Sing Me a Sad Song

by wordytom

Copyright© 2009 by wordytom

True Sex Story: How often do we not know people because we don't take the time to look? Jack and Kathleen were married for almost eight years and learned neither knew the other.

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   True Story   Tear Jerker   Cheating   Incest   Father   Daughter   .

My wife gave a country singer a blowjob on our bed and loved every swallow of it. At least that's what she told me at the pre divorce meeting.

Here's how it all started and progressed, right up to the end:

I had heard about how affairs and cheating started, sometimes in the workplace, and other times at a party or even a chance meeting in the produce section of the local super mart. With Kathleen, it was none of the above. She backed up right into his car when she pulled out of our driveway.

He was going slow as he tried to figure out where he was. He was lost. As for Kathleen, my wife, she didn't look where she was going. Their bumpers kissed and traded dust and a faint smudge of paint. Nothing was bad enough to warrant a trip to a body shop.

Neither car nor driver was injured. Later, Kathleen told me they just stared at each other and tried to think of something to say. Then she broke the silence. "Come into the house and I'll get you a cup of coffee, if you'd like."

He grinned and said thanks and followed her inside. They sat and talked and played the getting to know you game. They both liked their coffee black, rare steaks and country music. She mentioned we had a pool in our back yard, a sauna and a hot tub with air jets and the works.

"I follow the club circuit, play lead guitar, sing backup and do the keyboard," he told her. The only setup like yours I ever saw was at a spa or whatever hotel I happened to stay at."

Of course, she invited him to come out and see our setup. "My husband lucked into this place and all the goodies on a visit to help straighten out an inheritance issue. The owners were going to lose the property to back taxes and defaulted mortgage payments. "Jack, my husband, made an offer and they jumped at it."

"What does you husband do?" he asked.

"Acquisitions and investments," she answered. "He works for a fund that buys and sells stuff." I knew later, when she admitted to the affair and how it started, exactly what she said. She always described my work the same way.

The truth was, we were a close held mutual fund limited to twenty participants, or investors. I handled the investment side and seldom got involved with the real property. Our house had too many loose ends to interest the company, so I financed it and made it our new home.

Kathleen told me the first day, they kissed and he left. He came back the next day and they fucked. "I never knew I needed it until it happened." Yeah, she needed some strange and never realized it until he touched her where it itched.

Everyone has heard of the seven-year itch. She was right on schedule. It so happened we had just had our seventh anniversary. I had flown her to San Francisco for the weekend to celebrate. I also hoped to rekindle the fires of our romance. For about six months, prior to the country singer, she had grown away from me.

The whole trip was a total loss. "Thank you," she said when I handed her a small jewelry box. Inside were a necklace and earrings I paid out over twenty thousand dollars to have created just for her. The thank you had the same feeling to it as if I had opened a door for her, or passed her a piece of toast.

Needless to say, I received nothing. She had already forgotten my birthday and shined on our seventh anniversary. We flew home in silence. She napped and I sat and thought. The first class section of the plane had frost on the seats, by the time we landed in San Diego.

To cut to the chase, three days after we got back from San Francisco, she met her first lover since we got married. She began to frequent the club where he sang and played. Whenever I went out of town, my wife was at a ringside seat. Later on, she made up excuses to not be home that night and went to be with him almost every weekend.

By then, I had become suspicious. There were all those little things that didn't add up. She began to wear western cut dresses and cowboy boots every Friday night when she "went out with the girls." Western wear on the original Val girl?

Then there was the Sunday morning I found a package of condoms on the kitchen table. Her opened wide purse was flopped over on its side. Even someone as clueless as I was could make that connection. Kathleen carried condoms in her purse! At least she didn't make me wear one yet, was my next thought.

Then I realized we had not had sex in almost a year. For the past eleven months, she had made excuses about why we couldn't have sex. "It's that time of month," was number one for a while. I finally mentioned to her that month long periods were a bit unusual.

"I have a headache." Another time, "I have cramps." After a few months, I quit trying.

Did I live a celibate life during this time? The short answer is yes. I never thought to cheat on my wife. To me, it was something not done. In the circles I was brought up in, people did not cheat, they divorced.

My family members were all lower middle class. Dad was one of the "not quites" of the business world. He was office manager for a medium sized machining company who almost, but "not quite," broke through to the over a hundred thousand dollars a year level.

Kathleen's family was old money. Then her mother ran off with a musician and daddy became a drunk. Although he was a drunk, he was a gentleman about it. Drinking and investing do not mix. Three years into my marriage, he blew the family fortune on some pie in the sky mining venture and blew his brains out with an antique revolver.

My good fortune out of all this was the prenup Daddy Dearest demanded I sign when we got engaged. At the time, their fortune measured in the millions and I had three hundred thousand dollars in student loans to pay off. However, I had a plan, several of them, in fact.

In college, Kathleen had made it as arm candy for the jocks. It did not take her long to realize I was the one the jocks deferred to. And well they should, I was the reason they kept their grade averages up so they could play and graduate.

The coaches loved me and the players all but bowed down to me when I passed them in the halls. Sex? All I had to do was mention I was horny and four or five sweet things from Sorority Row would be waiting in the parking lot. Jocks with passing grades were the gods of campus life. I was the god of the gods and the coaches made certain everyone understood that fact of life.

Then Coach Deti, asked me for a favor. "Jack, the daughter of an old friend needs a term paper. Would you help out?"

"Sure, no problem." I made most of my spending money working as a tutor and writing term papers. I also wrote grant applications and survived. Every penny not needed for living expenses went into my "plan." The plan was my closest held secret.

The next morning, a very attractive young woman, obviously Sorority Row material stood next to my locker. "Are you Jack?" she asked.

"That's me, do I know you?" I searched my memory. Could she be some loaner one of the guys on the football team gave me some time or other? I wondered, searched and felt no recognition.

"Coach Diet said you'd help me with a paper?" She did not look too certain of herself right then. I had a hunch she was accustomed to demanding and not asking.

"When do you need the paper turned in and how many words?" The reason I was so in demand and not just another brain with the ability to write was my whole package. I wrote in the voice of the client and also helped him or her to learn enough about the paper to defend it.

"Tomorrow?" her face scrunched up and she looked up at me as if she expected refusal.

"What's the subject matter?" I wondered if this female was all there.

"Lord Darnley's failure to ascend to the Scottish throne?" This is supposed to be a five thousand word commentary plus my own conclusions?"

"Okay, it's doable. I have already done a couple of papers on that period. The thing is, though, you're going to have to do an all nighter. You up to it?"

"Just one minute." She looked like she was about to begin to yell at me. "I am not a whore. Just give me the paper and I'll pay you."

"Do you know what an all nighter is?" I had a bad feeling about this female.

"Of course, it's where we ... er, they uh have..." She swallowed and added, "all night long."

"Wrong, Einstein." I took a deep breath and continued. "I was referring to the fact that not only do you have to turn in the paper, but you have to defend it in class if called upon to do so. That means you have to cram your mind and not some other portion of your anatomy."

She blushed and frowned. "Why didn't you say so?" She rubbed me the wrong way.

"Then there is the blowjob I get up front before we start." I figured correctly. She glared at me and stormed off.

An hour later Coach Deti caught up with me as I left the Commons. "What happened between you and Kathleen Vander? She said you were filthy and insulting, also disgusting."

"Coach, I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do for the princess. She is a demanding bitch and I don't need the trouble in my life. I have two girls on the swim team to tutor for next week's finals, plus a few other things. Let her get someone else."

"Very well, I'll give you your damned blowjob." She had come up behind me and had listened to Coach and I talk.

"Very well, but Coach has to watch."

"Say what?" Coach yelled.

"What did you just say?" she screeched.

A few others had stopped to listen in on the fray in the making. "He's going to be there to make certain you swallow." Two of the wrestlers high fived each other.

Coach looked around at the crowd gathered and said, "Let's go get a cup of coffee and get this straightened out."

"There's nothing to straighten out," I told him. "I don't like Princess Val Girl's attitude and refuse to put up with it."

We sat in the Hungry Owl coffee shop and discussed the situation. I started the ball rolling. "I already checked her out. Tomorrow's paper is a band-aid on a gaping wound. She is almost failing in Drama, even. I never knew it was possible."

"Ah well, that was the next thing I wanted to discuss with you. I owe Kathleen's father a personal debt I can never repay. We need to bring Kathleen's grades up to passing. You are the only one on campus who could do that and leave no tracks. Please, Jack."

I made a fast decision. She had remained quiet all the time the coach and I had been talking. "I'll have her up to a solid B across the board in all her studies. We study at my place and we study naked. Take it or leave it. I do not like this imitation female."

"You insufferable..." She could not find words to finish her tirade.

"Call me," I told them, paid my bill and left.

At seven o'clock that evening, I let one of the jocks out of my apartment and saw her standing to one side. "Please?" she asked.

"Come in and get naked. You give me some head and if I like it, we'll start." I stood back from the door to permit her to enter.

Her face turned red, her cheeks puffed out and her eyes blazed. "You!" she yelled at me.

"Beat it." I bowed her toward the door.

"We will have sex about midnight." Everything about her pissed me off. I hated rich people with an attitude. I still do and I'm considered quite wealthy in my own right.

"Very well," she whispered. She was a portrait of total surrender.

We both undressed and I waved her over to the second chair by my computer. As soon as the Lord Darnley tab showed, I clicked it and told her, "Read this while I shower."

I stood and rubbed my cock on her bare right arm. She flinched and shuddered. It amused me to watch her fight to keep herself under control. "Be right back."

When I returned a few minutes later, she was deeply engrossed in the paper I had prepared for her. "Prepared" is not quite correct. I prepared the paper for a basketball player the previous year. I could change the POV and voice slightly and have a whole new dissertation tailor made just for her.

The work would be when I tried to teach her enough of the subject matter, about fleas and lice, unwashed bodies and bad hygiene of the time. This would be a problem. The girl had the attention span of a gnat and the self discipline of most spoiled rich bitches.

She was motivated. Daddy told her she would lose her allowance and the use of her charge cards if she failed. A Val girl without a charge card was a pitiful sight to behold. "Time for the first installment," I told her when I came back into the room naked.

"Oh god," she whispered and got busy. When she finished and swallowed, I let her go rinse out her mouth and return to study. She was not a happy camper. We knocked off at midnight and I told her we'd screw later. She sighed her relief and left.

Coach called me the following afternoon. "What in hell did you do to her? I learned her paper was graded with a B. The problem is, she looks like she just lost her pet kitty."

"I made her pay her dues." He gasped. "Just a little oral to take the edge off. That's all."

"Hoo boy, I don't think I'll explain that to her father. What about the rest of her subjects?"

"So long as I tutor her, her lips are mine to command. I don't like her or her attitude. If she does her part, she will have a B average for the semester, and also for the year."

"Do you have room for one more?" he asked.

"Not to tutor," I told him. Papers and background only. You have me stretched pretty thin right now. As it is, I may tell Miss Rich Bitch to move in with me for the rest of the semester, just to have time to get her caught up to speed."

When Kathleen returned for her English refresher, I told her, "You better move in over here for the rest of the semester. Twelve years of private school and two years of college were all wasted on you."

"No," she said in a flat voice.

"Go home," I told her in a disinterested voice.

By sundown, she drove back to her sorority house and packed her bags. She parked her Jag in my parking spot and I helped her carry her bags in. I gave her the chest of drawers and most of the closet. My jeans and tee shirts didn't take up all that much room.

She puckered up and gave me mediocre head and I gave her a good paper. From then until Christmas break, I tutored her and helped her with her papers. Kathleen began to improve. Finally, she paid me a great compliment, the first one ever. "You make it all so easy." She actually smiled.

In addition, during that time, her gripes became fewer and finally stopped. She began to fuss and pamper me. She also became very emotionally dependant on me. I never noticed how attached she was to me until Spring Break.

I spent the holidays with her at her father's house, learned her mother was not in the picture and that Daddy Dear acted like a jealous lover around me. I asked her about that.

She looked embarrassed. "Uh, well ... I..." She blushed. "We never had intercourse."

"Is he where you learned to give head?" I still had that damned urge to dominate her even more than I already did.

"A few times," she mumbled.

"Well, did he return the favor?" I asked. I started to get an erection.

"Oh no, that's dirty." She looked shocked.

"Sounds pretty one sided to me." I made a mental note to do a little nibbling on her pussy that night.

I nibbled and she switched ends so we could sixty-nine. After the first lick across her clit, she decided it wasn't so dirty after all. The next morning Kathleen proposed. I accepted.

Daddy was pissed. Rather than fight the inevitable, he told me, "Of course you understand I must insist you sign a prenuptial agreement."

"That's fine with me. By the time I get my master's, I'll be well on the road to my second million." He frowned at my audacity.

We drove back to the university on New Year's Day and settled down to pre marriage bliss. "Honey, I don't want to fool around with my father any more."

"I rather figured that was a given. I mean, after all." She giggled at my expression.

She snuggled next to me on the sofa and said, "I don't want to do anything with anyone but you. I love you, Jack."

We married during Spring Break and life went on as usual with one exception. The B grade average I pushed her into became a B+ and all because she had learned to apply herself. Kathleen needed a lot of strokes to accomplish anything. So long as I encouraged her, Kathleen excelled at whatever she tried. If I did not encourage her to do her best, her success rate went way down. That should have been a warning.

The Plan, as I called it, went forth with little fanfare and much success. I turned my ten thousand dollars in savings into a half million dollars. The month I graduated, I trebled it and was offered a position with The Fund. It was a match made in heaven. I did a million-dollar buy in and watched my money and The Fund's grow.

Looking back, I realize this was where I fucked up royal. I spent less time at home with Kathleen. Then, right after our sixth anniversary, things started to go to hell for both of us. Her father went broke and killed himself in a fit of drunken remorse. Then the Fund's general partners became greedy. As a limited partner, I could only advise and suggest.

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