How come I felt like a rat, when I know I just did what had to be done? Why did I keep my mouth shut to protect her, when she herself instigated all this? What was happening to me? Was I turning into a whimp?
God knows I loved her once. And not even that many years ago. I'd even say that our first 5 years together were happy. Lots of love, lots of lovemaking. Successes in our businesses - she a lawyer, I an independent furnituremaker. We made tons of money, and I made quite a bit more than she, even though she was a lawyer. I happen to be good at my trade, and in our city there was a great demand for high quality unique furniture.
Through those first years we promised ourselves always to take time for each other and not let greed rule. And we kept that promise. Long weekends, quite a lot of small vacations with a trip to the Bahamas, Hawaii etc. Romantic places to kindle the fire, and we sure had the hots for each other. Susan was a dish and I was strong and fit. Our lovemaking was spontaneous, wild and frequent, and when we were not trying to crush each other's bones, we had a lot of common interests, like books, opera, theatre, gourmet food and tennis.
At first I didn't notice the changes, perhaps because we rarely talked shop at home. I couldn't really bring out her enthusiasm for a corporate conference table of a unique design of my own, and I really could not see the interesting aspects of yet another divorce case. That's probably why I missed the first signs of a change. But when I did, it was probably too late.
The little frowns on her forehead, the times she was so absentminded that I had to repeat what I was saying. And our bankaccounts that were growing a lot faster than expected. The proverbial shit hit the fan when she cancelled a trip to Jamaica, following a morning phonecall on the day we were supposed to fly at 12.
"I have to go to court today and tomorrow."
"Since when have divorce-courts run that kind of a schedule?"
"It's not a divorce case, it's criminal."
"Oh, you changed your line?"
"Yes, and I'd rather not talk about it right now. I have to go to the office to prepare myself."
I cannot say that I took it very kindly. I was totally unprepared, my mood was set for a week of relaxing, dancing and fucking, and I had worked a bit hard to finish a workload and set my calendar free.
Susan left for her office with me slamming the door after her. I called one of the carpenters in my shop, Bill, whom I had known for years and who was more of a friend than an employee, and asked if he would join me on Susan's ticket for a week of rhum, calypso and whatever. Our holiday was fine and fun, our heads were miserable for five consecutive mornings, and I was a bit more mellow when I returned home. But still I was anxious to learn about the change in Susan's work.
And I was rather miffed again, when I found out that she was not at all willing to tell me a lot about it.
"It's just that we partners have decided there is a bit more money in that kind of cases, and some of them are rather more interesting."
I was not willing to accept things at that. For a few days I did some checking up. The extra sums in our accounts were too big to my taste. And a little prying about didn't give me any answers. There was too much secrecy to my taste. I even hired a private eye to do some investigation as to the nature of their business, but he only came up with a few facts I already knew, plus the information that there seemed to be a Berlin Wall round their business. When this coincided with Susan working late 5 times over two weeks and coming home smelling of liquor and cigars, I just had to confront her and not take no for an answer.
That night was no fun. We were well past midnight before she let go and started to talk, and only after a lot of yelling, screaming and crying at each other. And boy was she in it to the neck, the stupid cow. Suffice it to say that slowly she had been dragged into running a few cases for the Mob - well paid, of course. Bigger cases coming up, some of which involved a little bit of twisting the morals - better paid, of course. And now she had no way out of it again. She had made a few futile attempts, but apparently she knew too much for the tough guys to feel comfortable, and knowing the fact, that at present she faced prison, being disbarred plus total ruin, she had no choice but to continue.
I know full well, that if I'd been Charles Bronson, I should have bought a gun and launched my one man army against the local toughs, and then Susan would have done a brilliant work on my defence, whereupon we would live happily ever after. But alas, this is '99, it's not a movie, and I'm not a hero. Besides I was always a bit of a moralist, and slowly over that night I felt my love and respect for Susan seep out, like the gas from a leaking balloon. When the first grey morning light crept through the windows all our crying was done. The words were not yet said, but we both knew that we had no future together. Our love was gone, mine out of despise, her's out of fear, and the route she had taken could only lead to disaster.
In that grey morning light we fucked like lunatics. As if we both wanted something memorable to be the end of our marriage. I banged her cunt till her pelvic bone was sore. She fucked her ass on my stiff cock till it was like a piece of raw meat. And when we couldn't fuck any more we sucked and licked each other till we fell into a death-like sleep. We were awakened by the telephone at 9.30. Her office wanted to know why she had not yet arrived. She reported sick for the day (her voice sounded like it, too), and then we cried, hugging each other in despair.
The separation was smooth and in good will, somewhat unexpected considering the years she was (in)famous for the way she ripped off husbands. We split what was to split, and I kept the house which I loved and where I had built almost the complete interior.
That should have been it. But three months after she left, she returned one late evening. I was a bit shocked when I saw her standing in the doorway.
"Are you alone, and are you going to let me in?"
I opened the door wide, and as she was passing me I could not help feeling my whole body preparing itself for lovemaking. My God I had almost forgotten how beautiful she is, and how sexy I always felt she was.
In the den we sat down with a glass of wine, and I finally asked:
"What brings you here so late?"
"I need to talk. I know it was all my fault, and I have done everything I could to forget you, but I haven't been all that successful."
"What do you mean? I thought our love was dead."
"The love is dead all right, but the attraction is stronger than ever."
I looked at her wonderful body and I must admit I tended to tell her she was right.
"I still think you are a wonderful woman. I have tried out a few short relationships, but no one compares to you in that department."
"I feel the same way. I fucked a few, but no fire. No ecstasy."
"Is that why you need to talk?"
"No, not really."
She went silent for a minute or two, and I noticed that she started to blush.
"Then spill it out. You are making me curious."
"Well, then. Please don't be too offended by what I have to tell. But you are the person who knows me best, and right now I need you to bring me back on tracks."
"Yesterday I was called to a conference in Florida. Three of the family needed advice, and the negotiations took place in a penthouse apartment, on top of a posh hotel."
"Seems it's everyday business to you."
"It was, but what happened later was not."
"Johnny, was I always such a lowdown slut and hore? Did I always have it in me? I want you to tell me if what I did was only a continuation of me, or if I'm starting a dangerous slide into the deep and away from myself."
She definitely had my attention right now. I looked at her breasts. Of course they were still those smallish, pert cones, and her nipples were always extremely sensitive, but right now they were poking the thin, white silk of her posh dress, exhibiting a size I don't think I ever saw.
"You'll have to give me at least a clue."
"OK. Brace yourself. When the discussions were over, the family people were very impressed with me, and the Don said: That was quite impressive, young lady. I really want to award you beyond your normal charges. What can I give you?"
"I don't know. What do you have to offer?"
"Well, of course I might deposit a substantial sum on your account. On the other hand I might offer you a quite rare experience, that you would have difficulty finding elsewhere. Are you into indulging your body and your lusts?"
"You know what, Johnny? A week before I had had a try on sex, but he turned out to be about the lousiest lay this side of the Appalachians. And much to my surprise I felt my body react to his offer in a way I never thought possible. My nipples hardened, just like now, and my pussy was seeping at the thought."
"Just like now?" I asked.
"Well - let's talk about that later. I'm going to have a hard time telling you as it is."
She was obviously blushing, and her body showed her excitement. I wondered if she wasn't taking extra pleasure out of telling these things to me.
.... There is more of this story ...