I was fresh off my divorce and definitely in need for some companionship when I spotted her in the bar, the same one, McGilly’s, that I frequented many a night when I was single. Thankfully, it hadn’t gone too far downhill, and neither had the ginger that I met. She wasn’t alone, mind you. There was some Indian fellow that I had never met before sitting there with her, but I wasn’t sure if they were dating or not. I was definitely curious about her and couldn’t help but check her out. She had auburn hair, freckles, and a plumb, buxom figure, with large breasts and buttocks.

“Hey ... is she ... I mean ... I’m a bit rusty with this, being newly divorced, but are you dating her?” I asked the Indian fellow who had sat with her when she left for the ladies’ room.

“Nah, not anymore,” the man grinned at me, which I found reassuring.

“Thanks,” I said as the ginger returned, at which point I noticed a wedding band on her.

“Um, excuse me, but are you married?” I asked her directly, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, why do you ask?” she frowned out of curiosity.

“Because your friend here said that he’s not dating you, but he never mentioned a husband of any kind,” I indicated the man next to her.

“Really?” the woman responded, blushing more than a little.

“Yes, really,” I told her, as the man near her coughed and tossed back another beer.

“Well, since you’re interested enough in me to get all nosy, let me be frank and admit that right now, my marriage is in a bit of trouble and looking worse by the second. Seems that my husband has a very inappropriate sense of humor and likes taking jokes far beyond the pale. Name’s Heather, by the way,” she told me her first name only, but I could understand that, given that we just met.

“Let me be Frank as well, since that’s my name,” I grinned, making her blush and laugh, while the friend was suspiciously quiet, “sorry, the marriage thing might sound like a stupid question, but some people fail to take off their wedding bands until they’ve been divorced for a bit. Others not so much. My ex still wears her ring, for some unknown reason.”

“That’s not unknown. It’s really not a mystery. She doesn’t consider the divorce to be permanent or real. She might be in denial, at least from how you’re behaving, but no, your ex doesn’t see herself as an ex at all. I can tell you that right away. Women who are really divorced in their minds will lose that fucking ring as fast as they can. A little free tip about women, since like most men, you seem a bit confused by us,” Heather corrected me.

“Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind about Chloe. It might at least partly explain why we’re divorced, at least,” I blushed a little myself now.

“Yeah, I find that men really don’t get how women think, and while women can with men at times, it doesn’t make sense to us. At least partly why men can’t read us, which is pretty damn funny if you think about it. We think that we’re sending you signals loud and clear, but you’re completely oblivious to the signs,” Heather said as she stared at her friend for a moment, shooting him daggers for some reason.

“Well, part of it is actually quite simple. We men say what’s on our minds a lot more. We have less of a tendency to use sarcasm or passive aggression or anything like that. We just come right out and speak up about it. We make the mistake of assuming that women will, which is admittedly one of my pitfalls, because I have to stop to remind myself that a woman isn’t being direct and candid with me,” I confessed, making Heather laugh as she actually bought me a drink.

“Woah, that was nice of you! Thank you,” I thanked Heather, who laughed even harder, even as her friend shook his head for a moment, though his meaning was unclear to me.

“See, this is an example of my meaning here. I bought you a drink. This means that I’m hitting on you. I mean, it’s also a clear sign that you haven’t dated in a while and perhaps you’re not used to women doing this for men, but still... , “ Heather trailed off for a second, “wait, women have never bought you a drink before, have they?”

“Nope, I’m used to women expecting men to pay the tab or paying their own, but never paying for a man. Equality goes only so far, or at least it did,” I chuckled as I put back my Glenlivet.

“I understand that kind of cynicism, and coming from a divorced man, it’s quite normal, trust me. I’m a paralegal. I’ve seen a bit of it, to put it mildly. Freshly divorced men are especially prone to view women in a negative light, as schemers and manipulators, and sad to say, many of the women that I’ve met in that field have given me reason for seeing their point of view. Especially cheaters, and yet ironically, right now, that’s what I want to be. If you’re up to it,” Heather told me, downing a fifth of Jameson in front of me.

“Have you ever cheated on your husband?” I asked Heather, who shook her head.

“Nope, not once, even with as much he’s annoyed me,” she admitted to me, blushing, as she took my hand and almost dragged me to the ladies’ room.

The Indian guy that sat with us gave us a completely stunned look of absolute bewilderment now.

“Why here and not the men’s room?” I was curious, though not in a mood to refuse her advances.

“Because here, he could get into as much trouble as you if he follows us here,” Heather told me rather bluntly, even as she took out a joint and lit it, “sorry, I need this for my nerves. It’s not every day that I fucking commit adultery, but I’m done being nice. He wants to play these games, let him learn the fucking price for them.”

“O ... kay,” I made a mental note that she had the classic ginger temper, to put it mildly.

The next thing that I knew, while I tried to process hidden clues as to what Heather meant by her last words, my pants were down at my ankles and her lips were wrapped around my cock. Nor was she a slouch. Heather gave me a blowjob, still wearing her wedding band, I might add, that could melt lead easily. It felt like a fucking sauna around my dick as she practically inhaled it and licked every last spot of my circumcised prick. Her tongue ran all over me, from head to base, slathering me in a way that nearly made my knees buckle. Chloe was good at many things, but not fellatio, not like this.

“Oh ... fuck me... , “ I let slip.

“Well, that’s next, but first... , “ Heather grabbed my balls and caressed them just right, making me jerk and flinch, spurting a bit without warning directly into her mouth.

Far from acting offended or spitting it out, as Chloe used to do, Heather simply worked my cock to get more out and let it hit her tongue before swallowing every single drop. She winked at me, much to my utter astonishment, and then took my junk in hand to stroke it a bit and keep it from getting soft just yet. Another wink and she hiked up her denim skirt to show me her lace panties, which she slid down to her ankles in a hurry.

“Condoms?” I asked her, curious as to how far she’d take the adultery, whether or not we’d bareback it.

“Nope. It’s freestyle time, babe. I’ve never cheated and you’ve just been divorced after being married how long, even if you seem as skeptical about monogamy as I am these days. It might not be perfectly safe, but if I give hubby the clap, he can thank his heavy-handed pranks for that. This one went way too far. I’m not going overboard. Just letting him experience the natural consequences of his actions. Cause and effect,” Heather told me as she bent over and offered me whichever hole I wished, or so it seemed to me.

“A ... guy could think that you’re making an offer of both holes, you know,” I pointed out.

“That’s because I am. He’s gotta face the music. If he gets mad for that, well, we can have it out afterward. I’d rather break up than deal with his bullshit anymore. Rajiv has got to learn this isn’t funny,” Heather told me as I slid my the first few inches of my thick rod into her bushy twat.

“Rajiv? Not the guy who was at the bar with you, was it?” I asked her to be sure.

“That’s the one. The one who claimed that I wasn’t dating him. That’s because we haven’t been on a date in months and he thinks that these kinds of jokes are funny. Pranks like this. Well, this will teach him! If he wants a divorce after that, it’s on him, but he had to learn the consequences of such practical jokes. This one went too far. He implied that he doesn’t care what I do? Okay, well, this is what I’d do if he wasn’t a factor. Fuck the next hairy dude in the bar, and I do mean hairy, aren’t you? I love it!” Heather confessed as she took me deeper now.