Hi folks. This one was suggested by a reader. I hope he likes what came out of his idea. Thanks as usual to sircharles 5150 for his editing skills. SS06

I felt his eyes on me like waves of unwanted heat. I was leaning over a little too far and he was getting an eyeful of my cleavage. Normally my blouse would have been a button down type. And I'd have buttoned it nearly to the top. But I'd worn a v-neck today under a blazer and when the air conditioning failed in the July heat, I was roasting.

I looked up into his face and saw the same look I'd seen on the face of lots of men, for most of my life. "Can I help you with something?" I asked in as cold a voice as I could muster.

"I was just enjoying the view," he smirked. "And wishing I could see more."

My blood started to boil. I immediately got up and went into another office. The office I chose was occupied by the head of the small firm we worked for, Bradley Martin.

"Brad, I want to file sexual harassment charges against that guy," I said pointing out into the office. "He came over to my desk and talked about me like I was a piece of meat."

Brad looked over his glasses at me. His eyes, though he'd had a lot of practice drifted to my chest as well.

"Karen, I'll talk to him about it," he said. "He's young, but he's a good lawyer. We have a lot of cases coming up where we might need him, so I'm not going to fire him this time. But if it happens again, he's gone."

I nodded and turned to leave his office.

"Karen, what's really wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked looking back at him.

"Come on Karen. You were putting guys like him in their place ten years ago when he was in high school. Remember all the shit you gave me before..." He stopped abruptly. And then I started talking just to fill the silence before it became awkward as each of us flashed backwards in our minds. Neither of us wanted to go there.

"I guess I'm just nervous about the weekend," I said quickly.

"But why?" he asked. He had genuine concern written all over his face. "Karen this is your shot. For the past three years, how many times have you sat there whining about everything you would do if only the heavens would split apart to give you one more chance? You've schemed, you've manipulated, you've planned, you've dreamed and you've waited patiently hoping for exactly what you have this weekend. This is your shot, Karen. Don't let nervousness mess it up for you. No one on this planet knows that man the way you do. Go get him."

"Maybe it hasn't been long enough," I said.

"Uh unh!" he said. "Statistically, marriages where the couple reunites within four years after a divorce have the best chance of making it. Look at Joyce and me."

"Exactly," I said. "Are you, back in the house yet?"

"Not yet," he said.

"Have the two of you gone out on as much as one fucking date?" I asked.

"Not yet, but we will," he smiled.

"Brad, she uses you. Anytime she needs or wants something done, she wiggles her little finger and you go running. You're more like her flunky than her husband," I said.

"But sooner or later she's going to get over her anger and I'll be back in there. We had sex last week," he said.

I laughed. "She got horny and called her little vibrator over to get her off, right?"

"Maybe," he said. "But at least I'm back in her life. I'm back in my kids' lives. And sooner or later, I'll be back in her heart. It's far more than I deserve. I've got mine, Karen. Go get yours."

"But I'm so nervous," I said.

"About what?" he laughed. "The guy loved you enough to ask you to spend the rest of his life with him. Just go out there and remind him of what he loved. Sure we screwed up. But time has passed. Let him know that it affected you and you won't do it again."

"It's not that simple," I said. "My daughter, Debbie, hinted that her dad is with someone."

"That's a good sign," he said. "Do you remember some of the women I dated before I got off my ass and started trying to get my family back? The fact that he's dating only proves that he's lonely. He's ready for a relationship again. So you go in there and show him how much better for him you are. Have a great weekend. Come back here happy."

I left the office and Brad called the idiot who'd been trying to hit on me, into his office. I drove home and thought about the weekend. I needed to have just the right outfits so every time Danny saw me he'd remember the things he loved about me.

I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart. Everything that Danny loved about me was gone. I was pushing fifty, my body was failing and my face could no longer launch one leaky rowboat, let alone a thousand ships.

My body had always been unusual. I was built in a way that made men crazy and women jealous. I had long slender legs that drove men crazy. I had a tight tiny ass that looked good in anything. There wasn't an extra ounce of fat anywhere on me except ... my boobs were almost too big. They rocketed away from my tiny rib cage as if they were trying to escape my body.

The jealous girls in my class called me tits on a stick. The boys fought over me. The thing that drove them mad though was the fact that I was a good girl. My parents raised me right. The prettiest girls never have to put out. I was able to keep the boys at arm's length until I met Danny. For my entire life, my plan was to stay a virgin until I was married. It was a really good thing that I met Danny when we were in college, because from the first time he touched me I was ready to give him anything he wanted. Nothing mattered, not the consequences, or anyone's opinion, as long as I got him.

But strangely enough, Danny waited. He treated me like a precious jewel. I remember when Danny first met my Dad. I had gone home for a few days to be with my family and had come back to school early because Danny and I had a date. My mom was one of those women who were paranoid about their cookware. I'd had misgivings about bringing any of her bowls or pans back to school with me, but she'd insisted.

So two days after I got back to school, she'd sent my dad to retrieve her pie pan. My dad is a huge guy, and he's a hell of a practical joker too. He saw me coming out of my apartment with Danny, whom he'd never met, but had heard all about.

He grabbed my arm and Danny inserted himself between us. "Get out of the way, Boy. This doesn't concern you," yelled my dad angrily.

"If it concerns Karen, it does," said Danny quietly. My dad was clearly impressed because he was almost twice Danny's size but Danny showed no sign of backing off.

My dad pulled out a huge gun and leveled it at Danny. "She has something of mine and she doesn't want to give it back," said my dad. "So I'm gonna take it out on her. We have kind of a history together."

Danny's eyes got huge. "What kind of history?" he asked.

"Don't be stupid," said my dad. "Let's just say she's given me more than my share of goodnight kisses, if you know what I mean. I'm not sure I can even count the number of times she's wrapped her arms around me and thrown herself against me."

My dad was torturing Danny. "Wait a minute," laughed my dad. "You haven't slept with her yet have you?" He started laughing. "Why not?" he asked.

"Karen wants to wait until she's married for that," said Danny. "And I care enough about her not to force her to do anything she's not ready for."

My dad just laughed, but I could tell that Danny had really impressed him.

"Look kid, this isn't your fight. Just walk away," said my dad. "It's not worth getting shot over." He raised the gun as if he was going to shoot me.

Danny spread his arms and covered me. My dad just laughed. "So you're going to take a bullet for her ... a chick you haven't even..."

Danny just bit his lip and nodded his head. "I ... I love her," he said.

"Okay, I'll just shoot you both," said my dad. He pulled the trigger and all we could hear was a loud bang. About a second after the shot Danny realized that he could still move and launched himself at my dad. My dad reached out and put his hand on Danny's forehead, laughing his ass off as Danny tried over and over again to swing at him.

"Danny, calm down. It was just a joke," he laughed. Danny looked up at him in confusion.

"How do you know my name?" he asked.

"Uh, you ruined my Christmas," said my dad. "The whole time she was home, she talked about you constantly. If she wasn't talking about you, she was texting you, or on the phone with you. Jeezus it was almost as if you were there with us. I came up here to get her mother's pie plate. So when I saw the two of you, I just had to yank your chain a little."

"But you shot me?" said Danny.

"It's just a big cap pistol," said my dad. "I use it for starting my track team's races back home. It scared the shit out of you didn't it."

After that Danny could do no wrong in my Dad's eyes. He and my mom were convinced that Danny and I would end up married. And it happened. Shortly after we graduated, Danny and I began our fairy tale life together. If things had gone the way they were supposed to we'd still be together now.

As the memory faded, I found myself still standing in front of the mirror. I lifted my heavy breasts and noticed that when I did, the wrinkles and stretch marks disappeared. As soon as I let go of them, instead of shooting out from my rib cage the way they did when I was younger, they drooped down onto my stomach. My nipples once pointed their way to the sky, now they indicated the direction to the floor.

They also were nowhere near as full as they once were. They reminded me of balloons that had lost part of their volume of air. My tummy had also changed. I had never had the ripped abs look, but it had always been trim and tight. I had a small pouch now. But actually that had started before the divorce. Danny had actually to my horror liked it.

I remember times when we'd be spooned on our sides in bed with him behind me rubbing that little round tummy. When he did that it always started a fire between my legs that could only be put out by him watering it down with his cum.

Even as I ran my hands over that same tummy now, I could almost feel him thrusting his dick into me from behind with one hand on one of my breasts and the other still rubbing my tummy.

But I wasn't that woman anymore. My legs had always been thin. But now they're wrinkled too. I turned my back to the mirror and looked over my shoulder at my ass. It had never been very substantial, but now it was positively non-existent. The men these days seem to prefer a bigger booty on their women.

I didn't think that would be a problem with Danny, because he'd never been able to keep his hands off of me. While we were married, I had his number; even when he got pissed at me. If I had done something that really got under his skin, like volunteering him to help out with a repair at one of my friends' houses on his off day, I could always get him to forgive me.

I have a lot of friends who praise the value of lingerie, but who needs it? My best lingerie was a T-shirt. I'd just take my bra off, put the T-shirt on and Danny would get weak in the knees. I remembered that and it made me smile as I picked out clothing to take with me for the weekend.

I packed a T-shirt, of course, presumably to sleep in, but I packed other things as well. I packed three swim suits. One was a one piece that covered everything up. I could actually swim in it. I also packed another one piece suit that put my breasts on display. It would be very risky to swim or do anything active in because my boobs might spill out. The third suit was something only a whore would wear. Hopefully I'd be wearing it for Danny alone. But this was an all out effort for me, so nothing was off of the table. I'd rather have my daughter and son in law question my sense of decorum than risk losing a chance to get my husband back.

Brad was right about some of the things he'd told me. But I needed to be careful. He'd been right about the fact that some of the women he'd tried dating were just awful. Some of them had Ben desperate divorcees. Others had just been sluts or gold diggers. But Brad had in each case realized after a while that there was something missing in each relationship. At a certain point though, Brad had gotten his head out of his ass and realized that he needed to try to get back with his ex-wife. And Joyce had been making him pay ever since.

I was sure that eventually she would take him back. There were several things that pointed to this. For one thing she still hated me. I was sure that she had no idea that Brad and I were working together again. Another thing was the one time I heard her voice, since Brad told me not to answer the phone if I saw either of her numbers on the caller ID was when she left a message for him. In that message, she'd said, "This is Joyce Martin. Please have my husband call me as soon as he's free."

They've been divorced for a longer period of time than Danny and I have, because I fought our divorce and kept it out of court for at least 8 months longer than Brad had. But she still calls him her husband. And she calls him her husband in public and when talking to other people. I think that as much shit as she gives Brad she's going to take him back because she can't imagine being with anyone else. She's just going to make him pay for what he did, until she decides that he's paid enough.

I wish Danny would make me pay. I wish he would keep me on a string, calling me at all hours to do things for him, like Joyce did. I would love the chance to go over on the middle of the night to cook for him or have sex with him. But maybe Danny loved me more than Joyce had Brad. I say this because Joyce and Brad had never lost contact. At first they'd been arguing and fighting and then they calmed down and still spat insults at each other during conversations about their kids. That slowly segued into Brad telling Joyce how much he missed her and Joyce laughing at him. And then she started to blame him for the two of them not being together. And now she was giving him orders and summoning him for booty calls.

I was sure the booty calls would become more frequent and then he'd start sleeping over. After that he would at some point move back into the house and the divorce would be over. Knowing Joyce, she'd probably insist on them re-marrying.

Danny on the other hand, had quietly disappeared. I had looked forward to the chance to try to get him back during the divorce. I wanted one of those meetings that Brad and Joyce had, where I could spill my heart to him like Brad did.

It didn't happen though. Danny let his lawyer handle everything. I never got to speak to him. Since our daughter was already an adult, we didn't have any conversations about her. In fact, I really believe that Debbie and her husband were siding with Danny against me. I constantly asked her about her father when we spoke.

At first she was pretty forthcoming with information. "Mom, he's really depressed," she'd told me. She'd made no secret of her feelings on the subject. Even her tone of voice was rich with recrimination. I cried when she told me that he never left the house except to go to work. He'd spent the holidays alone and it really scared me the following spring when she told me that her father was still driving his Jeep, because he didn't want to go to the trouble of pulling his Mustang out of the garage where it had sat all winter.

That alone made me realize what I had done to him. I had destroyed my husband's sense of self esteem. Men to a certain extent define themselves by their careers and their cars. In Danny's mind, he wasn't worthy of driving his Mustang so he'd simply left it in the garage for a year or so.

After a while, Debbie stopped telling me about her father. "You guys are no longer married," she told me. "He doesn't ask me about you, so I shouldn't violate his privacy by telling you about him. Mom you gave up your chance to be in his life when you did what you did."

That had shaken me up quite a bit. Hearing from Debbie, that Danny didn't ask about me really hurt me. I still asked her about him on a regular basis, every time I spoke to her in fact, but she never answered me.

Maybe Debbie was smarter than I gave her credit for, because lately she'd been occasionally parceling out a kernel or two of vague information.

"Yeah mom, Dad got a new Mustang," she'd told me. A few weeks later she'd told me something even more encouraging. "Mom, I wish it was possible for ALL of us to get together sometimes. I'm so tired of my kids having to visit only certain grandparents at a time. They don't know anything about what happened between you. It would make choosing whom to visit and when so much simpler, if we could all act like adults."

That was when I realized that there had been some holidays when she'd invited Danny and others when I'd been invited. I also started to realize that Danny had been given precedence over me. But I guess it was only fair since I'd been the one who caused the problem.

But last week, I'd gotten what I'd been hoping for during the entire three years that we'd been apart. "Mom, do you want to spend a weekend at dad's lake house?"

"I always loved that place," I'd said immediately. "Do you think he'd mind if we went up there. It would probably be better if you didn't tell him I was going with you."

"Uh, Mom, he's going to be there," she'd said. I dropped to my knees and started crying.

"Mom, calm down, Selena and I thought it was time for us to put the whole family back together," she'd said.

A warning went through my head. "Selena who?" I asked.

"Dad's Selena," she said. "You'll like her."

So I was thinking about all of the really bad women that Brad had gone out with while he was getting his shit together. This Selena was probably one of those. And as Brad had reminded me, Danny dating was a good sign. And this weekend was an opportunity for me to show him what he'd been without. I hoped that Selena had her "A" game ready, because I intended to show Danny what he'd been missing.

The next morning my daughter and son in law picked me up in their SUV. I sat in the back between my two adorable grandchildren, Tony and Helen. The kids were restless as usual and asked me all kinds of questions during the drive.

As we neared the cabin, they became even more restless and started pointing out things in the area. They had obviously been up here since my divorce. I knew this because the last time I'd been at the lake house with them they had been too young to go around on their own. But now at eight and nine years old they knew their way around.

The lake house looked beautiful. The landscaping around the house had been changed. There was a new deck behind the house with lots of comfortable furniture. There was also a boat by the dock and a couple of jet skis. One of the biggest surprises was the flowers that had been planted around the house. The deck and jet skis made sense. Danny was clearly capable of building a deck, but the furniture was so beautiful and so artfully arranged. And the flowers were beautiful. Danny couldn't tell a tulip from a rose, let alone arrange them. I had often thought about planting flowers around the house.

In the back of my mind, a thought was born. Had Danny done all of those things in preparation for the chance to get me back? If so he'd wasted his money, because all he needed to get me back was to crook his little finger.

Even as we pulled in front of the house, my smile and my anticipation grew. I could almost feel the love in the air. As soon as the truck stopped, I heard two almost simultaneous clicks as the scamps next to me released their seat belts and erupted from the car.

They made a beeline for the front of the house screaming, "Grandma," as they ran.

"I'm right here," I yelled after them. Kids are crazy. I guess they expected me to keep up with them. I suppose they forgot that their old granny would be fifty in a few years. But I was so happy that I tried to run to keep up with them. I don't think anyone could measure my surprise at what I saw as I rounded the corner to the front of the large house.

My grandchildren, screaming, "Grandma," ran right into the outstretched arms of some blond woman. My mind rebelled at the thought of them calling anyone that, except for me." Technically, I realized that my son in law, Greg, had a mother as well. She could also be their grandmother. But I'd met Greg's mother before she passed and this woman was nothing like her. She didn't even look old enough to be called Grandma.

She had long curly blond hair. Her hair was wet as if she'd been swimming. She had a long cover-up over whatever she was wearing. She kissed both of my grandchildren and pointed towards the deck.

I was in shock. I had no idea who this interloper was but I was pissed that she was attempting to usurp my title. I wasn't usually that rude but my thoughts sprang unbidden from my lips.

"What the fuck!" I said just loudly enough to be heard.

Danny

"What the fuck!" I screamed far louder than I intended with my kids and grand kids running around the area. Instantly Selena was at my side calming me down. At the same time my daughter, Debbie stepped in front of her mother as if trying to prevent me from seeing her while I got my equilibrium back.

"It's okay, Honey," said Selena, soothingly.

"No it isn't," I yelled. "What the hell is she doing at my house? Who the fuck, invited her?"

Selena's pretty face screwed up and she grabbed me by my collar. "It's not just your house anymore, Danny. It's OUR house. And I invited her. Do you even know how much strain it puts on Debbie with the two of you being unable to even behave in a civil manner? The poor girl has to diplomatically decide which one of her parents to spend Christmas or Thanksgiving with. And the future is just as bad. She has two kids, Danny. They're your first set of grand kids. Do you want to have to miss out on half of their important moments because it's not our turn?"

Everyone had turned to watch Selena read me the riot act. My daughter Debbie was nodding with every word that Selena uttered, while my son in law tried to look away to spare me embarrassment.

"This is going to be uncomfortable for all of us," continued Selena. "Poor Debbie is probably upset now, because she doesn't want her Dad, angry at her for her part in this. Greg was already red with embarrassment even though he had no idea what was going on. Karen doesn't know me and doesn't know that I exist. So coming here and seeing me is probably a shock to her. And for me, Honey, I'm really afraid. You spent most of your life loving Karen. The only reason the two of us are together is because the two of you broke up. How do I know that the two of you won't get over your anger and... ?"

"Because we won't," I said just loudly enough for her to hear. The tone in my voice clearly scared her, because she recoiled from me. That had never happened during all of our time together. I gently took her arm and pulled her around to the side of the house. She turned back to them.

"Debbie, you know where everything is. Make yourself at home. Get everyone comfortable while your dad and I talk. Greg, the new Mustang is in the garage. I'm sure Danny wants you to see it," she said before turning back to me.

"You're an idiot," I spat. I had never spoken to her that way and it clearly hurt her. "Selena, I love you more than anything on the planet. There is no way I would ever..." At moments like that words weren't enough. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. I wrapped my arms around her minuscule waist and pulled us even closer together. She melted against me molding her body to my form as my hands drifted down to her well rounded hips, settling on her ass. She moaned and became almost boneless in my caress.

Behind us, I heard my grandson Tony, screaming, "Hey guys, Grandma and Grandpa are on the side of the house kissing!"

"Honey, just roll with it," she said. "Just pretend she isn't here. Do it for Debbie and your Grandkids. I just want everyone to be happy."

"Whatever," I said. I was still pissed about being dragged into it. I watched as Selena walked back to the front of the house and four children who were eager for her attention.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself before leaving the side of the house. As my anger faded and my hands stopped shaking, I thought back to the last time I'd seen Karen.

It was a little over three years ago. I was in bed with her spooned against me. We were warm and cozy and as soon as I regained consciousness, my mind tuned to her. I was a healthy forty five year old guy who had been in love with the same woman for more than twenty five years. My first waking thoughts were, "I'm awake," and "Where's Karen?"

Besides my conscious mind, even my body sought her. My arms wrapped more protectively and more lovingly around her. My morning wood tried to bury itself in her tiny ass. To make things even more intense, I had been out of town on a business trip for the past two days but even two days away from her was torture for me. I had gotten in late the previous night and she'd been asleep when I got in.

She'd moaned as I hugged her and immediately scooted away from me and rolled onto her back. She spread her legs and pulled me on top of her. My dick isn't huge, but Karen is really tiny below the waist. She clearly missed me because she wrapped her legs and arms around me and just started slamming her hips against me as if she couldn't wait.

"We have a lot of time to make up for, Mister," she growled. That was the last intelligible thing either of us said as we lost ourselves to the intensity of our coupling. Karen acted as if I'd been away forever, instead of just two days.

We quickly worked up a sweat and Karen let me know how much she missed me. Her screams and yodeling reverberated all over the house. Our daughter Debbie was out of the house and had kids of her own so there was no need for us to hold back.

After she was sated, I still had to pee so I got out of bed. "Aren't you going to get up and shower with me?" I asked.

"Unh uh" she said. "I don't have to be up for about an hour. I'm going to lie here and enjoy our smell. I leaned over and squeezed one of her enormous boobs. I dropped to my knees beside the bed and starting sucking one of her nipples.

"Maybe you should get back in here with me," she smiled. "Go pee and come back and do me again."

I went to the bathroom with exactly that thought in my mind. I loved Karen. To me her body was a work of art. Her thin legs and tiny ass didn't fit her boobs and upper body, but most guys couldn't look past her boobs. But it was more than that. I loved her personality, her spirit and everything else about her. Karen had her moods and her idiosyncrasies like everyone else, but I only loved her more for them.

"Put the God damned seat back down," she screamed after I flushed the toilet in the connected bathroom. I decided to surprise her with the gift that I'd bought her, while I was out of town.

I went downstairs and looked for the suitcase that I'd left her gift inside of. On my way to the suitcases, I passed the hall table where we usually left the mail. I opened a couple of the envelopes and then bolted back up the stairs.

I slammed the door of our bedroom open as hard as I could. The door rocketed away from me so hard that it slammed into the wall. The spring loaded door stopper snapped and the doorknob imbedded itself in the dry wall.

Karen sat straight up in bed. Her eyes were as big as saucers.

"What's... ?" she began.

"Who the fuck, is he?" I yelled.

"Who's who?" she asked, stupidly.

"The guy you've been fucking!" I screamed.

"But I haven't been..." she muttered. She stopped before even completing the sentence as she saw the look on my face. I was angrier than I had ever been on my entire life. My blood boiled. My heart was beating at almost three times its normal speed. I understood at that moment why so many men have heart attacks when they find out that their wives have been unfaithful to them.

I had never struck Karen or any woman in my life. But at that moment if she had told me another lie, I'm not sure if I'd have been able to hold myself back.

For most of my life I had always looked down on men who hit women. But at that moment I understood Mike Tyson's quote about how the best punch he ever threw was at Robin Givens. I imagined myself driving my fist into Karen's face so hard that it went completely through her head, coming out the back. I saw myself having to use my feet on her chest to get my arm out of her shattered skull.

I've heard that old wives tale about how you can' trust turn love off and on. They are totally wrong. Because when my blood started to boil, it burned away every iota of love I felt for Karen.

I think that she understood the danger she was in, then. But maybe she didn't. Maybe, she thought that what we were having was simply another of those run of the mill arguments that every couple goes through.