Chapter 1

As divorces go, mine wasn't exactly one for the record books. We managed to settle things without getting the lawyers involved for anything except using the right words on the papers. That's not to say there was no rancor or hurt feelings - there was plenty of each on both sides. Over the last few years, though, we had gotten so used to avoiding conflict, simply because it was too draining, that we just let most things slide.

I didn't really want anything out of the property except my clothes and other things that she would never have a use for, so we agreed that since she had a good paying job, and I was unemployed, she would buy my half of the house in lieu of paying alimony.

I packed all of my worldly belongings into the trunk and back seat of the car that had always been 'mine', and moved to a motel with a DSL hookup. A few days later, my old friend from college replied to my email telling her about the divorce by inviting me to come to San Francisco and stay with her.

Dolores was an attractive hispanic lady, and even after all those years her eyes and figure could set a man on fire. Somehow though, we fit better as friends than lovers. Oh, we had enjoyed sex together, off and on, but the spark was never there. We weren't in love, but we had, almost from the beginning, been able to talk to each other about almost anything.

We stayed in touch after college, through her marriage and divorce, and now mine, and it was only natural that we would once again gravitate toward each other.

The drive up from San Diego, except for getting through L.A., was relaxing and gave me time to think, and to clear my head. I guess I had been in a funk ever since my ex and I decided to go our separate ways.

I think I might have felt better about it had one of us cheated on the other, but, like the rest of our humdrum, middle-class, suburban lives, our break up was just plain old boredom. We just got tired of each other, and nothing seemed to be able to break us out of the doldrums.

So here I was, an overweight, middle-aged man with a car, a computer, some clothes, a little money in the bank, and little else. No job, no home, no prospects.

Dolores welcomed me with open arms, and her fourteen-year-old daughter gave up her Nintendo room with good grace.

I had no sooner gotten all my stuff put in some semblance of order, than Dolores lined me up with an interview at her company. The interview went well, and Dolores' recommendation tipped the scales in my favor. I got the job. It may not have been my dream job, but it paid well and was a damn sight better than the one I had been laid off from.

Of course, I offered to move out, since I could now afford my own place, even at San Francisco rates, but Dolores wouldn't hear of it. Her daughter Felicia and I had hit it off fairly well, too, and she seconded her mother's insistence that I stay, so I made myself at home and pitched in where I could, money and housework-wise.

The first thing I did was buy a membership in a local gym - one where people went to exercise, not to meet other people. The second thing I did was to buy a bicycle. It was about ten miles from Dolores' place to work, and there was a shower at work. I rode to work and back every day that it didn't rain, and on the way back, I stopped at the gym.

Getting back in shape became almost a religion with me, and steadily, I firmed up and my spare tire began losing air. I doubted if I'd ever have those 'six-pack' abs they talk about on TV, but I was starting to look pretty good. I know, because both Dolores' and Felicia's eyes lingered longer on my body these days.

One night, after a late dinner, Dolores invited me into her bed. Since the only sex I had had since the divorce had been with my right hand, I was more than happy to accept. It was almost like taking up where we had left off in college. The sex was just as it had always been - having sex with an old friend. It was pleasant and easy, but hardly mind-blowing.

Afterward, we talked. In college, sex had been the prelude to some of our deepest conversations. I suppose, in our own way, Dolores and I loved each other, but neither was what the other wanted in a spouse.

"So, Gary, am I as good as your ex?" Dolores had always asked these kinds of loaded questions, only from her, they weren't the trap they had been when my wife asked them. Still, one does answer such questions carefully.

"I've always been honest with you, Dolores," I replied, "and I hope that's still what you want."

She smiled warmly and nodded.

"Well, my ex gave better blowjobs," I said, "but I think that was because she didn't much care for the rest of it. She never really had much interest in sex, so there were only a couple of positions allowed, and it was usually more like masturbating with her body than having a sex partner, so in that regard, you're much better."

Dolores gave me that smile that let me know she understood both what I had said and what I hadn't.

"That's what I like about you, Gary." she said, "You don't feel like you have to lie to me. So tell me, if you could design a woman to be your ideal sex partner, what would she be like?"

I thought for a long time on that one, collecting bits and pieces from some of my favorite fantasies.

"She'd be adventurous, and have absolutely no guilt or moral hangups about sex, in any form." I said, "I don't mean she'd have to like everything I do, but she wouldn't judge me for what I enjoy, and wouldn't be ashamed to get me to help with what she likes. Oh yeah, and she'd have a toy collection that she'd use freely on me as well as on herself!"

"Not a good Catholic girl like me, huh?" Dolores waved away my protests, "Hey, I know I'm not your dream lover Gary, and you're not mine. It's the fact that we both recognize that and don't let it come between us that makes us friends. But wait a minute. You said she'd have toys that she'd use on you as well as herself? What do you mean by that?"

I blushed a little, but decided if I couldn't share this with Dolores, I couldn't share it with anybody.

"Well, like I said," I replied, "she'd be adventurous, and part of being adventurous is trying things besides vanilla and chocolate. I don't know. I wouldn't mind trying some D/S or even bondage games, or maybe some dildo play. You know: kinky stuff."

Dolores looked thoughtful for a minute.

"What if she wanted to strap on one of those dildos and fuck you in the ass?" she asked, gazing at me intently, "What if she wanted you to be the woman sometimes?"

I had to think about parts of that.

"Well, I don't know how well I could pull off actually trying to be a woman, but I've always enjoyed a little ass play, and I think it would be sexy as hell to have a woman fuck me in the ass."

"What if she wanted to watch a guy fuck you in the ass?" she asked, "What if she wanted you to suck his dick and let him fuck you? Would you do that?"

I thought even harder about that one.

"You know," I replied, "it's weird. I picture myself, one-on-one with a guy, and it does nothing for me. But add a sexy woman, at whose request I'm doing it, and I get turned on big time! I don't really know why it's that different, but it is. Anyway, that's enough about my dream woman, what about you? What does YOUR ideal sex partner look like?"

Dolores got a faraway look in her eye.

"Ah," she said, "I knew that was coming! Let's just say that my ideal sex partner is hung like a stud horse, has the stamina of a racehorse, and the patience of an elephant, not to mention the sensitivity of a woman. Oh, and he's ready to go at the drop of a hat, but not ready to cum until I am."

"Well," I replied, smiling, "that kind of explains why I never quite rang your chimes! But hey, what about a woman? Maybe one with a big, fat dildo? A runner, or cyclist maybe, for the stamina?"

It was her turn to think for a while.

"Actually, I like women as sex partners," she said, "but there's that whole plastic cock thing. I prefer the real thing, but at least a plastic one doesn't go soft at a critical moment!"

After that, Dolores and I got together for a friendly fuck about once a week. The rest of the time, she seemed preoccupied. Felicia, on the other hand, made it her daily chore to tease me as much as she possibly could.

We both knew there was no way I was going to betray Dolores by making a pass at her underage daughter, but we were open enough about the teasing that I would comment on it in front of her mother. Dolores mostly just smiled, though occasionally she'd make a comment of her own.

"Felicia!" she said one day, "If you absolutely HAVE to bend over and show Gary your cute little ass, at least wear something a little more modest than that thong! He's not Superman you know!"

Felicia had the grace to blush and said, "Okay, mom!"

As she left the room, the little tart gave me a wink over her shoulder. That night, you could hear the headboard banging against the wall halfway down the block as Dolores took pity on me and let me blow off a little steam.

"Damn!" she said, when, finally, I rolled off her, my limp dick slapping wetly against my thigh, "I'll have to buy my daughter some more thongs and mini-skirts!"

"Please don't do that, Dolores!" I begged, "I'm not a child-molester, and God knows, the last thing I want to do is go after your daughter after all that you've done for me, but if she teases me much more, I'm going to be climbing the walls!"

"I was kidding, Gary!" she chided, "I'll talk to her. It's just that since you got back into shape, you're quite a hunk, and she loves that she can turn you on. She probably wouldn't mind you coming on to her, either, but I hope you won't. That would be the end of a beautiful friendship!"