Chapter 13

Jim was being nice to Monica. Not just nice, but attentive and loving, which of course made Monica uneasy, wondering what hidden agenda he had going on in the back of his mind.

The previous Saturday, Monica had engaged in a three way with Cole and the girl Monica thought was his daughter, June. Before Monica could call CPS or throw a shoe at Cole, June had sat Monica down and explained that the whole father/daughter relationship had been a ruse. This didn’t exactly put Cole in a good light with Monica, but June encouraged Monica to understand where Cole was coming from. With June soon to leave at the end of high school, the teen actually encouraged Monica to see Cole as the only man in her life that really cared for her.

Given Jim’s actions and attitudes over the previous few months, Monica might have agreed, but then there was this new Jim living under their roof. The man even helped her wash the dishes before going in to take a nap, Sunday midnight being the start of his work week. Her husband’s turn around was strange, even unnerving, but Monica pushed it off. She was sure Jim was only going to come back and make some unreasonable demand of her in the near future.

Of greater importance, or at least taking up more space in her conscious mind, was her brief interaction with Cole that afternoon. Monica had been in the front yard, planning her spring garden, when Cole came walking past. He got right to the point.

“Monica. Are you still speaking to me?”

Monica bristled, unsure of whether to scream epithets at the man or stand and listen, but she remained where she stood under the bare elm in the front yard and shrugged, showing a willingness to hear the man out.

“I can understand how you must feel. June told me of what you talked about. I am glad. But you must understand. All of this was happening before you even moved into this house. After I met you, after I came to know you, everything changed. Please understand. You are everything to me.”

Monica had an entire litany of things to scream at Cole about, but she didn’t want to begin, not with Jim nearby. “Don’t even start Cole. You might think that opening up about you and June makes you look upfront and honest, but you’re still a child abuser. How many years have you had her sharing your bed? No. Don’t want to know. It’s all too disturbing. Just give me a week, or maybe a month. For now, just leave me alone.”

Monica turned and walked into the house. Cole, always wanting to have the last word, gave Monica his saddest face and pleaded, “But Monica. Was it so different when you were that age? Am I so evil?”

That stuck in Monica’s head. Her own introduction to sex had been far more abrupt than what June had talked about. Should she condemn her own illicit lover from years past in the same way she was condemning Cole? The damned hypocrite probably had June in his bed every night that week. She shook it off, not wanting to weigh the differing circumstances, willing to put off judgment for a week or two until she had time to cool off and perhaps talk some more with June.

As before, Monica was in her car and headed for Greg’s place only minutes after Jim had left for work. She had even rumpled the bed, put a dirty dish in the sink and a fresh flower on the table, hoping to make Jim think she had left but minutes before he returned home at 8:30. So far he hadn’t shown any suspicion that Monica was spending her nights at Greg’s. Not that it mattered now. Greg was back with his family, probably bonding with his kids and possibly reuniting with his wife. In Monica’s mind, the only thing she had left to look forward to at Greg’s was her Valentine’s Day kitten. Driving alone in the darkness of a late-winter night, the thought of the kitten made her smile.

Then Monica turned onto the side road and then into Greg’s driveway. Lights were on and Greg’s car was parked in his usual spot, leaving plenty of room for Monica. Her mind was suddenly full of confusion, unsure of what to think or how she should greet Greg. The man had been gone more than two weeks, and in all that time the only communications she ever received from him were short text messages and emails. Valentine’s Day had been a romantic fantasy, then followed by a cold empty winter that made Monica wonder who she really was to Greg.

Monica got out of her car, looked at her overnight bag, and questioned whether she should take it with her. Everything may have changed. Perhaps Greg wouldn’t even want her to stay with him anymore. She didn’t know, so with empty hands and a fearful heart, she walked up the stairs and knocked loudly on the door.

There was the sound of footsteps from within, and then Greg flung open the door.

“Monica! I’ve missed you. Why are you knocking? Come in.”

Monica was nonplussed, unsure of what to feel, torn between wanting to slap Greg silly and hug him. “Greg. Um, just didn’t know who else was with you. Thought this might not be a good time.”

Greg pulled Monica into a one arm hug, tight but tender, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’ve missed you. How can this not be a good time? Did you think I might want to sleep after my flight?”

“How the hell did I know you were going to fly in today?” Monica finally gave in to her frustration and anger, her voice quivering, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “All I’ve gotten from you is a few emails and odd texts. There you were with your wife and kids and I’m left here alone.”

Monica pulled away from Greg, now more embarrassed by her flowing tears than angry at his obvious lack of concern for her. Greg stepped in to fully embrace her.

“Monica. I sent you an email just this morning. Well, yesterday morning now. I told you I’d be flying in. I was hoping you’d meet me. If you’d come to the airport, we could have gone back to that hotel of a few weeks ago.”

“And why the hell do you think I’m going to be watching for company emails on a Sunday?” That was all Monica could get out, her tears and quavering voice getting in the way of all she frustration and fears she held inside. Greg was nice enough to not talk, and after another long moment, Monica finally pulled away and said, “Damn. Let me go get the kitten. Poor thing probably needs more water and food.”

Over the intervening few weeks, the kitten had shredded the lone chair in it’s private bedroom, knocking over a lamp and peeing on a corner of the carpet while openly ignoring the litter box. Monica fussed over the growing ball of fur, then walked over to the bedroom she shared with Greg. Making sure nobody else had accompanied Greg home, she slipped into a simple teddy and prepared for bed.

Greg soon joined Monica and the kitten in the bedroom. “Going to bed? Thank god. I’m exhausted. But why is the cat here?”

“Because with you gone, this little girl is all I’ve had for company.” A lie, but no sense in going into details. “No accidents yet, at least not here. Leave the door open. She knows her way around.”

Greg smiled his acquiescence and quickly stripped to his boxers and climbed under the covers.

“Miss me?” he asked, scooting over to embrace Monica.

“Obviously, Not that you seemed to care, idiot clueless dimwit of a man that you are. Really? You thought an email was enough? A text message saying ‘take care’?”

Greg’s response was a shock to her. “Knock it off with the whining, Monica. I just went through two weeks of hell with my family. I don’t need any of your demands for me to be more understanding.”

Monica froze, her tightened muscles making an obvious statement to Greg. He loosened his hold and at least attempted a partial apology. “Listen, it really was miserable, the whole two weeks, and the flight back was worse. I just wanted to make it back here in time to be with you.”

Greg had more to say, but after groping for words, he rolled over to his side of the bed and pretended sleep.

As the rising winter rays of sun levered their way through the bare trees and bedroom windows, Monica awoke. She was happy for the warmth of the bed even while despairing at the lack of Greg’s presence next to her. Her stomach churned at the thought of the stupid little fight from just hours before. She pulled on a robe and hurried to the kitchen, the smell of coffee being a good sign of a brighter and better day.

Monica was barefoot and was easily able to run up to where Greg had his back to her. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned up to kiss him on his neck and say, “Morning. Sorry about last night. I really missed you.” She had a thousand other things she wanted to say but knew she couldn’t, staying silent and hugging Greg for all she was worth.

Greg turned, attempting a hug back, though without any attempt at apologizing himself. “Its fine. I suppose you had a right to expect more from me than just a bunch of work related emails. I just get so wrapped up in family and work matters back there. I was lucky to make it back at all. Mother wanted to turn this place over to our general manager and keep me at home, and of course there was Lent.”

“Um, Lent?”

“Of course. Ash Wednesday is just two days from now. She wanted me to accompany her, but I insisted on being here today.”

“Well, you should keep your mother happy, but I’m glad to have you in my arms now. What are you making?”

Monica was referring to the dozen or so things that littered the counter by the gas stove. “Preparing your breakfast, of course. I picked up a few things last night on the way in, but I’m still waiting for the centerpiece. They say they’re 24 hour, but it seems they still only rise at dawn.”

Pushing away the many other questions that arose, Monica grabbed a cup of the newly brewed coffee before excusing herself and rushing off to the bathroom. Only after extensive time before the mirror did she return to the kitchen, hoping for a desperately needed second cup of her favorite morning drink. The smells coming from the kitchen reminded her of what a good cook Greg could be when he put his mind to it. There was something in the oven, but he was also busy with an omelet. She’d returned just in time. Then somebody rang the doorbell.

“That’s them,” stated Greg in a flat tone of voice. “About time. This won’t burn. I’ll get it. Get me a cup too. Sit.”

With those orders, Monica prepared the counter where they usually shared their breakfasts and then sat. There was some talk at the door, and Greg suddenly appeared before her with a large bouquet of the strangest plants she had ever seen.

“Happy Birthday! I was looking through a myriad of florists, at all the bouquets of roses but they all looked so unimaginative, and...”

Greg’s explanation was left unfinished when he noticed Monica, her hands up to her face, tears escaping through her fingers and dripping from her chin. “Monica. What’s wrong? Not the flowers I hope. I chose them just for you.”

As Greg’s hands found her shoulders, Monica’s tears stopped and she reached a hand back to hold his. “I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten it’s my birthday.” She half whispered, half sobbed out her admission before turning to hug Greg. “The flowers are beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them.” After a short pause, Monica ran over to grab a paper towel, using it to dry her tears and clean her nose.

“I’ll tell you more about the flowers later. Mostly from South Africa and perhaps the South Pacific. But how can you forget your own birthday? Didn’t anybody else remember? I’m surprised.”

Monica was filled with a flood, of relief and happiness, mostly from Greg being the one to welcome her into her special day. Perhaps that’s why she was so forgiving of the many others that should have remembered for her. “It’s just been a long hectic couple of weeks. Without you here, I’ve just lost track of time. I knew my birthday was coming, but I never put a tack in it or planned on the day.”

Greg seemed flustered. “Well, I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed or angry at what I went through just to be here for your birthday. That night flight here was hell.”

Monica playfully gave him a push, saying “Idiot. I’m more in love with you than ever. I’m yours for the day.”

“No, can’t do that. I’ve got a meeting at the plant in an hour. Should never have told Rory in materials that I was returning. Too late. Time to eat.”

Monica smiled and sat, warming up her coffee and thinking good thoughts. Greg was reverting to form, focused on business and pretending to be flustered when showing how much he cares. She loved it. The food was delicious, though it stretched long as Greg went into deep background about each of the odd plants that made up the basket of tropical flowers that sat on the dining table. Her frustration with Greg’s lack of communication over the previous two weeks had disappeared, and in its place was a desire to make sure the man didn’t forget his place in her heart.

As Greg stood and tried to excuse himself, Monica pulled him over to the front room. She pushed him down into a padded chair, then kneeled before him. Opening up Greg’s morning robe, Monica quickly gained access to the most physical indicator of his sexual interest and need. Monica smiled at the sight, enjoying the long uncircumcised length of male flesh that rose up before her eyes.

“Don’t worry. From the looks of it, you need a little immediate attention. This shouldn’t take long.”

Monica had to raise herself up, leaning up and into the chair to take the tip of Greg’s cock into her mouth. Greg moaned and showed no sign of having any desire for Monica to quicken her efforts. Monica took her time, enjoying the scent of Greg’s soap mixing with Greg’s own manly odor. He was hairy around his scrotum, but not nearly as bad as Cole, especially around his lower stomach. And Greg had developed some patience, learning that left to her own, Monica would eventually have his entire length buried in her throat.

A simple mouth job, easing the man’s pain and tension and with the skills that would make Greg groan with happiness. Yet with Greg in mouth and hand, and finally there before her, Monica wanted more. She suddenly pulled her head back, taking in a deep breath, and then climbed up to straddle Greg’s lap.

“Remember when we did this last fall? Our first time? Well, I’m a hell of a lot more horny now and you owe me a birthday present. To hell with your meeting. Time for a rematch.”

Dropping her own robe and pulling her green satin teddy above her waist, Monica rose up on her knees and then lowered her hips. Over the length of a minute, she carefully impaled herself on Greg’s cock. With both of them moaning as she ground her ass down into his balls, Monica leaned into Greg’s shoulder and began a slow but very deliberate fuck. She had feared that Greg would already be at his limit, quickly unloading himself into her and rushing off to work. He held on, his hands holding tight to Monica’s ass and guiding her pussy up and down his pole, but also holding back from ending their union.

Five minutes on and they had both begun to perspire, each obviously approaching their individual climaxes. Greg finally slid off the chair, Monica still fully impaled on his rod, and rolled over on top of her. Hands still down to hold tight to her ass, Greg began a hard and merciless fuck from on top. His hips pounding into her open legs, Greg seemed to have no regard for the smaller woman under his large frame, intently focused on only satisfying this one carnal urge.

Monica didn’t mind at all. She was riding a wave of sexual satisfaction, feeling-out a potential orgasm, her legs up and stretched out, one foot actually patting Greg’s naked back and urging him on. As though through a consensual agreement, Monica’s loud groans became a scream of delight, announcing her arrival with both legs pulling Greg into her open thighs just as his hard thrusts into her slowed and stopped. With a groan of satisfaction Greg pulled Monica into an embrace, his hips grinding into her even as her own legs held him tight.

After a few minutes, Greg pulled back, lowering his head to be even with Monica’s. A long kiss, and then he rolled to the side with a satisfied sigh.

“Damn, but that was a birthday present I won’t soon forget.” Monica had trouble focusing, her eyes open but everything remained a blur. No matter. She rolled over on top of Greg and returned his kiss, then relaxed and enjoyed the simple pleasure of feeling his naked body under her own. Greg’s eyes were looking at Monica, his mouth bent into a lazy smile, his hands playing along her body. That’s when Monica went lower, slipping down to again take his softer and much wetter and sticky cock into her mouth. She smiled at the taste, knowing very well the taste of their combined secretions and precious bodily fluids.

Monica also smiled at the thought of how much of Greg remained deep inside of her. For all the viscous sperm and cum she was cleaning off of his hard-working dick, his orgasm had been a big one. She had worried that his wife might have given Greg a going away present, coming back to join Monica with little need for her attention. Instead the man seemed to have saved an entire two week’s worth of seed just to pour into Monica. Just thinking of the hard jets of cum Greg had flooded her with made Monica wish she could have the man for the rest of the day. It was obvious he was in need of some loving attention, and she had plenty of energy left to devote to him.

Sadly, Greg finally groaned out an apology and rose to go. He leaned in to hold Monica while saying, “Sorry I didn’t buy you anything special. Everything that came to mind, well, you’d have just had to keep it here in a drawer or the closet.” Meaning that Monica was a married woman and couldn’t flaunt any of the presents Greg had already given her, and so of course wouldn’t be able to use any additional gifts.

“I’ve got what counts right here in my hands. That and swimming around up my twat. For now, you’re mine. That’s all I want.” Greg smiled again, gave another kiss, and rose to go. Monica was able to talk him into a shared shower, but he was then off to the plant, instructing Monica to remain naked while working in her home office.

Monica wanted to stay late, but she received a text from Jim, saying he was making dinner for her and not to work late. It was odd that Monica felt unhappy that Jim had remembered her birthday. It was as though she wanted him to fail, to do such a bad job at being a husband that she could feel good about cheating on him behind his back. Monica chastised herself for being a bitch, wrote out a loving note to Greg, then a similar email, and finally left toward five.

The week went as all previous weeks had gone, happiness in Greg’s arms, even a visit to the plant with him leading her down to check-out the food truck for lunch, but always with Monica having to return home. She made the excuse on Thursday that she had to catch up on work left undone while Greg was away. Jim didn’t seem to mind at all, saying she could stay away all day at work if she needed to, but Saturday was the real day of relaxation and fun. Greg insisted on some work, a full hour and a half being devoted to some video chat with family and others back east. Some sex, some food, some Jacuzzi, and a lot of furry kitten fun.

That Saturday had started off as relaxing and enjoyable, especially with the kitten. Greg finally brought up the need to name the kitten and Monica agreed. “I’ve already named him. I just haven’t spoken it out loud yet. I wanted to wait for you, so that we’d all be together at the same time. Ready?”

With Greg’s assenting nod and bemused smile, Monica held the multi-colored kitten up in both hands and said, “I name you ‘Ashley.’”

“Ashley? Why Ashley?”

“Well, Ash for short. Doubt that I’ll call her by her full name unless she runs over my keyboard again. And Ash because of all her grey. A dozen different colors of grey, with bits of white and black and even orange. I’ve never seen anything like her.”

Greg smiled and seemed satisfied with Monica’s explanation. The day seemed perfect, but after lunch, as the afternoon wore on, he seemed to tighten, to turn in on himself, once even barking out a command for the ‘damned cat’ get away from where he was opening the door. Monica wasn’t surprised, but she was still saddened. He always grew tense when she had to leave, openly choosing to return to her husband rather than stay with him. She cursed Greg for his lack of understanding, yet also cursed herself for being so weak. Choosing Jim over Greg seemed ludicrous, but Greg had to understand that in his arms she was all alone. At least in Jim’s arms she had all of her friends and family and past life to lean upon. With Greg, she had only him, and she wasn’t sure if she could make the blind leap into a full-time relationship just yet.

Monica was reluctantly preparing to leave for home, to return to her role as Jim’s wife, when June called. Monica usually let the phone go straight to voicemail, but it was rare for June to call. A short text was usually enough for the teen, so Monica answered it.

“June. This is a surprise. Haven’t talked to you for a week. So, what’s the emergency?”

“Hiya Monica. Things have been moving more quickly than you might think. Don’t want to dump it all on you at once, so let me just ask you to do something. I know you’re probably just crawling out of bed after a long day of work, but do something for the both of us.”

Monica rankled, but pushed it aside. “Sure June. But what’s going on?”

“Not saying. You tell me. All you have to do is, you know, clean up around the bed. Especially around the nightstand in that game room of Jim’s. I’m betting he keeps you out, saying he’ll take care of everything. Yeah, he sure does. I know he’ll be meeting with Cole tonight. Do it then.”

“What’s going on June? You’re scaring me.”

“You’re a nice trusting girl, Monica. I just want out. Thought I could keep my mouth shut, but shit’s getting too thick and I just want out. If you can’t figure it out for yourself, then I can’t help you any more.”

June hung up, and Monica put her phone away. She left Greg with a big kiss and a promise to see him again soon. She took two steps away before turning and holding his eyes with her own. “Greg. Truthfully. If I asked, could I move in? I mean, for real move in. I’m not asking for marriage or any of that, but could we at least pretend for a while? You know, with me living here full time.”

Greg was stunned. His face became serious and he answered Monica as though he was in a business meeting. “Of course. I’ve asked you before. But why the change? Why now?”

Monica shook her head, and with a last hug to Greg, she ran to her car and left for home. On the way, she planned out her actions yet only imagining what she’d find. She was stupid, trusting, and so full of her life with Cole and Greg and work that she’d forgotten that she was a married woman. Monica cursed herself for being a bad wife, someone Jim had every reason to throw into the street, but with only a few indirect words of advice June had upended everything. Monica was only guessing. Guessing at exactly what and with whom, but she had a good idea. The bigger problem was what to do about it.

At home she pretended to be the loving and naïve wife, preparing dinner for Jim, talking about work and what she planned to buy at the market the next day. Jim seemed distracted, complementing Monica for the simple steak and vege stir-fry she’d made, then saying he had to see Cole about something. June was right about the meeting, so now it was time for a visit to Jim’s game-room.

It was dark, even with the ceiling light. One side of the room was taken up by a small single bed, the rest of the space filled with a table and special gaming chair that cost a week’s wages, a medium sized flatscreen, and other consoles and gear that Monica didn’t even know how to turn on. The games on her laptop and phone were enough for Monica, but Jim did seem to love getting lost in the variety of action games he played while locked inside his room.

June had said something about the bed, particularly about the small nightstand in the corner. On her knees, Monica looked around the table, and only on a second look did she see a small wide-toothed comb. Nothing special, but for the half-dozen or so long black hairs that were attached. Then a quick glance under the bed. No, nothing, but Monica had experience as a woman in places she didn’t belong. On a whim, she pulled the bed out, and upon kneeling on the mattress and looking over the far edge, she spied a yellow thong. Definitely not her size or shape or color, but she could make a good guess: June’s.

Back in the kitchen and with a glass of wine in hand, Monica looked out at the darkened sky and wasn’t surprised to feel relief. With proof of Jim having an affair, she could leave. It was a coward’s move, waiting until her husband had shown an obvious flaw that could be waved before family and friends, but Monica accepted that label.

More unsettling to her was that she had missed all the signs of Jim’s dalliance with June. The teen had certainly left enough verbal hints and jabs. That it required a phone call and specific instructions on where to find the evidence only showed how clueless Monica really was. She was obviously so caught up in her own personal and hopefully hidden sex life that she had completely ignored Jim and his own extramarital activities. She blanched, knowing that she was a dozen times more deserving than Jim of condemnation, but she vowed to take her one best chance at leaving and not bother looking back.

As Monica packed a suitcase, then a second bag, then adding the remaining half-bottle of wine, she thought of how best to present the evidence to Jim. She knew June was trying to get out from under Cole’s heavy thumb, but wasn’t sure of where her affair with Jim came in. June had mentioned wanting to stop with all the games, but why bother with telling Monica anything? Monica had little reason to trust the girl, but decided that she’d first allow Jim to dig his own hole before presenting the damning evidence Monica had found in his game room and sex den. Monica again looked deep within herself for some degree of righteous anger at her partner but could feel nothing. That was the real proof that the marriage was over. She really didn’t give a damn what Jim did with his dick.

She had a friend willing to put her up for a few days. No sense in telling Jim right off that she was moving in with her boss. For the present, let the man steam in his own stew. After the car was packed and a few more remaining items retrieved from the house, Monica walked over to tell Mrs. Flynn that she’d be gone for a few days. It was while she was talking with her neighbor that Jim came walking back home. Monica walked out to meet him.

“Jim. I’m leaving. I’ll be at Patty’s for a while. Don’t call. Please don’t come over. I know about your affair. I have more than just suspicions, but I really don’t care. Face it. It’s over.” Or at least that’s what she thought she’d said. She kept it vague and waited for Jim’s reaction. She thought he’d deny everything, perhaps admit something and beg forgiveness, but his callousness surprised her and only hardened her heart.

“Took you long enough. How’d you find out?”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say that game room of yours smells of more than just your aftershave.”

Jim was silent for a few seconds before answering. “Patty’s huh? She’s that dyke friend of yours. You haven’t gone to the other side have you Monica? Was I that bad in bed?”

“Stop it Jim. The marriage has just fallen apart over the last year.” Monica wanted to leave, just turn and drive off, but she still hadn’t gotten an admission from Jim about his affair. “You can move your fragrant other into the house if you want to. I won’t be back.”

“Yeah. Might do that. And you don’t get any of Patty’s cunt hairs caught in your teeth.”

Monica kept her mouth shut and walked to her car. She thought Jim might hurl more insults, or possibly grab her and demand that she apologize for the shitty way she’d treated him over the past many months. When she turned to look, he was walking into the house without a glance her way. Then she saw Mrs. Flynn in her doorway, and just one house over, June standing in a long sweater and shorts, arms crossed, and wearing a big smile.

At her friend’s and with a last glass of wine, Monica called Greg. “You up for this Greg? I’ve left Jim. Like it or not you’ve got a full-time lover on your hands.”

Greg didn’t waste any time on romantic nonsense. He cut straight to what mattered most. “About time. You two didn’t seem to be the most perfect married couple. And Cole?”

Monica could imagine the narrowed dark eyes, Greg facing her, forcing her to admit to her past and choose her future. “Cole’s long gone. Given the possibility, I’d appreciate it if Cole never came within a mile of me or of work. Is that possible?”

“He’s under contract, but I can put limitations on him. So why aren’t you here now?”

“Legal issues. Might be best if Jim thinks I’m here at a friend’s house and not just playing around with my boss.”

“Fuck the legal issues.” That shocked Monica. Greg was gruff and to the point, but he only rarely cursed. He was either in a very good mood or so focused on something that he was uncaring about any of his surroundings. “I’ve got lawyers. You can hire a front if you want and mine can do the research and paperwork. Doesn’t matter, but I’d rather you just stop playing all the games and start living your own life. Unless of course you’re still unsure about how you feel about me.”