One Way Love

by StangStar06

Copyright© 2014 by StangStar06

Drama Sex Story: I always loved her more than she loved me

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Cheating   Slut Wife   Rough   Big Breasts   Revenge   Violent   .

Hi Folks, Sorry this isn't the one I promised you. It isn't the sci fi piece that I've started. This one pushed its way out while I was working on that one. The song from this one is called "One Way Love." It was sung by EG Daily in that old John Cusak Movie, "Better off Dead." My wife and I caught it on TV the other night and this came out. Thanks to the great Barney-R for his editing wizardry. And thanks to cheesy late night movies for inspiration. SS06

Be careful what you wish for ... you might just get it. The problem I have now is that I wished for what I got so hard, that I now question my sanity. I committed the ultimate evil ... well okay, I helped; but I did it for something that in the cold light of day, turned out to be worthless.

Temporary insanity is probably what ruined my life. It was supercharged by a healthy dose of genuine, old-fashioned lust.

My only excuse is that we're all human. We all make mistakes. When you add to that the fact that ... shit, how do I say this. Okay, I've always been a princess. My Daddy treated me like a princess. Every man I ever dated did, and my husband did too. I was used to getting what I wanted when I wanted it.

My life has always been perfect. The house, I'm in right now was designed and built for me. It's not the biggest house, but it's very special. It's in a beautiful neighborhood in the most exclusive suburb in our state.

My husband busted his ass getting me this house, and I took it for granted. We got married five years ago when we were twenty five. We'd been together for three years. I met him at his graduation from college. I was there to watch a friend graduate, and we ran into each other. It was love at first sight.

I had never met a man who looked at me the way Terry did. I could see my future in his eyes. Terry was totally devoted to me. He wasn't the most handsome man I've ever met nor the biggest, but he worked so damned hard to impress me that I was bowled over.

Terry had a great career as an engineer, but he was the black sheep in his family. All of the men in his family are cops or firefighters.

Everything in our life was perfect until three months ago. Once again, it was a celebration and an unplanned meeting that destroyed everything. I was at an event at Terry's job where he was receiving an award for some modification he had made to some sort of car part. While, Terry stood up to receive his award and make a speech. I got up to see him more clearly and to get an unobstructed view of the stage, so I could take pictures of him.

I was so busy looking at my husband through the lens of the camera, that I wasn't watching where I was going. I backed into a mountain of a man. My camera flew, and I crashed to the floor.

I looked up and began muttering apologies only to stop in mid sentence. Leaning over me was the biggest, most beautiful man I had ever seen.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked as his voice was more a rumble than actual words. It sounded as if a mountain was talking. The timber and pitch of his voice reminded me of Barry White. He sounded more like boulders rolling down the side of a mountain than words.

He reached out a huge appendage that was more like a paw than a hand. Without even trying, he lifted me off the ground and back to my feet. I stood there watching him, too shocked even to speak.

"So are ya okay?" he rumbled. I did manage to nod several times. I was awash in waves of lust so powerful that they wiped out my ability to reason. I've heard of that happening, but I never believed it.

Someone handed me my broken and forgotten camera, while I stood there staring at him. "Uh sorry, for uhm bumping into you," I muttered.

"No harm done," he said. "Do you work here?"

"Uhm, I'm here with my ... uh husband," I blurted out. "Uhm ... him." I pointed at the stage nervously.

"Ohh!" he said. "Terry Stevens. The wonder boy himself. No wonder he's so driven. My brother talks about him all the time. But now that I've seen what he gets to come home to, I know why my brother has never had a chance."

His flattery got to me, and I'm sure I turned several shades of red. His physique seemed to be too primal to be contained in a suit. He looked as if he would burst the seams of the flimsy garment at any second.

"Do you work here?" I asked.

"I wish," he said. "I'm not nearly smart enough for something like that. I'm Fred Lee; I work at the health club downtown." He fished in his pocket and handed me a card. "Your first session is free," he said.

I locked the card inside of my sweaty palm as if it was solid gold.

"It was nice meeting you," he said. And then he walked away. I'm sure that if he had asked me to leave with him, I would have. My husband and the presentation and the speech he was delivering at that moment was forgotten.

Two days later, I had both, a membership in the club, and a place on his burgeoning client list. I later came to find that Fred's client list contained only wealthy women. Most of them were married and the majority of them were over forty. I was the youngest woman on his list at twenty-nine years old.

I wish I could say that he had to bust his ass to get me, but I'd be lying. Before I met Fred, I was so in love with Terry that I would never have considered having sex with another man; any other man. But from our first session, it was clear that we both knew that the two of us would end up in bed.

Our workout sessions, were merely foreplay and were abandoned as soon as Fred got into my pussy. Sex with Fred could hardly he called that. It was as if you needed a new word to describe it.

His dick was huge. It had to be almost as big as my forearm. And it hurt really badly the first few times, but I was quickly addicted to him.

Within a week, I was Fred's whore. I found myself dreaming of sucking his dick although I never did it. Fred wasn't really a foreplay guy. He always wanted to get inside of me as quickly as he could, and I couldn't say no to him.

Terry of course loved me, so it didn't take him very long to figure out that something was going on. He was also smart enough to pin down the fact that I had begun acting "weird," at about the same time that I joined the gym.

I was too blinded by lust to notice that Terry had, in fact, pinned it down. So when he walked into the gym and saw me kissing Fred, I was afraid to go home. Terry immediately went to the manager's office and canceled my membership.

He explained to the owner of the club why he was doing it. Once the owner of the club found out what was going on, he fired Fred. Fred had a huge client list, but Terry's company, through their health plan gave the club almost half of their business.

When Terry got home that evening, he didn't even speak to me. He changed clothes and immediately left again. I was in shock. I had prepared a story to explain what he had seen. But as I watched the blacked out tail lights of his 2014 Mustang rocket out of our driveway, I knew that I was in trouble.

Terry got back long after I had gone to bed. I had tried to stay up to wait for him, but I succumbed to stress, tension, and fear. I was up early the next morning and caught him coming out of the shower. He had slept in our guest room, which told me a lot.

For the next couple of days, Terry avoided me. He left before I awoke each morning and never actually settled in until after I was asleep. I finally cornered him about three days after it had happened. I had rehearsed what I was gong to say, but I never got the chance.

"Terry, what you saw..." I began.

"Britney, I think it would be better if you stayed with your parents for a few days," he said.

"But how are we going to work things out if we don't..." I began again. He held his hand up, which indicated that I should be quiet.

"Britney, before WE can begin to discuss HOW we can work things out; I have to decide IF we can work things out," he said. I was shocked. "To do that..." he continued. "I have to calm down and let my anger fade so I can make a rational decision instead of one that's based on an emotional reaction."

"But Terry, I..." I began.

"Don't Britney," he said. "You lost your right to say things like that. I'll call your parents and tell them to expect you. You can take your car."

I was floored. There had never been a time in my life when anyone didn't want me around them.

As he left he turned to me one last time. "I'm expecting a delivery this morning. I told the guy that there probably won't be anyone here. Not that it matters anymore, but I'll move it when I get home," he said.

My shock became fear. I had no idea what was going on with Terry. This wasn't like him at all. Terry didn't do or buy anything without discussing it with me. But I realized then that a lot of things weren't 't the way they were supposed to be.

As Terry drove off, the fact that he neither said nor kissed me good-bye wasn't lost on me. I considered ignoring what he'd told me to do. After all, it was my house too. Terry was my husband not my owner.

However, I realized that antagonizing him was not in my best interest. I had started to pack a few things when my cell phone rang.

"Hey Babe, can you talk?" asked Fred.

"Yes," I said.

"Old Terry, doesn't play, does he?" he asked. "Just so you know; we'll have to meet somewhere else from now on. My boss fired me."

I didn't know what to say. He started talking to me about his other opportunities and how easy it would be for him to switch to another club. I was amazed at the thought that I would still want to be with him. I was even more amazed when less than an hour later, we were having sex in my bed.

Fred looked around the house like a kid in a candy store. It was obvious that he was impressed with the house and the well maintained though modest yard.

As we were talking about what came next, a tow truck pulled through the gate and into my yard. As we watched from the window two men unloaded some kind of car. Fred started to kiss me, which I knew was only the beginning of him wanting more sex. I was distracted. I wanted to look under that car cover to see what Terry had bought.

For some reason, that car scared the shit out of me. I was still in shock that Terry had made a major purchase without checking with me. Terry and I did everything together. We made all of our decisions jointly. All of a sudden, he was doing things without even telling me, let alone conferring with me.

After the delivery guys left, I told Fred that I needed to leave too. It was a three-hour drive to my parent's house, and I hadn't packed anything yet. I also needed to clean up the room to make sure that Terry had no idea of what we'd done.

Fred promised to call me that night and left.

When I arrived at my parents' house, they didn't understand what was going on. My parents loved Terry, and me coming home had them worried. I told them that Terry was just working on a project and needed some space.

It worked for the first few days, but on Saturday morning, I awoke to find only my mother in the house.

"Where's dad?" I asked her over coffee.

"He drove down to the city to talk to Terry," she said. "Honey we know something is going on with you guys. You've been here for three days, and he hasn't called you once. You look like hell and that man worships the ground you walk on. Now this may be just as you said, but it may be something else too. Your dad just wants to help."

Dad got home at around eight o'clock that evening. He was all smiles. As he spoke to mom. "My God, the man has a 67!" he said.

"He has 67 what?" asked my Mom.

"Our son in law has managed to acquire himself a 1967 Mustang Fastback," said my dad excitedly.

"Doesn't he have a brand-new Mustang?" asked my mom. "Why does he want another one, especially one that's like 47 years old?"

I heard my dad telling her the next part in a lower voice. It was as if he didn't want me to hear him.

"I think he's trying to get over something. You know Terry. When something bothers him, he immerses himself in a new project. It's nothing to worry about," he said. My mom nodded and went into the kitchen to make him something to eat.

My dad came over to me then. "You need to go home tomorrow," he said. "I don't know what stupid thing you've done. But you need to fix it."

I was stunned. My dad had never spoken to me like that before. His face softened then.

"Britney, I love you, Baby, but Terry does too. In all of the time, the two of you have been together, I've never seen him like this. He always talks about what the two of you are going to do, and how much he loves you. You know that he, and I have a deal. Your first son is going to be named after me. However, today he was so different. He didn't talk about the future at all. He also didn't talk about you. It was almost as if you weren't going to be a part of his life in the future," he said.

I felt as if a cold hand had just grabbed my throat. It was too late to start the long drive then, but I packed my things and kissed my parents good-bye. I left very early the next morning. I didn't need to set an alarm because I didn't sleep a wink that night. I watched the clock. Before it was light, I was on the road.

Even with a stop to eat when the sun came up, I made good time. I did encounter some heavier traffic that slowed me down. By the time that I got to the house, it was just after 8 a.m.

The stop for breakfast had delayed me more than I'd thought. I had intended to arrive home before Terry left for work. The confusing thing for me was that Terry started work at 9. It only took him a half-hour to drive to work. He should have still been there.

At least, my key still worked. I walked into the house to a huge surprise. Our house normally looked ready for a magazine spread. Terry and I were both very neat people. We also had a cleaning lady who came in twice a week to handle the heavy cleaning. But when I walked in that morning, the place was a mess.

It looked like a drunken race car driver was living there. I had to thread my way through liquor bottles, car parts, car magazines, and pages of notes. And that was only the living room. The office was the same story. The kitchen looked as if someone had let their child loose in there. Well ... an alcoholic child. There were half eaten bowls of cereal, pizza boxes, and more liquor bottles.

I walked into our bedroom and had to take a serious look around. I didn't see a single thing out of place. It looked as if no one had been in the room since I left it. The drawer I had gotten some of my clothes out of was still half open, the way I had left it.

I went down the hall and saw that Terry had been sleeping in one of the other bedrooms. For some reason, that hurt me more than anything else had. I could have understood it if Terry had known that I'd had sex in our room with Fred. But since he didn't, it meant that as my Dad had warned, Terry was clearly ejecting me from his life and his heart. I needed to tread very carefully.

There was also the fact that I had no idea what I wanted to do. My head was constantly spinning. When I was around Fred, I couldn't think. It was as if my brain just shut off, and my pussy took over running things. When Fred wasn't around and my brain functioned, I knew that I was messing up.

I spent most of the day working to clean the house. Since I hadn't heard from Fred, I got a chance to think clearly. I realized that I was in trouble. But I didn't think it was anything that I couldn't get through. Terry and I had several couples in our circle where one of the partners had slipped and had a fling. The majority of them had been able to work through it. From what I understood, it wasn't an easy process, but they'd done it. I was sure that we could too.

I started making dinner as soon as I finished with the house. I made Terry's favorite meal, my pot roast with stewed vegetables. I also made myself as pretty as I had ever been. I did my makeup as if we were going out on the town. But I kept my clothing low key. I wore an older pair of shorts that Terry loved to see me in. And I wore one of his Mustang T-shirts on top. My whole look said that I was ready for my man.

I may as well have been wearing a burlap bag and a gorilla mask. I got nervous as I heard the sound of Terry's Mustang pulling into the driveway. He came in, looked right through me, dropped his briefcase off in the office, and headed up the stairs. I was floored. I began to think that maybe he hadn't seen me. Maybe he didn't realize that I was back.

A few moments later, he came bounding back down the stairs. He looked around and found his iPod, clipped it to his running shorts and left the house. I couldn't figure it out. Terry usually spent some time with me before he went out to run. This was the time when we sat down and talked about our day and what we'd done while we'd been apart.

If we were going out, he did come home and do his run just to get it out of the way. But I had no idea where we were going that he needed to run this early. At any rate, it was a good thing. With his run out of the way, we could sit down and talk.

However, when he came back it was like something out of a movie. He walked right past me, ignoring my greeting. I felt like one of those characters in a movie where a person is dead and doesn't know it. They try to communicate with the people around them only to find out that no one can see them or hear them.

He went into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and ordered a pizza. Then he went upstairs and took a shower. Almost as if he'd done it so many times that he had the timing down he bounced back down the stairs in an old T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, just as the pizza guy rang the door bell.

He carried the pizza and a soda he grabbed from the refrigerator straight out to the garage. I was floored. He was singing a song as he passed me.

"Never know if you're a victim or the fool, I only know I can't stop thinking about you,

Love was good and you take it on the run, but I fell too hard I guess I ain't the one."

Terry did that. He picked out songs that reflected the way he felt to listen to while he ran or while he worked. I wish I knew what God damned song he was listening to so it could tell me a lot about his mood and how he was feeling. That would let me know whether it was going to be hard for me to fix things, or if it was just going to take time.

I waited for a while and then opened the door to the garage just a crack. I saw Terry sitting there on his stool. He had a wrench in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. Our usually immaculate garage had all kinds of parts strewn all over it.

I was expecting him to be working on his new project, but he seemed to be taking it apart. I had no idea why he would buy a car just to take it apart. I was sure that it had something to do with blocking me out of his mind, though.

I just needed to wait him out. That was what he'd told me in the first place. When he was ready, we'd talk. We would probably talk that night. How long could he stay out there in the garage?

A long ass time, it seemed. He totally immersed himself in his music and his project. By the time I could no longer keep my eyes open, he was still out there, mumbling along to the music from his iPod and taking that car apart.

When I woke up the next morning, he was already gone. I had to admit that what was going on wasn't what I had imagined. I had expected for there to be a lot of yelling and talking and some hand wringing before we decided that we were both to blame. It was mostly me but in some ways Terry was also to blame. We would rededicate ourselves to our marriage and each other, and things would slowly go back to normal.

Sometime in the future, Terry would do the same thing, and I would forgive him. Our marriage would be stronger for it. But apparently, Terry had no idea of how a normal marriage worked. I sat down at my kitchen table with no idea of what would happen next.

The ringing of my phone at least gave me something to take my mind off of what was going on.

"Hey Babe, sorry I've been out of touch for the past couple of days. But your little husband really did a number on me," said Fred. Just hearing his voice excited me. I knew that I should hang up on him, but I was a woman who needed and deserved a lot of attention. Besides just listening to him couldn't do any harm. I also wanted to know what the hell he was talking about.

"I can't find a job anywhere," he said. "No health club or gym in town will hire me. My personal training clients are dropping me like a hot rock because I'm not allowed to train them anywhere. Not only will most of the clubs not put me on staff; they won't allow me to work out of them. They're all worried about being sued if I put the moves on the wrong old lady. I ought to kick your husband's ass."

I had to admit that I was surprised. Terry was a handsome and charming man. That was why I married him. But I never would have expected him to handle Fred so effortlessly. I guess I had imagined any conflict between them as being a physical one and that Fred would easily mop up the floor with my husband.

That had also given me the idea in the back of my mind that Fred deserved me more, being the better man. But Terry ruined Fred without even working up a sweat. It was all I could do not to laugh.

"Is he home?" asked Fred. I was sure that I detected a bit of fear in his tone.

"Nope, he's at work," I said.

"Good, I'll be there in ten," he said.

Ten minutes later, he showed up at the door. The results were predictable. The problem was that Fred was like a drug. The first few times had been powerful and overwhelming. However, this time, it was different. By this time I'd seen his entire bag of tricks, and although he filled my pussy more than any man I had ever known, I had noticed something about it. There was something lacking. It wasn't a physical thing, but there was just something missing.

It began to feel ... the same. It was as if we'd done it enough times for me not to be surprised or swept up in it. Maybe it was the fact that the man I thought was practically invulnerable, was showing his vulnerability. The man who had dominated me and seemed like a force of nature had been defeated, demoralized, and dominated himself, by Terry.

Meanwhile, I had begun to notice exactly how sexy the man I married is. The real problem was that he no longer wanted anything to do with me.

I couldn't believe it, but as that huge mountain of a man pounded away at me, I began to imagine Terry in his place.

"So how are things going with the husband?" he asked when we were finished.

"He's so angry that he doesn't even speak to me," I said. "It's as if I was a ghost."

"He's trying to burn you out of his heart," he smirked. "Interesting. I wonder if he'll make it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"Some of the men in his situation discover some sort of backbone," he said. "They try different things. I've had a couple of guys try to fight me. A couple of smarter ones paid me to leave their wives alone. There was one guy who hired a hit man to take me out. That was bad. I ended up having to move back here. But your little hubby. He's smart as a fuckin' tack. And he has balls. Big giant king-sized balls."

"Whah?" I asked.

"Don't you see it?" he asked. "The guy walked into that club, took one look at me, sized me up, and went to war. He realized that the two of us brawling wouldn't be a good thing for him, so he fought me on a different level.

"I took something from him, so he took more back from me. I took one woman from him, or at least, that was the way I looked at it. He took or tried to take all of my women away from me. That motherfucker is scary. In less than five minutes, he seems to have fucked up my world and my livelihood. Every club in town ... every club in the state said not only no, but hell no, to me. I even offered to work for free in some of them if I can train my clients in them.

"And now you're telling me something that I should have expected," he said.

"What's that?" I asked. I was mildly amused at the unease in his voice.

"Besides a backbone, he seems to have a lot of self-respect," he said.

"Of course he does," I said. "I wouldn't have married a man who didn't respect himself."

He just laughed. "You have no idea what's going on, do you?" he asked. "He loves you, or loved you. You were his biggest weakness, but he feels like you betrayed him. Some men would struggle with that. The love would battle with that self-respect. Apparently in his case, the self-respect seems to have won. He's burning you out of his heart. He's simply not the forgiving type."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"I think he's done with you," he smirked. He saw my reaction and laughed. "Face it, Honey. You've used all of your moves. You dolled yourself up and made yourself all sexy, and he didn't give a damn. Your charm has worn off for him."

"What should I do?" I asked.

"Shit, why are you asking me?" he asked. "How the hell should I know? I've never been in love in my whole life."

"But you..." I began. "You... ?"

"What? You can say it. I fucked you. I never once told you that I was in love with you or any of that shit. If you're looking for love, ya ain't gonna get it from me."

"You ruined my life, " I screamed.

"If you were so God damned happy, you should have kept your legs closed," he said. "Besides, ignoring you, what else has he done?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"This could go at least two ways," he told me. "He could just be giving you the silent treatment as the first part of your punishment. If that's it, he could be planning some really unpleasant things for you before he forgives you. That would be the best-case scenario. Has he locked you out of the bank accounts or anything like that?"

"No, all of my cards still work," I told him.

"Good, give me some money," he said.

"Why should I give you a dime?" I asked.

"Because I'm the one advising you and helping you through this," he said. "Face it lady, I'm all you've got right now."

I had to admit that the advice he gave me made sense. Over the next few days, Fred became like my best girlfriend. Well ... like a girlfriend who fucked me. Okay a girlfriend who fucked me and kept taking money from me.

We came up with all kinds of things I could do to get Terry to forgive me. The problem was that none of them worked. Then came the day that the shit really hit the fan. I was waiting for Fred to come over and dreading having sex with him when the car pulled up.

A woman got out of the car. She was a few years younger than I am. She looked like a college student. As she got closer, I could tell she was chewing gum. I remembered chewing a lot of gum when I was in school.

"Hey, are you Britney Stevens?" she asked. I just nodded.

"I don't believe you," she said. "You look like you, there's no way you're thirty."

"I am," I said smiling. "Do you want to see my license?"

"Yeah!" She said and cracked her gum a couple of times really loudly. "Your husband sent me to deliver something to you and you don't look old enough to be thirty years old."

The flattery, combined with the fact that she'd said Terry was sending me something sent me reeling. It was just like Terry. He was always sending me flowers or invitations to come to lunch or dinner with him. The fact that he was actually communicating with me gave me hope that I could see light at the end of the tunnel. I got my wallet and showed her my driver's license.

"Wow, great picture," she said. "You are Britney Stevens; you are thirty years old, and you are SERVED," she said handing me a folder full of papers. She cracked her gum loudly and walked off. By the time I got my head out of my ass long enough to feel stupid about the way that she played me, she was back in her car and pulling away.

For a long time, I just stood there, clutching the folder. Tears sprang unbidden from my eyes. The heat of the tears surprised me. It had been a long time since I had cried. In fact, my entire marriage to Terry had been one long period of happiness. I couldn't believe that he wanted to end it.

It was only sex. This was no reason for us to divorce. This was only a misunderstanding. We just saw things differently. In our pre-marriage counseling they had warned us against letting our differences separate us.

If I caught Terry fucking that red-headed secretary of his, I wouldn't have divorced him. I'd have made him fire her, but I wouldn't have divorced him. Terry's secretary was so obviously in love with him that it was funny. Terry like most men was oblivious to it. She was; I had to admit a really pretty woman, and she was younger than I am. But Terry was so in love with me that she could have shown up for work without panties and wearing a "Fuck Me," T-shirt, and he wouldn't have noticed.

The main reason that I kept her around was because she was my cat. With her around none of the mice could get close to Terry. She watched him like a hawk to make sure that none of those smart, sexy female engineers or those young nubile interns could get near him. And now Terry wanted a divorce. How would I face my family and friends?

I wandered back I to the house leaving the door open. I was locked inside my head that I never heard Fred walk in.

"What's eating you?" he asked. I just held up the papers. He chuckled.

"Well I guess we knew this was coming didn't we?" he rumbled. "Well this is it!"

"This is what?" I asked.

"This is our chance to get back at him," he smiled. "We're gonna make this divorce so hard on him that he'll end it."

"You mean I can get him back?" I asked. He just smiled and nodded.

"And if you can't get him back we'll take him for every cent he has," he said. "He'll spend the rest of his life working for us."

"What do you mean us?" I asked. I was beginning to see that Fred might not be my friend. I knew that he didn't love me. He had said as much. But at that point, I wasn't even sure if he was on my side.

"You need my help and my advice," he said. "And I don't work for free."

"Why do I need your help?" I asked.

"Because you're too emotional to handle this," he rumbled. "You aren't thinking clearly, and neither is he. Like have you ever thought about what grounds he has for the divorce?"

"You and I are having sex. I cheated on him," I said.

"Never say that again," he snapped.

"But it's true," I said. He just shook his head.

"Dummy, this is the law," he spat. "They don't give a fuck about the truth. All they care about is what you can prove. Your hubby caught us kissing. Both of us will go into court and swear that it was only a kiss. You made a break-through on one of the exercises in your workout. We hugged each other in celebration of that milestone. The hug turned into an inadvertent kiss that your husband walked in on. He has no proof that anything else has ever occurred. He has never seen nor heard about us ever having sex."

"Can it really be that easy?" I asked. He just nodded.

"There are two options for him," he said. "He can either go for a no-fault divorce, in which case you two will split everything fifty/fifty with you probably getting alimony for a while in addition to your share of everything. Or he can try to prove infidelity in the hope that with the right judge you might end up with next to nothing. But he has no proof, and we have to make sure he doesn't get any."

"Now will we do that?" I asked.

"From now on, we have to be very careful," he said. "When we get together to fuck, we have to make sure that no one sees us together. We also have to assume that he'll have a bug on your house phone. That works in our favor because I've never called your house phone."

By that time, he was pawing one of my breasts with his huge hand and leading me towards my bedroom. "But I don't want to have sex with you," I said. "That's the thing that started this whole mess."

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You can't afford to piss me off. I'm the only person who's on your side in this. I'm your only ally. It would be a disaster for you to upset me. Imagine the harm I could do if I went to his side. I could go into court and tell the truth. I could tell them how my clients were all women that I had sex with. I could tell them how you couldn't resist me, and we had sex every time we got together. I could tell them that we did it here in his own bed, and that you gave me money. Believe me, the truth is not your friend. Now take off your clothes."

"But you have all of those other women," I said. "You can fuck one of them."

"Most of them are gone," he said. "Besides you are the youngest woman on my list. You're the only one under forty. You also haven't had a baby yet. Your pussy is still wet and tight. You're the tightest of all of them. I enjoy forcing my big dick into that tight, tiny little pussy. There are a couple of those old bags that can really move, while you tend to just lie there, but tight is tight so you win hands down."

As I've mentioned, when it came to sex, the bloom was off of the rose. I had figured out what was missing. Our sex was just that, it was sex. What was missing was the emotion that Terry put into it? When he had me, I was always amazed at how much the love just poured out of his eyes and every touch. There was no questioning the fact that he loved me. Sex with Fred was just sex. He could have been screwing a pocket pussy or a blow up doll. The only thing that mattered to him was filling something with his cum.

The only thing I could be glad about was that he always used a condom. Terry and I had been delaying having children until we were ready. Lately, we'd begun talking about it so I'd gone off of the pill. Having a child accidentally with Fred would have ruined my life even more.

"Hey, roll over and get on top of me," he growled. I realized then that even as he sawed away at me, my mind was somewhere else. I had forgotten that we were having sex. He wanted me more involved in the act, so he wanted me on top.

"Can you move, or just do something?" he said. "I might as well be screwing a blow up doll and baby you may be..." He stopped abruptly and threw me off of him.

"Oh shit," he yelled. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and left the room. He threw his clothes on in the hall.

When I got into the hallway, he was fully dressed and on his phone talking in very hushed tones. He looked at me as if I was stupid.

"Get dressed," he said. "I have a friend who's on his way."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Your hubby is no dummy," he said. "I told you that this was us against him right?"

I nodded. "Well he is definitely going for the jugular. He's doing everything the right way. He didn't stop you from moving back into the house. Courts look at that sympathetically. He didn't close any of your accounts, which was another good move. The court will see him in an extremely positive way. I don't think he's going for the no-fault divorce he said. He's going for the throat."

"I thought you said he would need proof for that," I sobbed. "You said he had no proof. I don't want a divorce. I want Terry back!"

"You may have to settle for taking his money," he said. "I think he has proof."

"How?" I asked. "You said that it was his word against ours."

"I think I saw one of those tiny cameras above the bed," he said. "I didn't think he was able to move this quickly. He probably had the whole house wired while you were out. He may have all the proof he needs. You might be out on your pretty little ass."

We sat on the porch waiting for his friend. He arrived a short time later. He was a small nerdy looking guy in a hopped-up Japanese car. It was one of those cars with a huge exhaust pipe on the back of it. Those cars always made Terry laugh. He constantly said the drivers had watched the 'Fast and the Furious' movies too many times.

I can still see his face smirking as he'd blow by one of them on the freeway. Until now, it never seemed to make much difference to me. "What do you get when you put a big exhaust pipe on a shitty little car?" he'd asked me once. I had no idea.

"A louder shitty car," he had replied while laughing his ass off.

The nerd got out of his loud shitty car and walked around my house with all kinds of hand-held electronic devices. From the way the guy looked and acted, I was sure that one of those hand-held electronic devices was a vibrator, and that he used it often. I really didn't like the way he looked at me.

He came back to us shaking his head. He gestured for us to be quiet and to go out on the porch. I started to ask him what the hell was going on, but he held up his hand for silence. He scanned the porch and walked us out near the curb.

"Fred, the place is wired up like NASA," he said. "I found at least twelve cameras and there are bugs and mics too. The phone is also tapped. Judging from the frequencies involved, it's PI type stuff and state of the art."

"So what can you do?" asked Fred.

"What do you want me to do?" asked the nerd. "I can locate and pull it all out. I can jam it; I can even erase anything that's there that hasn't been downloaded yet."

"Jam it now," said Fred. "And erase anything that hasn't 't been sent."

"Can you afford to have me do that?" asked the nerd. "It'll cost you five hundred."

"Give the man five hundred bucks," Fred told me. I looked at him crazily. "It's a lot cheaper than giving your husband more evidence to use against you in court. Instead of a cushy divorce settlement, think about having to move back with your parents permanently." I gave the nerd the cash I had and wrote a check for the balance.

"Legally, jamming is a much better option," said the nerd. "If it was the homeowner who put the devices in the home, you could go to jail for removing them." He stepped back inside of the house and went about his business.

"Video of last week has already been sent, so there's nothing we can do about it. I'm pretty sure that this shit was already here last week before you left. So our little get together last week is probably already going to be used as evidence. The only thing we can do is hope to cut down on the amount of evidence, but this really doesn't look good. I have to come up with something. It may take me a couple of days. In the mean while, don't call me. When I have something, I'll contact you. But if I were you, I would try really hard to make up with the guy. If you can get him in bed that might help," said Fred.

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