping my hard cock wasn’t too obvious in my trousers as I approached the lobby but knowing all the while that it was. My balls already felt swollen and I suspected that my boxer briefs were coated in precum that had been leaking off and on all day as I looked forward to what was to come.
I peeked around the opening to see that Natalie wasn’t looking my way before entering and then positioned myself next to the desk where she couldn’t see my problem.
If the courier guy saw my bulge—well, he could just be fucking jealous as far as I was concerned.
“Hi, package for Mr. Gregory Blish from his loving wife, Jill. You’re Gregory?”
“In the flesh,” I said, “and damn lucky to be.”
“Yeah, based on this, I’m guessing so,” laughed the courier, who had Tommy embroidered on his shirt in a cursive script below a light jacket that hung wide open. He was holding a big flower box with at least a dozen roses I guessed, and maybe two or three.
“Sign right here, please, Mr. Blish.”
He shoved the clipboard toward me and I signed before he put the big box of flowers in my hands. I was looking at it, thinking how sweet it was that Jill was making our day truly special and how I was going to fuck her like there was no tomorrow when I got home. That’s when Tommy picked up something off the counter and laid it on top of the box of roses. It was a manila envelope with my name typed on it.
“Mr. Blish, this is yours too. You’ve been served.”
Suddenly, all of my wonderful daydreams, of the best day I’d been anticipating ever since Saturday night, came to a screeching halt.
“What? What the hell is this?”
Tommy shrugged and left without answering while Natalie’s mouth hung open as if she was one of the world’s top porn stars waiting for a huge blast of cum of her own.
“What the hell?” My heart was racing as I tried to rip the envelope open. The box of flowers, now all but forgotten, fell, allowing the top to come off and reveal probably two dozen black roses. They scattered all over the place as the box hit the floor, but I wasn’t concerned in the least about fucking roses.
There were lots of papers in the envelope, but it was the letter on top that caught my eye. It was that handwritten letter, in Jill’s handwriting, that made my chest hurt.
“No no no! This can’t be happening!”
With the letter in hand, I read.
Dear Gregory,
I told you I’d make today be a day you’d never forget, but, April Fool,—
Fuck, I’d known this was April 1st but hadn’t considered it was April Fools’ Day.
—it won’t be for all the reasons you expected. No, Gregory, we won’t be doing the things I’d led you to expect, not tonight or ever again. You won’t be doing it because you’ve already done most if not all of that behind my back with that bitch Elaina, your whore from down the street, the woman who I once thought was my friend.
No way! There’s no way she could have found out. Did Elaina tell her? That must have been it, that evil cunt!
Yes, I’ve known about that and your infidelity for a couple of weeks, ever since I came home early and received the worst surprise of my life, possibly like this might the worst surprise in yours. If, that is, you even care. I did, Gregory. I loved you with all my heart and thought you did the same with me, but seeing you fucking the vile bitch in our bed caused me to snap. I almost ran in to grab her hair, to rip her away from you, but fortunately I had the presence of mind to resist the urge and to, yes, snap a couple of photos instead before sneaking out to make plans of my own.
Was the bedroom door open? Had Jill opened it and looked in without me seeing? I didn’t know because I’d been lost in my own little world with Elaina. We’d been done and she was long gone by 4 o’clock, so Jill must have gotten off quite early to surprise me before sending me the message that she was having to go help her sister, Julie, with something and would be staying there overnight.
And yes, I know that wasn’t the only time. See, we followed you on Saturday and in your lust, you probably didn’t see Julie’s car parked near the far end of our street. She watched you pull out and then picked me up moments after you turned off our street onto the road. We followed along to see you pull in behind the podiatrist’s office and then head back to the evil bitch’s. With your damn hood up, you never saw us but we saw you go in for another round with your filthy whore.
“Fuck!” I breathed. Natalie was biting her lip, looking at me nervously as I tried to will myself to continue reading.
So yes, I’ve known and that’s why I’ve refused your demands to fuck and your incessant bitching when I refused your advances over the past two weeks. No, I haven’t really been sick; the symptoms and the name of the illness I gave you to keep you from asking too many questions came from a friend. All of those pills I’ve been taking to keep your paws off of me are vitamins in old pill bottles that Julie helped me doctor up to look new. Now you know the basics, but you can read all about it in my divorce filing, attached.
“No! She can’t do this!”
“What’s wrong, Gregory?” asked Natalie, still too young and single to have ever felt the crushing weight of receiving that particular type of paper. “Are you okay?” she asked as she came around the desk and squatted down to pick up the nasty roses and put them back in the box. In her heels and her short, sexy red dress, her knees spread dangerously far apart and I imagined that her sweet twat, covered by probably the tiniest, sexiest panty imaginable, had to be sticking down below the bottom of the hem and probably opened a bit, invitingly, I was sure.
Realizing what I was thinking even in the midst of a crisis, I silently shouted “Get a grip!” at myself inside. “Ahem, thanks, Natalie, and sorry about the damn flowers. Please tell Mrs. Eubanks that I’ve come down with a really violent stomach virus and have to get home before I puke all over the lobby and make everyone else sick.”
Leaving her to continue picking up the ugly black roses, I rushed to my desk, saved my work, and grabbed my sports coat before heading out. Natalie tried to give the flower box to me as I left, so I tossed the whole thing in the trash, only to see it fall open again and some of the roses with broken stems crumple sideways and fall out once more. As they did, it made me think of my marriage collapsing in front of the withering rounds from a firing squad in an old TV western.
I left them where they fell.
While rushing to the parking lot, my plan was to get home to read the rest, but the urge overpowered me as soon as I got in my car. I started reading again.
My divorce lawyer assures me that we have a great case and that it should move quickly due to no kids, our relatively equal jobs and retirement plans, and my very reasonable demands. Our stupid state legislators did away with infidelity as major factor in divorce and divorce settlements some years back, so you’ll get by without the punishment you so richly deserve as a result.
“Thank you, state legislators! I’ve never said this before but I fucking love you guys!”
However, since that is the case and since you’d shredded our wedding vows in our own bed but can never be punished for it, I took your lead and found a guy later that same night who gave to me as richly as I’m sure Elaina gave to you.
“What?” I screamed. Surely I hadn’t read that right, but doing so again, it still said the same thing. “That fucking bitch!”
Yes, Gregory, the man had the goods and he knew how to use them, giving me one orgasm after another while making me as much of a fucking cheater as you were with Elaina. However, he made me feel better about myself after feeling like such a failure just hours earlier when I wondered how I could have failed so miserably in losing you and seeing you throw our marriage away.
Angry at Jill for what she’d done and angry at myself for putting her in the position to do it, I hit the balls of my fists against the steering wheel and loosed a long torrent of curses consisting mostly of “Fuck!” over and over and over again. My car horn sounded from an errant hit and I jumped before looking around guiltily to see if anyone caught me doing it.
Seeing no one and trying to get a grip, I brought eyes back to the paper a moment later.
While it was a night of revenge (and only one night) and a night that I’ll never forget, I found that getting back at you really didn’t help nearly as much as I hoped. In fact, as much fun as it was and as good as he made me feel, I’ll probably never see the guy again due to the guilt I felt afterward, of stooping to the exact same shitty level as you did.
Or, just maybe if our paths cross again someday, maybe we will?
Every word she wrote angered me further, but as if she was stabbing me in the heart. Then she pulled out the machine gun and really started mowing me down.
I’ve been so ashamed since then that I almost didn’t tell you, but then you wouldn’t know that I’ve moved on and that another man has been inside me since you have, even as I denied you your wishes to fuck me over the past two weeks. As guilty as I feel, you wouldn’t ever know that I’d already put you behind me and that you’ll never enjoy my pussy again, that you’d never collect on that blow job we discussed, and that you’d never, ever, stick your fucking cock in my ass again despite the fact that you looked like a kid getting a Red Ryder on Christmas morning when we talked about it the other night.
“Fuck! She planned that,” I cried. “She knew exactly what she was doing when she promised all of that. She never intended to come through on any of it!”
No, Gregory, we won’t be doing those things I promised. We’re done as a couple and I’m moving on. While I don’t have anyone at the moment, I’m not going to mope and moan about what you’ve done to us and the horribly shitty thing I did in response. I’m almost 42 so my OBGYN tells me I probably still have a little time if I find the right guy and we want to have a child. That’s something I’ve thought about a lot over the past two weeks since I stumbled onto your infidelity. If it happens, I’m glad he or she won’t have to call you “Daddy.”
“Oh. That hurts,” I said, a tear forming in my eyes. While I’d never wanted kids, the thought of Jill having one without me made my heart ache even worse. Maybe if I hadn’t been so resistant to the idea?
The other thing I’ve thought about is us and our time together in the time since your cock explored Elaina’s plumbing in such detail. You see, when we met, I thought you were the nicest guy ever and that lasted for years. When we fell in love, I wanted you always and those years made me excited as a result.
Yes, they’d been some good years, some very good years. Maybe I’d be able to soothe this over, to convince her to give me another chance. Maybe…
Even after we married and you changed your mind about having children, saying you didn’t want any after all, I still loved you despite my great disappointment and despite how you changed even more over the years that followed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for the better, with you saying sayonara to your Mr. Nice Guy persona and replacing it with a standoffish, selfish, ass. However, it wasn’t until I saw you in bed, our bed, with Elaina, that I realized the truth.
She’d always teased me about being such a nice guy. Now, she didn’t believe it anymore. I felt my hope, as slim as it had been just moments earlier, slipping away.
Now it’s time for me to say “Sayonara, Gregory,” but not to the sweet guy I used to love. He left me a long time ago, just as I’m leaving you now. The difference is that it saddens me, in a way, for the years we loved, the connection we shared, and the love we lost, whereas I doubt that you’ll give it a second thought except for that fact that you may have to work a little harder for the pussy you apparently crave far more than the real, enduring love that I always tried to give you until I caught you with the whore.
So Happy April Fools’ Day, Gregory. While I’m sad and sick of where this has taken us and the terrible course before us as we part, I hope you’re happy with being the fool that ruined our happiness and our future together.
Goodbye, my former husband, and so long.
Your former loving wife who is no more,
Jill
Anger.
Sadness.
Guilt.
They all worked together to make the tears that had welled up in my eyes start to flow down my cheeks as I read her last words, her sayonara to our marriage, her adios and good riddance to me. Then I turned the page and saw something at the top of the next page. Wiping my eyes, I read:
P.S. Manuel Muñoz received a copy of the attached photos today too, delivered by the courier right before he made this delivery for you. I bet you didn’t even notice his signature on the line right above yours, right? Anyway, I understand that Manuel has a short temper, though I can’t say that I blame him. You might want to consider that and get away before he shows up with a baseball bat. I recall Elaina, when I still thought she was my friend, saying that he was only a decent baseball catcher but that he could really swing a bat.
I looked up to see a big guy that looked very much like Manuel from a distance walking up the sidewalk toward our building. Not wanting to stick around if it was him, I started the car and drove away, mumbling curse after curse.
Each and every one was directed at myself, for I’d succeeded in turning what I’d believed to be my very best day into my absolute worst day ever.
***
Several years later…
After a long, hard road, I’d finally found my way.
I had recognized my mistakes for what they were, had repented for them, and, with the help of an understanding woman, had begun plotting my way forward. That woman was Caylie Yergin, my girlfriend of recent months.
Like me, Caylie had divorced years earlier and had wandered through a series of middling-to-bad relationships in the time since. We hadn’t been dating long when I made my decision; I’d seen a couple of other potential relationships derailed in the past few years after coming clean too late, so I didn’t want to make that mistake again.
Caylie had tears on her cheeks as, with great nervousness, I told her of my past indiscretions, how I’d learned from my mistakes, and that I promised to avoid repeating them in the future.
“The cost was too great, the hurt was too enduring, and I’ve sworn to God and myself that it won’t happen again. I understand if you don’t or can’t believe that and want to get up and walk away right now; I wouldn’t blame you if you do. If you decide to give me a chance, we may still find that we’re not right for each other sometime in the future but I promise you it absolutely won’t be because I’m cheating on you.”
Fully expecting her to walk out like the others, Caylie shook her head and dabbed at the tears.
“Greg, thank you for telling me. And please, don’t get me wrong, I’m not crying because of what you said, at least not because of the part you actually did. No, and despite what you might think, this isn’t any easier after what you said but my past isn’t lily white either. In fact, it’s an ugly, checkered mess that, like you, I’ve learned from and plan to avoid repeating in the future. I hope you’ll give me a chance too.”
Yes, learning from our past mistakes, we’d each admitted to them early in our time together and had used them to strengthen our relationship and our resolve rather than letting our mistakes destroy our future once again. Over the six months since, we’d grown closer and I’d decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. With Caylie having just turned forty and me only being a couple of years from fifty, life had taken a toll so we weren’t anywhere close to perfect but we were quite good together.
Therefore, I walked into the restaurant more nervous than I’d been since I broached that subject about our pasts. Tonight was the night when I wanted to talk to Caylie, not about our pasts but about our future. Together.
While we’d talked about it quite a bit in recent weeks, tonight was the night I planned to ask her to marry me.
I was waiting for her in the lobby when she called to say that she was running a little behind and for me to get a table.
“Want me to order you a glass of cab? Or maybe champagne?” I asked.
“No thanks, I’ll order something when I get there, okay?” she replied over the phone. “I love you, Greg, and I’m really looking forward to tonight. I’ll see you in a few.”
“I love you, too, Caylie,” I replied, touching the ring box in my pocket. “See you shortly.”
After telling the hostess that my girlfriend was arriving a few minutes late, she agreed to escort me to our table. We were heading that way when I saw her across the room.
Jill looked much the same as before, a bit older but still as pretty as ever. The big difference was the little girl with a head of blonde hair sitting in the booster seat next to her. I knew that decorum would say for me to go on by, to ignore her, but in hindsight, our almost twenty years together now meant something to me that I’d forgotten for a time—no, thrown away—a few years earlier.
Once I reached my table, I spoke to the waitress and ordered a drink for myself before making my way back across the restaurant to her table.
“Hello, Jill.”
“Gregory,” she said, a bit startled. “Ah, hi.”
“Hi. How are you? And who do we have here?”
“Ah, I’m fine, thanks. And this is Serena, my daughter.”
“Hi, Serena. I’m Greg, ah, an old friend of your mom’s. How old are you, sweetheart?”
The little girl, the spitting image of her mother, only 40-something years younger, held up three fingers but didn’t say anything. Then she picked up her toy and I knew I was dismissed, even as I wondered what I’d given up by refusing to have children with Jill. Perhaps that was a mistake and possibly the reason I’d gotten bored and wandered, but that was a question to which I’d never know the answer.
“Ahem, Greg?” Jill asked with a raised eyebrow. “Not Gregory anymore?”
“After making so many mistakes, I had to reevaluate my life and make a lot of changes. That one wasn’t planned but it happened. So how are you? You’re married?”
“I’m doing well, thank you, and yes. Blake and I met about six months after the divorce was finalized, and everything clicked. We’d been dating for a little over a year when we married. You?”
“No, but I’ve spent the last few years learning a lot and hoping to avoid repeating past mistakes. I finally met someone special a while back and am trying to see where it’s going. She called and said she was stuck in traffic but would be here soon.”
“Well, best wishes with that.”
“Thanks, Jill, but that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you, for just a few moments if it’s okay?”
She glanced at the little girl, a warning more than anything, but I understood and nodded.
Lowering my voice, I said, “Jill, I made some mistakes once, really bad ones, and it took years to come to grips with how I acted and to accept the responsibility for them. It wasn’t right to do it and it definitely wasn’t right to you. I’m so sorry for what I did, for what I did to you, and for what that did to us as a result. I think I’ve learned from that and hope I’m a lot wiser now—not that you’ll care—but I’m determined that it will never happen again. I hope you’ll forgive me someday, too.”
She studied my face before giving a slow nod. “Gregory, ah, Greg, it’s ancient history now, and we’ve both moved on, to something better for me and hopefully for you, too, so I forgive you. Now, I think we’d both prefer to not dwell on it, so please, go, and have a good life.”
“Thank you, Jill, and you too.”
Understanding and feeling an old and heavy burden lifted, I turned to see a man standing just behind me observing what we’d said. We nodded to each other without a word being said as I passed him and made my way back toward my table.
As I walked, I thought about what I’d done, how I’d messed up so badly and how I’d messed things up between us. I thought of how I’d been a fool, how I’d cheated and how Jill had pranked me in reply on April Fools’ Day, destroying what had promised to be the best day because I’d already destroyed everything we’d had together.
The server brought my drink just after I reached the table. I thanked her and took a sip to calm the veritable swarm of butterflies that were churning in my stomach. The drink helped a bit and it gave me a few minutes to think about the mistakes of my past and what might be ahead.
For the longest time, I’d dwelt on the past, of how I’d messed up, and how everything that I valued had been ripped away from me. What made it worse was that I knew it was all my own fault. In the months since I’d met Caylie, I’d finally started having hope once more and thinking about a possible future with someone beyond myself. I’d be open to her wants, her needs, and I’d do whatever it took to make it work with her.
I touched the little box in my pocket, hoping as I did, and drawing a bit of assurance that Caylie and I knew each other as well as I thought. Taking a deep breath, I released it slowly, knowing that everything was going to work out for the best.
She entered just minutes later and spotted me across the room. I stood as she approached and we met with a hug and a little kiss before I pulled her chair out for her and helped her have a seat.
“Greg, how was your day?” she asked, giving me a smile that would have brightened even a previously dark day.
“It started out to be like any other but it’s actually turned out to be quite nice. Now, you’re here and that makes me believe it will be the best day.”
She leaned over and kissed me as her hand rested on my knee. “I’m glad,” she whispered. “And maybe, just maybe,” she teased, “the night will be even better than you expect.”
I hooked her hand in mine and smiled. “That sounds great, sweetheart. I’m a very lucky guy.”
“Maybe,” she repeated, this time with a wink.
Our server, having seen Caylie’s arrival, approached and introduced herself again. Caylie ordered an iced tea and asked about the specials for the evening. Since I’d already picked what I wanted from the menu, my mind wandered, thinking about how lucky I really was. With Jill finally giving me the forgiveness I’d long hoped for and Caylie hopefully giving me a chance for a new future with her, this I realized, really could be the best day.
***
Dinner went well with great food, conversation, and companionship. I never saw Jill, her husband, and their little girl leave but I wasn’t watching and didn’t care either.
Afterward, Caylie agreed to leave her car at the restaurant as we drove to our favorite overlook to watch the early summer sunset. There, I told her I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She said yes and smothered me with kisses as several other couples nearby clapped for us and wished us well.
After so many mistakes in my past, I was now the happiest man alive. It really was the best day.
“Let’s go to your place,” she whispered, “to celebrate.”
I nodded. “And the day keeps getting better!”
Grinning, she kissed me and said softly, “Just wait.”
At my house, I escorted her to my bedroom and we kissed and touched as we removed each other’s clothes. I cupped and nuzzled her breast, placing little kisses on her nipple and areola as she took me in hand and gave me slow, gentle strokes. Knowing it wouldn’t take much to make me fire off like a rocket, I slid a hand down over her belly, through her close-kempt patch, and down her hood to heaven. Through and back I slid, finding her soaked and ready.
“Let me get a condom, sweetie,” I said.
“No, it’s okay and I want to feel you in me,” she replied. “I love you, Greg, so make love to me, make love to me always and forever.”
“I will, Caylie,” I replied, meaning it with all of my being. A moment later, I was at heaven’s gates and gently pushing inside, enjoying the sensation of having nothing but love between us.
She moaned gently as I did, burying myself to the hilt as she slipped her arms around me to hold me tight. She hooked her feet behind my ass to keep me there too.
Together, we rocked, me enjoying her feel about me and her enjoying each thrust, each little sweep over her clit that helped her climax build. And build it did, for both of us, as we united in body and soul, with Caylie grinding her sex around me as I thrust into her time and again.
“Oh, Greg, I’m getting close,” she gasped. Her kisses, her moans, and her little panted words of encouragement drove me on, faster and harder, until we both exploded together in a wondrous release. Feeling her hold me, feeling her love, I knew then that it had all been worth everything I’d been through and that I’d love her always and forever, through thick and thin, no matter what.
Still buried inside her and resting atop her where she could feel my weight but not be crushed by it, I reached in and planted a series of little kisses up her neck before moving to her ear and whispering, “I love you, Cayle, and I always will.”
Her eyes were closed in her euphoria, her face the most relaxed I’d ever seen, but she gave the sweetest smile and nodded before replying, “I love you, too, Greg, now and forever.”
There were no more words for none were needed as we lay there on the bed feeling loved and together. I shifted off a few moments later and positioned myself beside her where we could keep holding each other until we had to take a break in the bathroom.
After that quick trip, we snuggled back together, getting under the sheets when Caylie said she’d spend the night with me. As I held her, I felt her relax, dozing off for a bit with my arm around her, making her feel safe, loved.
That topped off what I saw as my best day. Oh, there might possibly have been one or two along the way that were just as good, but I couldn’t think of any days that were any better, so I smiled, feeling wonderful as I felt her sweet, naked body against me.
Feeling so happy, my mind drifted back to the happenings of dinner and, with seeing Jill, the reminder of that last time I’d thought it was going to be the best day, when it had all gone to pieces and my world had fallen apart.
Caylie rolled over and gave a little moan as she rested her arm on my bare chest and then planted her chin on her wrist, sweet breast against me.
“Thank you for such a great day, Greg. I love you so much and look forward to being married to you for the rest of our lives.”
“I love you, too, Caylie, and look forward to being married to you always too. And it has been the best day, hasn’t it?”
She nodded and said, “Greg, it has, and guess what? I’ve got a surprise you’re not going to believe and it’s going to make your day even better!”
“What?” I asked with a big smile, not having a clue. “You, ah, you got a promotion at work?”
Grinning, she shook her head and looked in my eyes.
“Remember when the condom slipped a couple of weeks ago? I thought it was okay, but it turned out to be even better than okay. I went to the doctor this afternoon and found out that I’m pregnant, Greg! We’re going to have a baby!”
The End
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Author’s Notes:
This story was written for the April Fools Day Story Contest 2024. To avoid possible spoilers and potentially ruin the surprises, I left this note to the end. Thanks for reading, for your votes, and for any favorites, follows, and comments. All are appreciated.
Finally, while this is a standalone story, some may recognize it as a sequel to my previous 750-word project stories titled “Being Mr. Nice Guy” and “No More Mr. Nice Guy.”