"God Damn it Cheryl, you've been working with us for four months now," said Connie. "This is the first time we've ever gotten you to come out with us. So don't start trying to leave before you've had at least one drink."

"And at least a dance or two," piped in Nancy. "There will be a lot of guys here on a Friday night. And you're a good looking woman. You won't have any trouble finding one."

"One drink and then I'm out of here," said Cheryl. "No dances and no men."

"Cheryl, not that it matters," said Helen. "But, are you a lesbian?"

"Of course not," said Cheryl. Her new work mates couldn't seem to figure her out. Only Connie knew the truth about Cheryl's life before she came to work for the XYZ Company.

Cheryl was an attractive brunette who stood about 5' 4" inches tall. She had nice but not spectacular breasts, a tiny waist and a nice but not spectacular ass. Her green eyes and her legs were her best features.

Connie on the other hand, was blond and shorter at 5' even. She had huge breasts and a well rounded rear end. She was maybe 10 or fifteen pounds over-weight but it was all in the right places and men loved her.

Nancy, the youngest of the four at 30, was also the tallest but the least curvy with A-cup breasts and slim boyish hips. Helen at 44 was the oldest but also the only one of the four who was married and had kids.

Cheryl had been married for over fifteen years, but sadly her marriage had ended only 11 months earlier. She still stung from the separation which accounted for her nun-like existence.

"If you're not a lesbian then why don't you want to meet a nice man?" asked Nancy.

"Because I already met one and fucked it up," snapped Cheryl icily. "Besides, no one is going to meet a nice guy in a meat market like this. All you're going to meet are pussy hounds and one night stands. No thanks."

Except for Connie the other women were shocked at Cheryl's words. They looked at her as if they expected her to tell them her story. But she was silent. She looked around the room as if she was trying to spot the exit but her eyes locked onto a guy at a table across the room.

Nancy and Connie followed her eyes and her shocked expression to the table she stared at. Cheryl had completely forgotten about her friends as she stared at the other table. The words of a song from when she was younger came to mind.

"You're in the corner, turning your back. You're running away again." The song was the first line from a song by Vixen, called "How much love." It reminded Cheryl of the way her marriage was going.

Connie who came to this bar often waved at a couple of the guys at the table and they waved back. One of the guys got up and came over to their table. Connie noticed that Cheryl was standing now and tentatively walking towards the table the guy had just left. There was a guy that Connie had never seen before at the table. He had dark hair. He was slim yet still muscular. He turned his face away from them as if he was hiding something. He very smoothly got up and walked away from the table. He headed towards the bathrooms along the wall near the door.

A couple of guys asked Cheryl to dance as she tried to get to the man who'd left the other table. They barely slowed her down. One guy actually grabbed her arm and tried to pull her onto the dance floor until she screamed at him to let go of her.

Connie quickly ran to her friend's side. Roger, the guy who was coming over to talk to Connie joined them.

"Cheryl, what's wrong?" asked Connie.

Cheryl ignored her friend and spoke to Roger. "That guy at your table, the one who went into the bathroom. Is he your friend? Where do you know him from?" she asked.

"He was kind of a cutie, Hon but he may be married or something," said Connie. "Don't get hooked on some guy before you even get to meet him. He may not be your type or you may not be his. Like you said before, not too many people are coming into this place to meet their soul mates."

Cheryl ignored Connie again. "His name is Rob Thomas, isn't it?"

Roger nodded. "He's been working with us for about 2 months now. He's a hard worker and a great guy. But he lives like a fucking monk. A bunch of the girls at work hit on him all the time, but apparently he's already in love. This is the first time we've been able to get him to come out with us. But something spooked him. He's gone back to her and they're gone, did you hear that?"

"I spooked him," said Cheryl. As she spoke a tear rolled down her cheek.

Connie looked at her friend and her heart went out to her. "Honey, I don't think you spooked him. You're probably just not his type. The cute guys who know they're cute always think they can pick and choose the women they want. Maybe he likes blonds."

"So what's his girlfriend like?" asked Cheryl.

"Well she's black and kind of wide," smirked Roger.

Connie shrugged her shoulders. Nothing shocked her. "They've all got their types honey, just like we do," she said.

"She's also got four chrome wheels, a supercharged V8 Engine and a running pony on her grill," said Roger.

Cheryl looked at Roger in surprise. "What?" she asked.

"As far as I can tell Rob doesn't date. He loves his car. The only woman I've ever heard him mention is his mother. That sound a few seconds ago outside, was the sound of that Mustang of his hitting the highway and leaving me stranded here. I'll have to get a ride from one of the other guys if I don't hook up tonight." He winked at Connie.

"Uhm I think I'm going to be kind of busy talking a friend down off the ledge," said Connie. "Give me a rain check though."

Connie drove Cheryl back to her house. She looked around and noticed more than a few photos of Cheryl and Rob together. The one that surprised her the most was a large framed wedding picture. In the picture Cheryl looked ecstatically happy. It looked as if she was marrying the man of her dreams and happy beyond reasoning. Rob, although younger, looked very happy too. Connie wondered what had happened to turn Cheryl into the depressed and seemingly dying woman that Connie knew.

Another thing that bothered Connie was Rob himself. He seemed to be almost afraid of the woman he used to be married to. A woman who at one time he'd promised to love and cherish for the rest of his life.

She needed to know more about this situation and not just because of her friendship with Cheryl. That first time she'd seen Rob across the floor before he'd snuck out of the bar through the back door, time had stood still for her.

Cheryl emerged from the bathroom in a long flannel dressing gown. She'd removed her makeup but her face was still very red and her eyes were puffy, from crying. There were still tears gently rolling down her face as she sat down on her couch and drew her knees up under her.

Connie moved over to the sofa beside her friend.

"Why don't you tell me about it Hon," she said. "Sometimes it feels better to get it out. And I can't help you get your revenge on him if I don't know what he did to you."

Cheryl sat up for a second and looked at Connie as if she was an idiot.

"I don't want revenge, Connie. I'm the one who messed up. What I want is my husband back."

"But aren't you divorced?" asked Connie. "Didn't you have your chance in court to say no?"

"I would move heaven and earth," said Cheryl. "I'd sell my soul for another chance. All he has to do is marry me again. But he doesn't even have to do that. I'd be happy just being his girlfriend or his booty call."

Connie looked at Cheryl strangely. Cheryl was not the type of woman to use a phrase like that.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy," snapped Cheryl. "Rob is not the booty call type. If he started something with me, even something like that it would end up being much more. I just need a way to get back into his life. And even if it was only sex, I'd take that in a heartbeat."

"He's my soul mate. We're meant to be together," she said heatedly. "Every second that we're apart hurts me."

Connie looked at Cheryl again. In the last few months that she'd known Cheryl this was the first time that she'd seen passion about anything coming from her friend.

Seeing Cheryl there on the couch with no makeup on made the woman seem older yet more innocent and vulnerable at the same time.

She knew that Cheryl was approaching forty but the pain and emotions running through her made her seem older.

"Rob and I got married when we were 22," began Cheryl. "We met in college and got married soon after we graduated. I was from a small farming town in Iowa and Rob was from New York. Our families and upbringing couldn't have been more different, but when we met something just clicked and that was it.

It happened at a party for one of the stupid tree hugging charities that are on every college campus. We were both there with other people, but it didn't matter. Within 2 minutes of us meeting, the connection between us was palpable. It was like there was electricity passing between us. Our eyes locked on each other and we simply ignored everyone around us.

After a while it was embarrassing. My date started making angry gestures like he wanted to start a fight with Rob or something. Finally Rob's date saved us from the awkwardness of the situation by asking him to take her home.

"I'm really interested in this organization," Rob said smiling at me while he spoke to his date. "Maybe I'll take you home and come right back."

"Perhaps that would be best," the girl said. "Though I doubt that you'll be alone here for long."

"Could you take me home too?" I asked my date. He looked at me as if I was dog shit on his shoe.

"Fuck you," he snapped. "I'm not stupid. So there's no need to play any fucking games. Why should I waste the gas dragging your sorry, whorish ass back to your dorm, just so you can come back here and fuck some other guy?"

He sneered at me. "Good riddance." Then he just walked away and left me standing there.

Dating Rob was a different experience from all of the other guys I'd dated. Actually I hadn't dated that much, but I quickly realized that it was different.

For one thing that awkward "getting to know you" period didn't exist. From the very first moment that he came back to the party, he knew that I'd be there waiting for him. As a matter of fact before he even finally introduced himself to me and we found out each other's names, we knew that this was different.

For one thing, from our very first date it just felt like we were already married. There was no doubt that there wouldn't be any other dating around. No awkward questions about whether or not we'd become exclusive. We both felt it immediately. There was no more "I want to do this with my life. Or after I graduate I'm going to..."

The rest of our lives would be spent not as "I" but as "we."

We told each other everything that we'd gone through up to that point. Our hopes, our dreams and what we'd previously done. None of it mattered anymore. We'd bend our separate futures to fit the new blended existence.

Our past relationships were as different as our backgrounds. Rob had of course at 22 a bit of experience with the opposite sex. I on the other hand had only recently started dating and was determined to be a virgin on my wedding night. My grandmother had, and my mother had as well and I was determined to continue the family tradition.

I expected Rob to freak out a bit about that at first. I was even prepared to bend a bit in my adamant insistence on being a virgin until my wedding night. But Rob told me that if that was what I wanted, it was fine with him as long as he got to be the man I married.

"But don't you need regular sex?" I asked him. He just smiled at me and told me that the feeling he was getting just from standing next to me and holding my hand was way better than sex.

Like you always hear, that started the pattern for our lives. I loved Rob with all of my heart and soul. And he loved me even more than that. It was like he gave me everything he had and then went out and borrowed more and gave me that too.

My entire life changed after that. Even though we were both adults and about to graduate when we met, I quickly started seeing myself as Rob's.

The few guys I had dated found out that I was in a relationship and wanted to know more about it. One guy asked me if now that somebody had "cracked me," if there was a chance that he could "get some" too.

"Get some what?" I asked.

"Get some pussy?" he smiled.

"I don't think that will happen," I told him. "Besides you're asking the wrong person. "You'd have to talk to Rob."

That was the way we saw everything. My lips were where Rob's mouth and his kisses went. My breasts were for Rob to play with. My pussy was where Rob's dick would go after we were married. My ass was where Rob rested his hands when we danced. My womb was where Rob's children would be someday. And most importantly my heart was where all of Rob's love went.

Life right after college was different. I guess in my mind up until I met Rob, I'd always expected to return home and possibly find a job in one of the bigger cities around the small town where I'd grown up.

In the last weeks before we graduated I'd started thinking how difficult it would be for me to leave him and go home. I was all knotted up inside. I think I realized then that what we'd been talking about, all the words of love were real. I could no sooner walk away from him indefinitely, than I could walk away and leave my head on the table. It simply wasn't possible. He was a part of me.

I wondered why he wasn't as knotted and conflicted as I was. I stupidly listened to one of my classmates who told me that men were simply different from women. They weren't as emotional. She told me that where I was emotionally bonded to Rob, men bonded through sex and since we hadn't done it yet. Our bond wasn't affecting Rob as greatly as it did me.

It seemed logical, much in the same way men could have one night stands and just walk away and never call a girl. The girls were often devastated and spent weeks wondering what was wrong with them.

I decided to confront Rob and let him know how I felt. I also wanted to know why he wasn't as bothered as I was about our impending separation. I got myself all worked up over it. I started to think that maybe Rob was getting tired of me and wanted some girl that he could just fuck without having to wait until he married her.

In retrospect, if I'd remembered the lesson I learned back then, I'd still be with Rob now. I can still remember him lying on his couch studying as I barged into his dorm.

"Rob, maybe you don't love me as much as you claim," I yelled. "I'm all busted up and crying about us not being together after graduation next week and here you are calmly studying as if nothing mattered. Can't you see that my life will be awful without you, even if it's only for a short time? Rob I love you. I don't want us to be apart, ever."

He just looked up at me as if I was the village idiot. "Cher, we're not going to be apart for any amount of time." he said calmly.

"Whuh?" I said sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out whether I should simply follow you to Iowa or you should come home to New York with me," he said. "I looked at the biggest thing each has going for it, and the greatest potential benefit to us and possible our kids."

My eyes got even bigger.

"Iowa has that small town charm and the better atmosphere for families," he said. "But the employment possibilities in both of our fields suck. New York on the other hand has all of the career potential that you'd expect in a major city, but I wouldn't want to raise a puppy there let alone our kids. So I decided that the best possible thing for us is to just get an apartment here, move in together and start looking for jobs. As soon as we have some income, we can get married and..."

He never got to finish his sentence. My brain finally started to understand what he'd been saying and I just grabbed him and started kissing him. I literally tried to kiss him to death. I wouldn't even let him breathe. He tried to show me the apartments he'd made appointments to see but nothing he could do got me to let go of him.

My nipples were so hard and I was so wet that if he'd been even a smidgeon less mindful of my wanting to get married a virgin, I wouldn't have made it. I'd have fucked him right then and there on that couch in the dorm, with the door wide open and not cared who saw us.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this?" I finally asked him.

"I didn't think it merited any consideration," he said. "We've both known since the very first second that we met, that we were never going to be apart, right?"

"I guess sometimes, I just need to be reminded of that," I told him, trying to hide my tears.

Our first apartment sucked. It was colder than Alaska in the winter and hotter than Hell in the summer. There were all kinds of bizarre noises from time to time, not enough closet space and too many repairs to do. I loved that place like it was a palace.

Rob got a job doing sales his first week out of school. It took me several more weeks but I finally got a part time job that eventually became full time later. Every cent we could come up with went towards our wedding, or at least the honeymoon.

I'd have simply gone down to the courthouse and married Rob whenever he asked me to, but he reminded me that we were only going to get married once. We may as well do it right. He didn't want me to have regrets or bad feelings about it later. His family did give us several monetary gifts that helped us with both the planning and the staging of the wedding. Unfortunately my family wasn't able or willing to help.

I think that my parents were upset because I hadn't come home after graduation. In fact I think that they thought that I'd gotten pregnant or something and that was why I wasn't home. It took a long time and many visits both ways for them to finally grudgingly accept Rob, and the fact that we really loved each other.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were awful for me. I wanted Rob so badly that I began to regret ever promising to remain a virgin. In the last two weeks before the wedding I started sleeping in Rob's bed. And often when he'd roll over in bed and wrap his arms around me, I seriously considered just fucking him then. There were even a couple of times when he innocently moved up against me while asleep and I'd take all of my clothes off and rub my pussy with him wrapped around me.

Our wedding night was a life changing event for me. We'd scraped together enough money for, literally the shittiest cabin on a cruise ship. It didn't matter because we never saw the fucking deck. I am so glad that we didn't save more money for a nicer cabin, or nicer eating arrangements. It would have been money wasted because we went on a 10 day cruise and only came out of our cabin three or four times.

Rob told me I took to sex like a duck takes to water. I couldn't get enough of him. Over those ten days I made up for lost time. In the space of our honeymoon, I went from sheltered virgin to Rob's personal slut. We tried everything you can imagine. I came home with no virgin holes anywhere on my body.

The next few years saw us growing even closer together. We both advanced in our careers but we did it on our terms. We let our employers know that our jobs meant the world to us, but our marriage was the universe. Rob started out in sales and moved into marketing. He probably could have made more money by staying in sales, but getting ahead there meant traveling. There was no way that either of us wanted that.

It was the same with me. I busted my ass at work. All of my supervisors claimed that I was one of the hardest workers in the company. The only problem they had with me was the fact that no matter what happened during the work day, when it was time for me to go home to my husband, I was out of there.

There were a couple of incidents where I was told that if I couldn't stay after hours, I'd probably be let go. "Okay, I told my manager. I liked working here, but I can get another job pretty easily. Replacing my husband wouldn't be nearly as easy if it was even possible."

Over the years our assets grew. We moved out of the apartment into better ones and finally into a nice home. Both Rob and I, in response to the pressure from his mom (my parents had died in a tornado three years after we got married) had begun to seriously discuss having children.

Rob joked that my biological clock was ticking so loudly that he could hear it from outside. We planned everything including when I should go off the pill. When I should quit my job and even which months I'd most like to be pregnant. We decided to start trying in late summer.

At that time there was nothing really wrong with our marriage. In fact it was perfect, too perfect to last. That was mostly due to Rob. You've heard about marriages that grow stale over time? Ron wouldn't let that happen. He was always surprising me with little gifts or flowers or vacations. We always had several different date nights during the week and we took classes together to try out different activities and keep things fresh. We took an acting class together one summer for the hell of it. The next summer we took up fencing. The summer before it all ended we tried rock climbing only to discover that we were both afraid of heights.

Our sex life was magical, but unfortunately I didn't know that. I guess I'd begun taking Rob and the things he did for me for granted. I worked in an office full of people, mostly women who were a lot younger than my thirty-six years. When I'd tell them that I'd been married for fourteen years, their eyes would roll back in their heads.

"You got married when I was five years old," One girl told me. They often told me about their wild nights and their varieties of lovers. I was intrigued by hearing about being with different men, men with big dicks or smaller ones, fat ones or longer thinner ones. Black men, Asians, romantic Latin men or aggressive bikers all piqued my interest. I was headed for forty and had only had sex with one man for my entire life.

I had no stories to tell of coming into work with a headache from too much liquor and a sore pussy. I didn't have any comparison to throw into the debate about whether rough sex was better than a simple no strings fuck in the broom closet at work with a guy whose name you never found out.

I had never had to lie my way out of forgetting I was going out with someone because I'd booked dates with two or more guys for the same night. I'd never had sex with more than one man at a time.

In fact one of the secretaries told me that I was sexually retarded. I was an anachronism, a throwback to the early twentieth century. They didn't make them like me anymore. I began to be consumed with thoughts of having sex with someone other than Rob. It began to take over most of my waking thoughts.

In a conversation I once mentioned that I was thinking about asking Rob if I could do it. All of the women quickly shut me up.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" they asked. "Your husband will never let you do it. Men are like little boys. They all want to keep us locked up and reserved only for them. It doesn't matter if your husband is getting some on the side, which he probably is. You can't ever let him know that you want to try someone else. In his mind it becomes a competition. Once you've done that you'll cause yourself all kinds of problems. Don't tell him, just do it," they all said.

"Besides even if he does let you do it, then at some point you're going to have to let him have his turn. Are you really prepared to let him fuck some other woman, probably someone younger than you with a nicer ass and bigger tits?"

"Every man on earth doesn't want a nice normal woman like you Cheryl," said my friend Tina. She pointed across the office. They all want girls like Molly. Molly was a temp who had just gotten out of college. She was 5' 10' weighed 115lbs had a 22 inch waist and natural 36DD breasts.

"Can you compete with something like that?" asked Tina. I shook my head, especially since I knew that Molly, though she used to model part time to work her way through college, had confided in me that she was looking for a marriage like mine and a husband like Rob. The thought of Rob getting to fuck her in exchange for me trying out another dick was scary. I'd never get him back.

That settled it, the only thing to do since I only intended to try this once was to figure out what kind of guy I wanted. They all had advantages and I needed to really go for something different. Rob and I were nearing forty so maybe a younger guy who could go all night might be a good thing to try. After a few days of thinking about it, I made up my mind. I think it was partially because of my thoughts about Rob with Molly that made up my mind that youth and enthusiasm was the way to go.

I ended up hooking up with one of our college interns, David Parker. It took a few weeks to get the relationship started. I began to spend time with him away from work and finally moved to the point where he tentatively brushed up against me. When I moaned in response to his fumbling movement he pulled out all of the stops and had me in a hotel room one Wednesday at lunch time.

I wasn't disappointed. He lasted for hours just as advertised. The problem was that being tortured for hours, is still being tortured. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing. It was like he just hit my pussy with a hammer. He didn't care whether it was good for me or not. When we were done he just left the room. I lay there feeling cheap and cheated. I cried my eyes out and had no one to blame but myself.

When I got home I couldn't look Rob in the eyes. I had to go to bed and pretend to be sick. He made me feel even worse; he bent over backwards trying to take care of me. He tried everything he could think of to make me feel better. I was just dirt. I didn't deserve a husband that good.

Within a few days everyone at work knew I'd fucked Dave. He told everyone he could. He even started describing me as his married slut. A lot of the people I worked with started to distance themselves from me and a lot of the guys started hitting on me. One of the managers even tried to pull me into a supply closet and asked me to suck his dick. I realized that for a while I'd been untouchable and special. The predators tend to stay away from faithful married women. But I'd crossed over into slutville, so I was fair game.

Dave kept pushing me and pressuring me for a return visit. I refused and told him I'd file sexual harassment charges against him if he ever mentioned it again. He was young enough that the threat, though unfounded, worked. The thing I hated about Dave the most was that he only actually spoke to me when there was no one else around. He bragged to all of the guys about fucking me. But he only did it to boost his reputation. I got the feeling that while I'd considered him young and attractive and it flattered my ego to think that I could still get someone who was in their early twenties, he saw things differently.

He didn't see me as attractive, only as pussy that he could easily get. Other than that he was ashamed to have people thinking that he'd even consider someone as old as I was. He'd once pointed out to me that I was only a couple of years younger than his mother.

Of course the same women who'd helped me decide to do it in the first place convinced me that I'd simply picked the wrong type of guy. Tina reminded me that I'd gotten with Rob while we were both young any way. Maybe what I needed was a caring gentle older man with even more experience sexually than Rob had. Someone who would also be discreet about things because he'd probably have as much to lose as I would.

Normally I would never have considered it, but they put so much pressure on me to do something to get the whole Dave experience out of my head that I began to give in. They also let me know that I was acting differently, since Dave and that if I kept that up Rob might be able to tell.

None of us knew it but Rob wasn't stupid. We'd been together far too long for him not to really know me. He'd known something was wrong from the first day I'd come home "sick." He didn't know exactly what I'd done but his radar was up.

I met Henry on the internet of all places. I actually went out looking for an older man to have sex with. He seemed to be perfect. His wife was dying in a hospital. Her illness was prolonged. He'd gone years without having sex and he missed it. He was looking for a discreet relationship to just occasionally tend to his urges. I felt so sorry for him that I cried. I felt like it was almost my duty to help this poor man in his pain.

I felt sadder still after our first time. It took me hours to get him up and he could only maintain his erection for a few minutes. He seemed determined to get me off though so he spent nearly an hour eating me. It felt so depressing looking down into his sad eyes as he slobbered away between my eyes that I couldn't get into it and had to fake an orgasm.