Chapter 3

Pete stood on the porch, wondering 'which way to go'. When he caught himself thinking exactly those words, a sardonic smile forced itself onto his face. "That's sure the question, which way to go," he thought. "'Tis better to face the slings and arrows of outrageous fate, or divorce?"

Thinking the Bard wouldn't have been too interested in his little dilemma, he strode down the walk, then turned left. Wandering the streets aimlessly, he found himself approaching a city park near his home. He hadn't been there in years, but when his son was growing up he spent a minimum of two afternoons during the week, then another 3 hours on a Saturday or Sunday. That was every week during soccer season, he coached the team.

Turning into the gate he wandered to the walking track that circled the big field, large enough to handle two full sized football or soccer fields. Two kids' teams were practicing.

Continuing around the track to the side facing the small river the city sported he found himself a bench and sat down to think and watch the kids kicking the ball around.

For a few moments he amused himself deciding which drills he would put these eleven and twelve year olds through from the dozens he had used himself as a coach.

Solving the old problems, so important fifteen years ago, he found his mind clearing. Soon he turned to thoughts to the disasters that had visited his life in the last week.

Last Monday had been pretty standard, he had dealt with these people before and hadn't expected these negotiations to be different. His company had a product needed in manufacturing the Acme's electronics. It was unique in that by itself did the work of three compounds provided by rest of his industry for this process. They had closely guarded their patented process to manufacture the liquid that saved the using company time and when used properly gave a superior product.

He had intended giving a discount if Acme, a long time customer, signed a three-year contract. But Acme had their own ideas, wanting a larger discount and a two-year contract. There was a lot of money involved, and the two parties sat down to a long bargaining session. When it ran past 8:00 PM on Monday, Acme contacted a local hotel/motel and arranged a room for Tuesday. The room, a large standard hotel room, with en suite bath made everyone's life a lot easier. The queen-sized bed hadn't been removed, but with just himself, an Acme Vice-President, his personal assistant Maurine and the head of manufacturing it had been adequate. They had eaten catered room service meals and happily spent from 9:00 AM to 10:00 PM Tuesday hashing out the contract.

Maurine had proven to be a problem for Pete. She was a buxom woman in her mid-thirties, with a lush figure, a lovely face, dark auburn hair and apparently an immediate lust for Pete.

She hadn't been obvious about it Monday, but by Tuesday afternoon her little touches and caresses had made her desires and needs very clear to Pete. His problem was he and Susan had been too busy the past weekend for their usual romp in the sack. He was horny, and this attractive woman making no bones about what she wanted, at least to him, was giving him an embarrassing bone.

Late Thursday morning they made a break through and arrived at decision. The Vice President along with the Manufacturing Manager had left, leaving Maurine and Pete to complete drawing up the contract. It hadn't taken too much time, using Pete's laptop, and by mid-afternoon they faxed the completed contract to the Acme offices, where it had been signed and a fax sent to Pete and his head office. Pete signed the document produced by his laptop and printer, and the job was done.

Maurine took him to the lounge for a celebratory drink, which led to another and then another. Pete had no idea how many he'd downed, but he suspected Maurine had slipped the bartender a couple twenties to give him doubles. Maurine finally asked him if it wouldn't be better to go back to the room they had been negotiating in and have a meal sent in. She promised to have it paid by Acme. By that time almost anything the attractive woman suggested made sense to Pete so they wandered, arm in arm, back to the room.

Maurine giggled and bounced on the bed, then complained of being too hot. She gave him an extremely seductive semi-strip as she removed her suit jacket and pantyhose. Then telling him he looked too formal for their little dinner party she proceeded to strip him of his jacket, tie, shoes, socks, and finally even his shirt. All the while bestowing caresses and kisses almost everywhere on his body. She even included a foot massage, which left him lying spread-eagled atop the big bed. The next thing he knew, Maurine was curled up next to him, minus her blouse and skirt.

After what he had drunk and with dinner not yet even ordered, his system was not designed to ignore the near nude woman raining kisses and caresses on his chest. Soon he found himself teasing her, then removing her bra and panties.

Maurine kissed her way down his chest, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his trousers as she worked her way down. Before his cloudy mind understood, his shaft was deep into her throat and Pete was receiving as good a blowjob as he had ever had. Being the gentleman he was he couldn't ignore the sexy body kneeling beside him and explored her breasts with one hand, while the other explored the womanly folds and secrets lying between her legs.

It couldn't have been five minutes into their mutual gratification when Maurine screamed out her first orgasm. Things had been cloudy in Pete's mind before that point, after that he only recalled bits and pieces.

--Lifting Maurine by the hips, positioning her over his rock hard pole, maneuvering her until his glans was parting her labia, then dropping her hard onto his erection. She screamed then too, which had alarmed him at the time until she calmed enough to tell him just the sudden full penetration gave her a huge climax.

--Watching his rod disappear inside her, then slowly come back into view as she rode him to another of her innumerable orgasms. Soon she was climaxing every time he reached full penetration inside her, screaming every time.

--Sometime in the night he awoke, wondering why he was so hungry. The hunger problem was wiped from his mind when the woman deep throated him again and soon he was kneeling over her, driving his big meat into her from behind, doggy fashion.

--Wondering where she had come upon such a collection of colored and flavored condoms as she rolled an orange one onto his cock. That was what brought on his later problems. His mind shifted to how much Susan loved orange and he found himself wishing he had found orange condoms back when he and she needed protection.

Thoughts of Susan was never far from his mind after that point. He managed to "perform" more than adequately using the orange condom, but that was the last of his erections. By that time the sun was well up, and he begged the evening was over without hurting her feelings.

He took a shower and dressed to Maurine's dismay. She kept telling him check out time wasn't until 1:00 PM. He tried explaining to her that he was a man in his late forties, and the night had already far exceeded what would have been his expectations if he had been sober.

As he was leaving the room to return to his hotel to grab his luggage and return to Susan Maurine plastered herself against, him trying to get him to stay. The clinch that Susan's friend, Donna, had seen was not a long soulful kiss, but a raunchy woman trying to force a man to give her another bonk. The man in question was trying to leave while leaving Maurine's ego and feelings intact. He was sure it had been longer than five minutes before he had been able to break away.

He had no idea how he hadn't seen Donna, unless she was standing behind him and on the same side of the hall. Whatever, it had fucked up his life.

The two of them never did order dinner, though he suspected they had made a large dent in the stash of drinks in the small refrigerator.

"Susan, I need to know, did you use a condom on your date Saturday night?"

The harsh words spun Susan around as she started up the steps to their room. Before she could answer, the door closed and she was alone in the house. The way things had gone so wrong she wasn't certain he would be returning.

How had she gotten herself in this mess? She understood her insane jealousy when she discovered Pete had cheated on her. The question was why had she held onto that rage so long? She hadn't been a vindictive woman in the past, why now?

Slowly dragging herself up the steps she thought of his question. There was no possibility of Devon having gotten her pregnant. She had a hysterectomy a few years ago. Just a year before her operation, Peter had a vasectomy. But what about STD's? She felt they were unlikely, but their danger hadn't occurred to her until Peter asked that question.

"What have I done?" she thought. "This was even worse than the situation Pete had dropped them into. The hell of it was from what I knew about testing for STD's, any infections I may have picked up would be weeks or even months showing themselves."

She had to call Devon and ask him if there were a danger. He certainly hadn't been worried about the problem Saturday night!

Thinking about Devon another worry came to mind. After what she had done, how I acted with him Saturday, would he assume he had a claim on her as a lover?

Susan sat down on the top step and brooded.

Pete had as much as accused her of making a date with Devon for Saturday just to get even with him. She squirmed around on the steps for a moment. "It wasn't exactly a date," she thought, "but I had asked Devon Friday afternoon if he was going to be dancing at Top of the Town Saturday. I knew he went there often. He told her he wasn't sure and wondered why I had asked? She had told him she'd be there Saturday evening and was hoping to have a few dances with him."

No date, except by implication. She hadn't told the man she was going out with him, but looking at it now he probably assumed her intention was to spend the evening with him. At least some of it...

She burst out, "I sure as hell spent more than some of the night with him! What was I thinking of?"

She spent the evening ignoring her husband, dancing almost every dance with Devon, letting him take all kinds of liberties while they danced. She let him go way past the "getting fresh" stage, and all of it in plain sight of Pete.

How couldn't he get the wrong idea? Then I kept slugging down Margaritas! Toward the end of the evening she couldn't even remember what she had been trying to prove to Pete. By then she only wanted to show him other men found me attractive. But she hadn't seen how far overboard she had gone.

When Pete finally got fed up and told her he was leaving, with his wife or without she got on her high, very drunken horse. No body was giving HER orders. Certainly not after what HE had done to her!

So she snubbed her husband, her Pete.

Sure he'd made a mistake, but even to her now it looked like she'd gone way the heck beyond what he had done. Sure, she didn't know if last week was the only time he had stepped out on her, or if it was the last of a long string. Still she had never felt he had been unfaithful and even last week he hadn't rubbed her nose in it or even tried to lie his way out of it.

It was then that she recalled the sneers and insults that Devon had been casually throwing out about Pete all night long. Most of them were made just to her, but some of his jibes had been at the table and directed right at Pete. Pete had flinched a couple times, and she had expected him to reply. But he never did. What an awful scene that would have been if he had responded! She would have been devastated. Dressed like she was and behaving like she had been everyone would have assumed she was a complete slut.

And, Oh God! She had been acting like one!

He must have been thinking of her, even then. The way she had acted was shameful, and Pete certainly had every right to call her on it. He is a proud man. The only reason he didn't "make something of it" had to have been a desire to protect her from the consequences of the scene that would have happened.

And that look of contempt on Devon's face as he whirled her away just after Pete demanded she leave with him and she had refused! How could she have let that go by, why didn't she stop it then.

She knew men's egos were fragile, but Pete's didn't need to be fragile to be hurt badly the way she allowed Devon to treat him, her husband.

By the way she had treated him. And on a night they had planned to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage. Would there be a twenty-sixth?

The night wasn't too clear in her memory by the time Pete walked out. It got a whole lot foggier afterward. Trying to think about it brought up just bits and pieces. When they got back to the table and Pete was gone she started to panic, but 'good ol' Dev' somehow convinced her that was how Pete wanted it. She really must have wanted to be convinced. They had another drink, which neither needed, then went to collect their coats.

It seemed now that when Devon told her he was taking her home, and she agreed, she thought he was taking her to her home. Of course, he wasn't. When they pulled up in front of his condo she was confused. When he opened her door and helped her out she vaguely remembered trying to tell him she wasn't home. He laughed at her, telling her he knew where home was, and this was it. Then she must have let him lead her docilely into his condo. She didn't remember. The next thing she recalled was Devon hanging up her coat and putting on some music to dance to.