I sit here on this bar stool nursing my fifth beer, wondering 'why me?' I realize that I have led a full life and that I was a little wild when I was young and foolish, but I guess there is no fool like an old fool.
I knew my greatest mistake, or maybe my worst discovery, was an errant nail. Let me start at the beginning. My name is Robert Michael Forsythe; I am 60 years old today, and I discovered yesterday that my wife of 24 years has been unfaithful to me for at least the past ten years. My wife is eight years my junior and we met when I was just starting as a manager in training for a packaging firm north of Pittsburg in western Pennsylvania. I had just retired from the US Army as a Major when the military was being downsized back in 1988.
I was a bad boy when I was younger. My parents worked a farm for most of my life, until I was about 14 when we moved into the city after my father left the farm in western New York to my older brother and his wife. I was a late in life baby; my mom was 42 when I was born and my next oldest sibling was my sister, Gretchen, at 19, then came my brother, James, who was 22. Because I worked on that farm for most of my life, I was quite strong. I was tall at 5-11, but skinny at 105 lbs. At school, there was one boy who was the biggest bully there. His name was Gordon Turner, and he was the star running back for the football team. He was about 5-11, but weighed in at 140 and none of it was fat. He had always left me alone, but not some of my friends.
I had glasses at 14, you know the big, thick, black-rimmed ones, and I was smart. We were tested for IQ when we entered high school, and mine was 141. Anyway, right before school started one day when I was 16, Gordon was pushing two of my friends around and demanding lunch money. James Sherman was about 5-5 and maybe 130 lbs, and Bill Hiller was 5-6 and 90 lbs, and neither was very strong or athletic; they would have been today's typical nerds. Gordon punched James in the arm hard, and he fell. I walked over and pulled Gordon around by the cocked arm that was aimed for Bill, and as he came around, I hit him on the side of the jaw, then in the stomach. Gordon went down and I told him, "If you want to fight, pick on me, not these two," and the three of us walked away.
Needless to say, I was called into the Principal's office and was suspended for ten days for fighting. Gordon received no punishment. When I got home, my punishment was a whipping from a lilac switch across my bare ass. It was at least two hours before I could sit at all, and even then I needed a very soft pillow. I tried to explain my side of the story, but since I was condemned by the school, I was wrong and they were right.
I must say this, though; at 61 my father was a force to be reckoned with after all that work on the farm. He was short on temper and long on discipline. After my ten day suspension, I came back and Gordon had a small party waiting for me. He now enlisted the help of three of his teammates, since his jaw was wired shut and he had 2 cracked ribs, courtesy of me. The three jumped me about a block from school and two of them each grabbed an arm to hold me as Tim Bryant, the center, attempted to pound on me for Gordon. I surprised them all by dragging the two holding my arms in front of me just as Tim threw his first punch, which hit Gary Silver in his left kidney, and he was out of the fight. As he dropped my arm, I elbowed Henry Darling in the stomach, then backhanded him to his face as well. Now it was just Tim and I, and I proceeded to beat him fiercely, and he was soon down on the ground. Henry was getting up when I kicked him in the chest and I heard a crack. I looked for Gordon and saw him running toward school.
Needles to say, by the time I got to school, the police were there and I could see ambulances heading for where I left Gordon's friends. I was taken to jail and I appeared before a judge and my father the next day. I explained my side of the story of both fights and Gordon's prior bullying, to no avail however. The judge asked my father if he would prefer that I went to the juvenile detention center until I was eighteen or if he would sign a waiver, I could go into the service for a four year minimum hitch. My father signed the waiver and I was sent to boot camp the very next day.
My career with the Army was really to my advantage. I entered the service as a very disgruntled grunt, and retired twenty years later as a Major with full retirement entitlements and a bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering and a master's in business administration. I tried to find work around my hometown in New York, but there was nothing. I did find a packaging plant just over the border in Pennsylvania. They were looking for management trainees, and I submitted my resume and got an interview. With my new military bearing and my degrees, I was hired on the spot and over the next 24 years, I went from trainee to CEO. When I retired early at age 60, I was still a member of the company's Board of Directors.
Within a month of starting, I met Ellen Harper, a 28 year old secretary to the assistant director of operations. I found out that she was still single and had been hit on by just about every man in the office, including some of the salesmen who came in. I asked if she would show me around to get me acquainted with the operation and how things worked here, as well as the area. Ellen had been at the company for four years now.
At 36, I was 6'-1", 195 lbs, very fit, and I guess I was considered handsome by some. I had never married, although I never wanted for female companionship since entering the service. With me being new to the area and to the company, I needed help adapting. Ellen thought she could help me in that regard. We were dating exclusively within six months, and at nine months, I asked this dynamo for her hand in marriage. I was ready to settle down and be with one woman for the rest of my life. She accepted and we were wed before the year was up.
I had not made love to Ellen before our engagement, and only when we had set a date did I ask if it would be alright if we became lovers. I insisted that she either be on the pill or I would use condoms. I had always been a 'be prepared' kind of guy. I think Ellen appreciated that in me. I took things slow in my courting her and I hoped that she appreciated that as well, even though the time from when we started dating to our marriage was short.
My God, the sex was fantastic. Our first night was such a grand event. We went to Red Lobster, her favorite restaurant for dinner, then to a lounge we had frequented for dancing and some drinks. She asked me to take her home at eleven that night. I said 'sure', and as I was driving to her apartment, she said, "No, Bob, your place, not mine."
This was new. I drove to my apartment, we went upstairs, and I led her in. I asked if she wanted something to drink, and she said, "No, Bob, we came here for things other than more drinks," as she headed into my bedroom, unbuttoning her blouse. Needless to say, I followed in the wake of her shed clothes. When I arrived in the bedroom, I saw an angel lying on my bed in her bra and panties. I quickly shed my clothes down to my boxers, then joined her on the bed after folding her clothes and mine, putting them on a chair.
From there I proceeded to kiss every bit of her that I could get to, starting with her face and finishing up at her toes, going back to her bra covered breasts, where I found that she had on a front snap bra. I unsnapped it, and peeling the cups from her mounds, I kissed each exposed inch of her magnificent mammaries. Calling them tits somehow just didn't seem appropriate to me at the time or place. I continued to kiss, nibble, and tease her flesh as goose bumps rose all over her body. I then proceeded south with my hand, caressing her steaming flesh. As I rubbed her mound with my fingers, I could feel the wetness increase dramatically. Ellen was moaning and saying "My God ... so good. I never expected!" then I heard, "I'm coming, I'm coming already, and you haven't even started yet. I love you, Robert Forsythe!" My last name was drawn out as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. I continued to slowly rub her mound, but stayed away from her clit and nether lips.
Once she calmed down some, I slipped my fingers into her panties and pulled slightly as she arched her butt on the bed, allowing me to remove her soaked and soggy panties. Once they were off her body, I took them into the bathroom and put them in the sink, retrieved a towel, and went back to the bedroom. I slid the towel under her and she looked at me questioningly. I said, "I'm sure that neither of us wants to sleep in the wet spot once we are done here."
I saw love in her eyes, and there was more there too, but I was unsure about what it was. I think it might have been gratitude for thinking ahead.
.... There is more of this story ...