"Damn that feels good," she said. He pulled out and felt her vagina squeeze him trying to hold him in. He laughed.
"Like it do you? Tell me again how much better than Victor I am," he said.
"No comparison, honey; pencil dick can't hold a candle to you. His little thingy just doesn't do it for me. Come on, sock it to me; don't tease me," she said. He ploughed into her once more; soon he was ramming her to the point of pain, but she didn't cry out. Her only sounds were low guttural grunts and growls as she began to stiffen and shudder in her third orgasm of the night.
As they were dressing he stopped and looked over at her. "Why don't you just leave him and come with me," he said. "We like the same things. We work in the same office. We're meant for each other. I mean a truck driver for chryssakes!"
"Yes, he used to drive a truck, but he's a good guy, Roger; and, he's a businessman now making a whole lot of scratch. And, for now, we keep him on a short leash and let him think he's—adequate." She smiled, "Like I was saying, he brings home five times what we do put together. Little dick, big business brain that's my Victor," she laughed.
"Yeah, I guess. Gotta give him that, I mean the money part. But, you're his inspiration, Isabelle. Without you he'd fall apart in a New York minute. The only reason he works that hard is because he thinks you love him. If and when he finds out different, well, he won't be able to handle it. I'm telling you," he said, "I know the type. Marries out of his league and then spends the rest of their—his—natural life trying to measure up," he said. She laughed again.
"Yes, I do believe he would fall apart if I left him," said Isabelle, "he's very sensitive. But, in all fairness, economically he has succeeded, and that big time. I do not want to be messin' with a meal ticket like my Victor."
"You know, together we'd be a heckuva team, Isabelle. If the business was yours..." he started.
"Don't even go there, Roger. I don't know the business and neither do you. We'd play hell making a go of it I'm certain. So, like I said, for now we have to be content with what we have and that's all," she said. He sighed.
"I suppose—for now at least," he said. "But, I'm going to get some of the stuff we talked about worked on. If and when he ever signs off on it, and I know you could get him to; well, it'd be point, set, match to us. Think about it."
"Yes, yes, but even if he did give me controlling interest, he'd still be the man to run it, not us," she said. "Roger, you're a paralegal. I'm a paralegal. There's no way we know how to do the kinds of things necessary to run a shipping enterprise like his."
"You hear that, Lan," said his sister. "Mom's having sex with that other man. And, they're talking a lot of trash about daddy."
"What are we going to do?" said Lan. Though younger by a year, fourteen year old Lisa was way the leader of their two person gang. "We gonna tell dad? We have to tell dad."
"No, we're going to tell mom that we know. She'll stop if she thinks that dad will divorce her. If she knows we know—well—she'll be scared to have sex with that man," said Lisa. Landry James Shelby looked dubious but nodded his willingness to go along with what his sister said.
The two siblings moved quietly back down the hallway and exited the house. They would talk to their mother a bit later, maybe after dinner. Their dad was on a business trip and that would give the two of them the chance they needed to carry out their plan.
Dinner had been quieter than usual. Isabelle Shelby noticed. "Lisa? Landry? Is something wrong dears?" she said. They were just finishing the last of the meatloaf that their mother had prepared for them.
"The meatloaf was really good, mom," said Landry. His mother smiled.
"Well, thank you, Landry. I'm glad you liked it," she said.
"It was fine, mom," she said. Landry looked at his sister. He was clearly wishing he was someplace else, like maybe Ethiopia.
Isabelle Shelby looked at her daughter and had a bad feeling. A feeling based on nothing, but a bad feeling nonetheless. "Lisa, is something wrong?"
"Yes, mom, something very bad is wrong momma," said the fourteen year old girl.
"Lisa, what is it, dear? Tell momma. I'm sure we can figure something out. We'll get your dad to help if necessary. Okay?" she said.
"Dad can't know about this mom. It's kinda about him," said Lisa. Her mom waited. Her eyes were the more narrowing the longer she had to wait.
"Mom, me and Landry; well, we saw you and that man having sex today. Having sex momma! Momma, you and that awful man did very bad things. And—and—you said very bad things about daddy, you and that man," said Lisa. "Momma, how could you talk like that about daddy! It was very bad, momma." She had spoken very fast, but her words were stunningly clear.
The older woman paled. "Wha—wha—what are you..." she started.
"Momma, we saw you," said Lisa. "We heard you too. We heard all of it. Right, Lan?" Her brother nodded though he clearly wanted no part of the goings-on.
Their mother sank into a chair and stared at the two children. Izzie Shelby felt her world collapsing.
"Children—it's just something that grownups—oh my God..." The older woman was beside herself with embarrassment and fear, yes, fear.
"Mom, it was bad stuff. Really bad stuff, momma. You gotta stop it momma. You gotta," said Lisa. The girl looked toward her so far silent brother; he got the message.
"Mom, we don't want daddy to know. We don't want you and dad to divorce like Millie Johnson's mom and dad did. Millie cries every night mom. She told me so," said Landry.
Isabelle, looked at her two children. Her mind was a cacophony of conflicting emotions and thoughts. Her Victor! Jesus, he would divorce her if he found out what she'd been doing—and saying.
The real truth was that she didn't want a divorce. Roger was great in bed but almost useless in any other way. But, Izzie Shelby was a realist if nothing else. Victor was going to find out now. Her children were too young not to give her away, even if she dropped Roger; Victor would still find out. It might be later rather than sooner, but it was inevitable now that the children knew. There was just no gainsaying it.
The children didn't want them to divorce, but having seen Roger and her; they had ensured that a divorce was a certainty. She had to talk to Roger.
Roger would know what to do; he had to! He'd think of something, some way to make sure that she didn't come out of the divorce penniless and without hope.
"Okay, Lisa, Lan, I will stop seeing mister—the other man. I am so sorry children that you had to see something like that today. I don't know, but when you grow up—well—maybe you'll understand. I hope so. And, no, I don't want to divorce your dad either," she said. It was a lie. But it was one she'd had to tell the children to gain the time she'd need to set things up and assure the success of her not yet mature plans.
The two teenagers rushed to their mother and the little group hugged. Her mother didn't seem to notice the troubled eyes of her daughter.
"I don't know why you're so down, Izzie. Frankly, this is an opportunity for us. I mean for you and me to..." started Roger.
She glared at him.
Her lover continued. "The man's an old guy. One foot in the grave already. He loves you. You got him totally pussywhipped. Just get him to sign the documents. Make him believe he's protecting you on account of he is so much older. Giving you nominal—though real—control of the business will protect you and ensure that you will not have to fight his relatives or anyone else if he should have a heart attack or something. Let him know that he will still have operational control; you'll not be interfering with the day to day business per se. He'll go for it; I know it."
"Roger! One, I don't cotton to hurting that good man. Worthless in bed, but a good man; that's my Victor. We should never have been talking smack about him; that was a mistake, a big one. The only reason we are considering doing what—well considering what we're planning is because he is certain to find out what we were saying about him. The cheating on him I could get him to forgive; he is a pussywhipped little guy, and he loves me enough for me to sell him on forgiving me that. But the words—never.
Two, we may get the business and the rest of the stuff we've talked about, but running it, the business—well—it ain't gonna be no picnic that's all. Victor works really long hours, Roger. He works crazy hard. Sometimes he comes home so dragged out that he can't even get it up for me. Hell, that's the main reason you got your shot at me," she said. She was not smiling. "You ready to work that hard bud, that long?"
"Iz, I will do whatever is necessary to make the business go," he said. "We'll hire someone to do the stuff that Victor does if we have to. You think he's the only one who knows how to move merchandise. There's a million like him out there."
She stared at him. She knew he didn't get it, she knew that for sure. But, he did have a good idea about hiring someone who could do the job that her husband did. They'd have to pay whoever it was pretty good, but that was going to be the price they'd have to pony up for making the mistake of fucking each other in her Victor's marital bed.
.... There is more of this story ...