Mickey was the woman that most men spend their life hoping to find. Great looking in a wholesome girl next door sort of way. A fantastic cook and a baker who won prizes at the county fair each year. She was the adoring mother of three wonderful children, she sang in the church choir, and taught Sunday school classes. She volunteered her services to various local charities, was recording secretary of the PTA and even with all the above going on she still found time to spoil me rotten. But as great as she was my lovely wife had a flaw. It probably wouldn't be a flaw to anyone else, but it was to me. Mickey loved sex, but only sex in the missionary position. Any other position than missionary was degrading to woman. Oral sex was disgusting and only whores did it. Anal sex? An abomination and the practitioners of it would surely go to hell. I, however, was a little more cosmopolitan in my tastes. I'd had oral sex before getting married and I loved both getting and giving it. Anal sex with a woman who liked it could be an exciting rush and I could think of any number of positions that could be sexually satisfying. I spent several years trying to get Mickey to come around to my way of thinking, but to no avail. In short - I was feeling sexually deprived.
I travel quite a bit as part of my job and over the years I'd sampled a lady or two, but the fear of taking home a disease made me put a stop to that. Instead I managed to come up with a steady girl friend in several cities - a sailor's girl in every port kind of thing as it were - and it worked out well for me. I did feel somewhat guilty about it at first, but I was able to rationalize the guilt away. I didn't love any of those women the way I loved Mickey and all I was doing with them was what Mickey had denied me. Shirley gave state of the art blow jobs and she loved the taste of cum so much that she swallowed it and then licked my cock clean to make sure she got every last drop. Angela had the tightest little asshole and she loved taking a cock in it. In fact, she preferred ass fucking to regular fucking and I was more that happy to see that she got what she wanted. Jennifer was a married woman who just loved to fuck, but what she loved even more was to have her pussy eaten when it had cum in it. Mine or her husbands, it didn't matter, as long as I was willing to suck it out of her she promised to be my girlfriend forever. Alice was a twenty-five year old who had been a gymnast in high school and college and she loved to contort her taut body into various positions for having sex. So there I was, sitting on top of the world with all that any man could hope to ask for. Great anal sex in Portland, superb head inn Salt Lake City, kinky cream pies in Denver, energetic and athletic sex in Kansas City and the hottest missionary position sex in the world at home.
A couple of years went by and then one day I was in Kansas City enjoying an evening with Alice when she asked me when I was going to get around to asking her to marry me. That of course had never been part of the plan and I told her that the thought had never entered my mind. "I love my wife and I'm very happy with her. I thought that you understood that all we have is friendly, energetic sex. I like you Alice, I like you a lot and I love spending time with you, but I'm afraid marriage is out of the question."
"Then I guess that you had better go because I thought that what we had was more than that, at least to me it was."
I was saddened to have to give up Alice, but at the same time if that was the way she felt to continue on would do neither of us any good. It was strange, but my breakup with Alice put a little tension in my other affairs. Would Shirley stop in the middle of a blow job and ask me when I was going to leave my wife for her? Would Angela ask me when I was going to give her a ring and finally brand her ass as mine? I was constantly on the look out for some telltale sign that the relationship was going to come unglued. I didn't see anything, but I was always on the alert.
About the same time as I was going through my uneasy phase with my lovers Mickey volunteered to work on a committee that was seeking to help inter city youth find jobs. Like most middle class white men who have had limited experience with blacks I was somewhat leery of letting my wife get involved with them. Not a racist you understand, but just a bit uncomfortable with the unknown. Mickey seemed to like the work and she was always bubbling when she came home and recounted her success in helping this or that young black man in achieving his goals. I'd just returned home from Portland and I wasn't surprised to find the house empty. Mickey would be out volunteering and when she did her parents always watched the kids until she got home. I headed for the kitchen to get a beer and then I planned to sit down in front of the TV, but when I got to the kitchen I found a note propped up on the kitchen table and next to it were two envelopes and videotape. I got the beer and sat down to read the note:
"Welcome home my love. I hope your trip was a productive one. While you have been gone I have been a busy little "beaver" (and yes, the quotation marks belong there as you will soon see) getting ready for your homecoming. I've thought long and hard about how to do this and what I have come up with may seem a little disjointed to you, but I was going for effect. Stop reading the note at this point and pick up the envelope marked A."
I put the note down and picked up envelope A and several photos slid out and onto the table. I picked them up and looked at them and my heart stopped and I had to fight to keep from puking. There were photos of Alice and I enjoying sex in various positions. With trembling fingers I picked up the note:
"Back already? You must have really upset the poor girl for her to decide to send those pictures to me. She said she kept them to masturbate to when you weren't there, but that I was welcome to them since she had no further use for them. You have no idea how upset I was when I saw those pictures. Had you been home I probably would have clawed your eyes out, but you were on a trip to Salt Lake City (Shirley, right?) and I had time to calm down and think about things. When I was done thinking I did a really bad thing. I raided the kid's college fund for money to hire a private detective. You have no idea how expensive that can be what with travel expenses and all, but you are a good provider and with a little hard work and extra effort you can build the fund back up by the time the oldest is ready to go to college. Stop reading the note now and look inside the envelope marked B."
I took a large swallow of my beer and reached for the other envelope like I was moving my hand toward a rattlesnake. It contained the detective's report and in scanning it I noticed that he had missed nothing. The bottom sheet of paper had numbers following headings like Attorney's fees, Shared Assets, Equities, Alimony and Child Support. The amount after the word Total made me wince. I picked the note back up:
"Did he do a good job? I'd hate to think I spent your hard-earned money on a shoddy piece of work. Did you see the last sheet of paper? That's what a divorce is going to cost you, but we aren't at that point yet so let's not rush things. If you followed your usual routine when you got home you went straight to the fridge for a beer. You probably took a sip before you sat down to read the note and I'm guessing that you have been gulping it down since you started reading the note. Stop reading at this point and get yourself another beer (I'm guessing you are going to need it) and then take the videotape into the living room and watch it. Then come back and finish reading the note. No fair reading ahead. I spent a lot of time setting this up so the continuity would flow. Please don't ruin my efforts."
.... There is more of this story ...