Bab 2585: AGREEING WITH MY WIFE
My name is Mark. I have chestnut hair I keep cut short with hazel eyes. I stand at a solid 6'1" and, for the most part, have been lucky enough to keep the fat off weighing 225 lbs. in muscle. I am now 41 years old and an addict, albeit sober for 12 years. For many years, I was a despicable man. My ex-wife was on the wrong side of many drunken outbursts. I was a degenerate gambler on top of it.
On the night she left me, I came home from a disappointing night. I had made a three team parlay bet. The unlikely scenarios had played out in my favor. Who would have thought those two teams would both upset the top two teams on the same night? But then the one game that was a sure-thing also ended with an upset. One that I had not bet on. That was a huge loss for me. So I had stopped off at the bar for a drink. But a stop at the bar never ended with just one drink. By the time I had gotten home, it was well past yesterday and into the early morning of tomorrow. Of course, I was not quiet entering into the house.
My wife, awake and angry, yelled at me, "Where the fuck have you been? Do you know what time it is?"
"Shut up, you cunt. I have a headache and can't take your shit this early," I scream at her.
She marches up to me and shoves me, "You can't even get the fucking groceries I asked you to get! Did you even think about it?"
Fuck. I knew there was something, but that bet was too good to pass up. "No, I forgot okay? It was a hard day and I needed to blow off some steam."
"Fine. I'll go and get the groceries in a few hours since you can't do the simplest tasks," she says as she puts her hand out. "Just give me the money I gave you."
"I don't have it anymore."
"You blew it gambling again? All of it?!?" She turned around and to this day I never heard the rest of what she muttered. It was definitely deprecating. It was, also, probably true.
It also blew past my threshold of my tolerance. I shoved her. Hard. Against the wall. I clenched my fist and swung a mighty blow at the back of her head. Missing her by scant inches and punching a hole in the wall. Luckily for me, missing a stud and hitting only drywall. "You fucking bitch. All you ever do is nag and belittle me. No wonder I have to drink so much." I stalked off to the bed and crashed.
The next morning—same morning?--I woke up with a splitting headache and a sore hand. I pulled myself out of the bed, placed my feet on the ground and my head in my hands. Fuck I screwed up again.I stood up and stumbled into the shower of the en suite. I never noticed the open drawers with nary a thing in them, nor the closet with half the clothes missing, nor the quiet solitude of the small house I lived in with my wife—up to that point, anyway.
I heard no word from my wife. A few days later, I was served divorce papers. I never saw my wife—ex-wife—again. I tried to contact her over the years. To apologize. I did learn she had moved back up to Michigan. Once I found out where, it was relatively easy to find where she lived, but I never went up there. She made it abundantly clear she was never going to forgive me.
I found out, during the divorce proceedings, that she had had two miscarriages which may or may not have been my fault, but I am willing to take the blame for either way. It was also revealed that she was two months pregnant. I found out when my daughter was born, but was also informed there was no father's name on the birth certificate.
I tried to send my daughter gifts for her birthdays and Christmas. Every time those gifts were promptly returned. I would then return them to the stores and proceed to the nearest bar and drink away my pathetic life. By the end, I had convinced myself it wasn't my fault if my wife (I still delusionally thought I could convince her to take me back and thus the ex- part was temporary) wasn't willing to forgive me.
Now I wish I could say that her leaving me was the wake-up call I needed to get sober and stop gambling. But that's not how it went. It took me 6 years after my wife left me to seek help for my addictions—6 years for my drinking and another 2 for my gambling.
Near my one-year of sobriety, I again tried to contact my ex-wife. I sent her a letter. A very long letter with a cashier's check. She never filed for child support. So I had no legal reason to do what I did, but I had enough co-workers that had to pay child support and I gathered a rough estimate of what the court mandates for compensation. Not knowing my ex's financial situation I put what I felt was fair—it was on the heftier side of what many of my coworkers were paying. Part of the steps of any support groups is to own up to your mistakes and shortcomings and to try to make amends to those we had wronged. My ex wanted nothing to do with me nor give me any absolution. Which, if I am being honest with myself, I don't blame her. So my only recourse was this act. I have no idea what she did with the letter or the money, but on a monthly basis I sent her the same check (more if I got a raise, but never less). I never received either back so presumably she read the letter and used the money, but she never responded.
With no contact from her—and knowing full well that gifts to my daughter would never be accepted—I started a tradition. I opened up a bank account for my daughter and every birthday and Christmas instead of trying to send her gifts I deposited money into her account. My entire Christmas bonuses, income tax returns, all went into her account. I even deposited money any time I stood outside a bar tempted to go inside for one drink. And not the piddly amounts put into swear jars. I knew what one drink would equal and if I was tempted to go inside I wanted it to hurt so it was usually half my check that went into my daughter's account on those occasions. It didn't take me long—a year, maybe—before I stopped doing that on a regular basis.
Eventually, I became a serviceable member of society. I was a construction worker, but soon found myself wanting more security so I opened up my own construction company. It was a smaller company, but we did well. My current wife, Alice, works as an architect. We met because a client of hers was building a subdivision and her other contractors were busy. So she found my information and gave me a call. We had a good working relationship, but I wasn't going to be asking her out any time soon.
One day, I got a call from her about an office event. She needed a cover because a coworker of hers was hopelessly infatuated with her and she was not interested in dating in the office. I thought a night where I could talk with other members of her firm would be a good business decision so I accepted. I hadn't really known her all that well. I knew she was nice, but we always kept it professional between us. She was about 5'8" with long dark brown hair and ice blue eyes. If I had to guess, she was about 125 lbs. She didn't have large breasts, probably 32B, but she knew how to accentuate her assets. I found out she was 28 years old making her five years younger than me.
I was unexpected by how delightful Alice was. While I was able to talk with other of the firm's architects and to get my little company on their radar, I spent the vast majority of my time with Alice. When the event was done, I drove her to her place and asked if she wanted to go out just the two of us. Which she accepted.
Eventually, we married. She knew most of my sordid past, including my daughter and the payments I sent her mother. She knew of my family—or as much as I knew anyway since my father left my mom at a very young age and I had no recollection of him. My mother, however, disowned me due to my drinking, gambling and domestic abuse to my ex-wife. She died a couple years after my divorce and while I went to the funeral, I could tell I was not welcome. (Like I said, I was a very despicable man.) My wife's family was a very loving household growing up, but shortly after she graduated college she and her parents were hit by a drunk driver. Only she survived. During her surgery after the crash, the damage done to her abdomen needed surgery which led to her being infertile.
The wedding was a small intimate affair consisting mainly of her friends. We moved into a nice two-bedroom house with a full unfinished basement. The second bedroom was converted into an office. The bedroom had no en suite bathroom, but the basement did already have a second bathroom installed—the only thing that was done in the basement before we bought the house. With neither of us having siblings and with no chance of children, we didn't need more than this for a comfortable life. We did renovate the basement into an area to entertain guests. Although, the bathroom was little more than functional. We lived contentedly for the past 6 years. Until I heard my ex-wife had passed away.
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"Look I don't think it'd be appropriate for me to show up at her funeral or the reception. Shouldn't I just send her a letter of condolence?" We had been arguing on how to send my daughter the money I had been stashing in her account for an hour or more at this point. My wife was insistent on going in person. I was, I feel understandably, hesitant. I had no idea whether my daughter even knew of my existence.
"She deserves a right to know who you are, why you weren't in her life, why a stranger has this much money saved for her, and a chance—if she wants it—to get to know you! I mean she just lost her only family member and could use all the help she can get, if she wants it." My wife has been adamant in her stance.
I mean I get it. We both came from very extreme backgrounds. She lost her parents and had no one to turn to for help, much like my daughter now. Of course, my wife would be standing up trying to get me, her father, to give a damn. But you see my point, right? My ex had wanted nothing to do with me, and rightly so. Did this feeling extend to my daughter? I wish I had just acquiesced to my wife's authority, but rather I got up from the table and stretched. This session had last a good hour, hour and a half, and I was tired.
"I'm going out," I stated.
"Right now?!? Where?," Alice demanded.
"Right now, probably going to find a meeting. I need to clear my head." Deep down I knew she was right. There was just a lot of emotions boiling up in me and I really needed some fresh set of eyes. Maybe I can get some clarity from people who are going through the same things as me. I walked up behind her and lowered my face to the top of her head. "I love you, but I think I just need a bit of time to think it all over." I kissed the top of her head and headed to the door.
Sighing, "Be safe," she called over her shoulder.
I found a meeting pretty quickly. I don't go as often as I probably should, but when things get too rough for me to handle or I don't want to burden my wife too much I will search one out. This seems like a perfect reason to me. As I was walking, there's a meeting close by and it was a nice evening, I saw a couple with a late teen or maybe even young 20 year old. They weren't doing anything noteworthy just spending time with each other. Smiles on their faces. There are always moments like this that effect me randomly. Wondering what it would have been like, not as I was but as I am now. Would I have been a good father? I didn't really have anything to compare it to. I stopped and stared at this family. How would my daughter turn out without her mother? Who would she turn to? Would she turn to alcohol? Drugs? Sighing, I started walking again towards the meeting. I was going to share tonight. I was going to implore the wisdom of my peers, but deep down I knew. My wife was right.
When I finally got home, my wife was in bed. She had to get to work earlier than I did so she often went to bed before me. I went to the bathroom, washed my face and changed out of my clothes. Crawling into bed with my wife, she instinctively turned her back to me as I slipped in behind her. Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed her between her shoulder blades.
"How was the meeting?" No judgment. No hostility. God, I love this woman.
"It was really good. I was able to come to terms with my situation. I know, that sounds selfish considering what she is going through."
She let out a little chuckle, "Just a bit. So what have you decided?"
"That you were right."
She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder. "Wouldn't it just be easier if you always knew this? Instead of having to learn it every time we have a disagreement?" She just looked at me and smiled.
I leaned in and took her mouth with my own. She hummed contentedly as I kissed my wife. Pulling back, I responded, "Perhaps. But I've always been a slow learner."
She turned away from me, but scooched in closer to me and patted my arm. "It's a good thing you're so pretty, then," she giggled.
I woke up, as I often do, before my wife. Yes, she goes to sleep before me, but I wake up before her. We've worked out a nice system for the mornings. I get up, go drain my bladder and work on breakfast. Usually it's nothing fancy, unless we have time like the weekends, but there is the matter of coffee. My wife is barely functional without her caffeine fix. And the growing phase where I woke up after her did not please her when I took the liberty to relieve myself while she took a shower.
Greeting my wife, freshly showered, with a steaming mug of her breakfast elixir, I got a good morning kiss and a smile. "Aw, my sweet savior." As she inhaled the aroma of her pick-me-up. No, she was not talking about me in that instance. She took a long sip as she savored the drink. Holding the mug with both hands to feel it's warmth, she finally addressed me with words, "So what's the plan?" Just like her to switch gears into business mode.
"I really haven't had much time to think about it. But it's not far. Well, that far." It was about 4 hours from Indianapolis, IN to Wyoming, MI. The funeral and reception were going to be on Wednesday. "There isn't really anything pressing on my end. Well, nothing that Tony and Alex couldn't take care of. I am not sure I want to go to the viewing or funeral, though." She looked at me with a tilted head. "My ex wanted nothing to do with me after the divorce. I kinda feel like I should respect those wishes in death." That seemed to make sense to her as she slowly nodded and kept sipping her coffee. "What about you? It was your decision after all. Are you going to come with me?"
She extricated herself from me and went to refill her mug. "I was thinking I should go with you. If you were going to go, that is. I already e-mailed the boss that I was going to come in today to make sure everything on my end was in order so I could take the rest of the week off. He understood." When she turned back to me she was beaming an award winning smile at me.
"When were you able to send out an e-mail?"
"Last night. After you left." Her smile never waned when she informed of this.
"Wait, you did this before I had agreed with you?" She simply nodded with her pleased smile on her face. I took a step towards her.
"And why, pray tell, would you do something like that?" I took another step.
"Do you really think you know me so well that you know when I will just kowtow to your demands?" Another step from me and another nod from her.
I finally reached her. I grabbed her and lifted her up on the counter top, without spilling a drop of her precious potion because that would quite literally be the death of me, and planted a firm, passionate kiss upon her lips. I really wanted to express how much I loved my wife, but unfortunately we didn't have that much time. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her coffee mug pressed firmly between us as the steam from the mug wafting over our faces almost as hot as the kiss I was bestowing upon my wife. Interrupted by an annoying trill from some electronic device I just wanted to chuck at the nearest wall, but alas we can't destroy our cell phones carelessly.
"Shit. I still have to get changed." Alice slipped to the floor, I helped ease her off the counter. Now holding the mug with one hand, her other hand came to rest squarely on my bulge that was forming. "Save this for later." She leaned up for a quick peck on the lips and she scampered off to the bedroom to change.
It was later than usual for her to get home tonight. Which oddly, wasn't unusual at all as she is often working later at least a few times a month. I get home roughly at the same time every day, depending on whether I am at a site or at the office, which is invariably before she even leaves the office. So I am the one that will start dinner, which I enjoy doing. Ever since I stopped drinking, I needed something to do to distract me and cooking did it for me. If she is going to be late, she will usually call me and give me a heads up. On occasions, such as this one, she will lose track of time and forget. It wasn't until she got into her car that I finally got a call.
"Sorry. So sorry. I just left the office. My boss had me go over some things for Patrick to be aware of, but he was busy most of the day and we weren't able to meet up until about an hour ago. I'll be home shortly, though," she said this frantically.
"It's fine, babe. I get it. Inopportune excursion. Just drive safe. The meal will be ready when you get home. Love ya."
"Love you, too." Click.
A few minutes later, the door opens up and then slams shut. "I'll be right out. Just gotta change."
"Take your time, sweetie. I'm not going anywhere."
Once changed out of her work attire. She emerges wearing a night outfit with satin loose fitting pants and a matching camisole. Around the house, she doesn't wear a bra. She bolts straight for me and gives me a hug and kiss. Breaking the kiss, she looks at the dinner spread, "This looks delicious. Smells delicious, too. You know, you don't have to wait for me to eat, right?"
"I know. And if you hadn't called, or you were any later, I might have eaten already." I tightened the hug. "But the best parts of my day are spent with you. So a late dinner is a small inconvenience I can tolerate."
"You say the sweetest things," she says as she sits down to eat. "But you are already getting lucky tonight, mister," she finishes just as the morsel enters her mouth. We eat our meal while talking about our respective days. It's a light week for me, so not much to say. I do mention that the viewing is tomorrow night with the funeral and reception on Wednesday. Since we aren't going to either the viewing or funeral, we can sleep in tomorrow and drive up and get a hotel room.
"I do want to go to the bank tomorrow. Pick up something that shows the amount of her account that's been saved. Would be nice to have something other than a bank statement, though, but not sure how to do that."
"Just get a card. Write something nice in it and fold the statement inside. No need to overthink it."
Yeah. I suppose you're right."
"See? Not so hard," she stands up having finished her meal. And walks to my chair.
"What's that?"
"Agreeing with me," she says as she lowers herself in my lap. Her legs straddling me. "Although, we need to work on this hardness," as she starts to rock her hips into my groin. I pull her to me as I start kissing her.
After a moment, she breaks the kiss, my penis inflating to its engorged size, "That's more like it. So where were we before we were interrupted this morning?"
I didn't want to break the spell she had on me, so I just indicated with my head back towards the kitchen. "Ah, that's right. Well, come on. Finish what you started." She climbed off me and held out her hands to me. Instead, I hoisted her up and started carrying her to the bedroom. "Wait! Where are you taking me?"
Confused, I said, "The bedroom."
"That's not where we were, though."
"You mean..." I wasn't able to finish my question.
"The kitchen, yes." So I changed direction and went to the kitchen. My wife kept leaving kisses on my cheeks, neck, earlobes. I was pawing her ass in my hands. I plopped her back on the counter. Right where we were about 12 hours ago.
I kissed my way down to the top of her camisole. I slipped off one of the straps off her shoulders with my left hand. As her breast came into view, I licked and sucked at her nipple as that hand slipped behind her and press her body more firmly into my face. My devious right hand decided to do what its nefarious partner had just done and slipped the remaining strap off her other shoulder. The garment, no longer supported by her shoulders, pooled around her waist. With the other breast now free, I lavished attention to her other needy mammary. With my right hand now pressing my wife forward, my left hand went for a more pleasurable grip. On the saliva coated breast my mouth just vacated.
Alice's hands were in my hair pulling me closer to her breast. Trying to force her entire breast into my mouth, if she could. "Oh God. It feels so good. Devour me, babe." She gripped me by my hair and tugged me upwards so she could kiss me. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and soon our tongues were slithering next to each other. She pressed her body tightly into mine. With little space between us, my hands slipped from her breasts to her waist where they started to slither her pants off. She had to lift one cheek and then the other to get the pants to come free, but we had the time to do this right. When her pants finally got from between her and the counter, gravity did the rest as her pants pooled on the floor beneath us.
My hands started exploring the soft skin that were previously secreted away. But my sex addled mind took a while to realize that, apart from the camisole around my wife's waist, I felt no other fabric. I broke the kiss and looked down at my, mostly, nude wife and then back up to her gleaming face. Shrugging, with an impish grin on her face, "I knew where tonight was headed. No since making things overly complicated...like bra or panties."
I pulled her body closer to the edge as I started kissing my way down her body. When I got to her sex, I pushed her legs further apart. I moved my face between her legs and let out a slow, warm breath over her hairless pussy. I lightly licked the tip of my tongue over her mound. She whimpered adorably before thrusting her pelvis more firmly into my face. I grabbed her thighs, one in each hand, and placed them over my shoulders as I tilted her back a bit to expose her labia. I leaned in and licked the edges. My hands wandered up her body as I inserted my tongue inside her. My wandering hands got to her breasts and started kneading them. She interwove my hair in her hands as she began to guide my head and ride her pending climax on my tongue.
As her climax began, I kept a lightly licking and kissing her pussy. When her breathing became normalized, I started ratcheting back up. "N-n-no. Uhh-uuhng. Too-too-too much. Oh God. More. I need more." My wife has a hair trigger once she orgasms once. It might take me a while to get that first one out of her, but after that she can have quite a few in short order. And I intend for her to have so many tonight she'll be walking funny for a while.
After the third orgasm, my wife pushes me away from her pussy. Her eyes are livid and her posture is almost feral. "Fuck me, Mark. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like a slut. Like the slut I am," she practically growls at me.
I grab her and lift her from the counter. I have every intention of taking her to bed this time, but she wiggles out of my grip. As she lands on her feet, she grips my sweatpants and boxers and in one tug has then at my feet. "Fuck the bed, Mark. I need you now." She engulfs my cock in one fluid motion, bobbing her head. Once, twice, thrice. Before letting it slink out of her throat. She places a hand at my sternum, she pushes out and down. I, involuntarily, lower myself on the cold tile floor of our kitchen.
Once I am lying on my back, Alice crawls over my supine form stroking my feet, my legs, my cock. Once her hands are on my cock, stroking me, she slowly lowers herself onto me. Guides my rigid shaft into her slick hole. Letting a long, guttural moan escape her throat as she bottoms out, "So good. So fucking good." She leans forward her hands moving up my body my shirt rising with her hands exposing more of my own body, rocking her hips back and forth, side-to-side, and kisses me once again. I could get lost in her kisses. Her kisses seem to be a gate to eternity. One where I never want to leave. She rises up and removes my shirt from my arms, puts both hands on my chest as she rides me. Uses my steel tool for her pleasure. I am happy to oblige. I let her do the work. Let her get to her destination. I know I won't have to wait long and then I will have my own pleasure. But watching her writhe and dance atop me is its own pleasure. She leans back. Her hands now around my ankles. Her back arches as she screams out yet another orgasm, hoarsely.
She falls forward. Lays her head on my chest as she pants from the exertion. "So good. You still haven't cum yet. I want you to. I want you to fill me with your cum and then carry me to bed. I don't think I can walk so you'll have to carry me." She kisses my chest, my nipples.
"Can you stand?," I ask as I slowly disengage from her. She shakes her head. I smack her ass. "Stand." I hold my hand out to her as I stand up and she grabs it. I pull her up give her a firm kiss and then turn her around pressing her up against the cool exterior of the refrigerator. I lower myself down bit so I can enter Alice from behind. She sticks her ass out to make it easier while her top half is resting flush against the door. Her head is resting on one of her arms. I slide in. She is well lubricated from her own juices. Once I am sheathed, I grab her hips and thrust. I feel a dainty hand on my balls. My wife wants me to cum. It won't take long for me to dump my seed into my wife. Not after everything so far. But I have done my job. She's had her fill, but she knows I need mine. And I take it. I plow into her pussy. The refrigerator rocks in front of us. She starts moaning. Her hand moves from my jewels to her clit. Jilling herself off while I am thrusting into her. I put my head at her shoulder as I bite her shoulder. And cum. One rope. Two ropes. Three. I jerk a little as I empty my balls into my wife. My deflated dick slips free of my wife's embrace. I cradle her in my arms standing up against the refrigerator.
Once I get my strength back, I scoop my wife up in my arms. To hell with the clothes and dishes, that's a tomorrow problem. Tonight, I am going to sleep with my wife. I carry her to our bed and lay her down. I slide into my side and she immediately drapes herself on me and is asleep before I even wrap the covers over us.
We decided to leave on Wednesday instead of Tuesday. This allowed us to do some work around the house and run some errands. No telling what will happen when we arrive at the reception, but we may as well use the time off as well. Who knows, maybe we go up further and visit the Upper Peninsula.
We arrived in Wyoming around noon and went ahead and checked into the Best Western downtown. We planned to get to the reception later so maybe we could miss some of the crowd so we stopped at a Burger King to get some lunch. Honestly, I also wanted to prolong meeting my daughter for as long as possible. I was nervous and worried about her reaction to me. This was one of those moments I wish I could have a drink, but I knew I had to soldier on. There weren't many people I really had to make amends to. I tried, but many had ignored any attempts I made. My daughter was the only one that I have never had an opportunity to even try.
By the time we checked in, put our bags away and ate lunch, it was close to 1:00 pm. I put the address into the GPS, but with the anxiousness I felt Alice thought it would be better for her to drive. I wasn't going to argue with her on this point.
We found the house easily enough, but the mass of cars at the house made parking challenging. We drove around and found a Walmart nearby so we decided to just park the car there and walk the half mile. I fidgeted the entire time until my wife just grabbed my hand and held it the rest of the way. I stood at the sidewalk in front of ex's house staring at it. My wife just leaned up to me resting her head on my shoulder letting me just work out my fear. I squeezed he to me and moved towards the house.
I tentatively rang the doorbell. As I waited, I could hear the shuffling of feet and the quiet murmurs of life on the other side of the door. Finally, the door opened to a gorgeous blonde. It struck me how much she looked like my ex. I know it shouldn't be a surprise, but it was. Obviously, she had been crying as her crystal blue eyes were red and puffy. She was shorter than both my wife and I at about 5'2" or so. Her wavy blonde hair went past her shoulders to mid-back. The most prominent feature was decidedly south of her face, however. Her breasts were glorious orbs that had to about 34C and with a thin waist they were very noticeable. She wore a rather plain black dress, but even in something so simple, she radiated beauty.
Wiping her eyes, probably for the thousandth time today alone, "Hi. Are you here for my mom?," she asked.
"Well, sort of, I guess." She looked at me quizzically at that response. "You see, um, this is a bit awkward, but I am your father. I know it's probably not the best time to do this, but I really wanted to see you and to give you this. I am really sorry for your loss." I quickly handed her the card that was in my hand and started to turn to run away, but my wife squeezed my arm she had hold of and stopped my movement.
"Wait. What?," my daughter whispered while gripping the card to her chest.
I turned back to face her. I took a deep breath to try and slow my beating heart. I took a step closer to her. "Your mom and I. We were married. She divorced me while pregnant with you. I'm sorry it has taken me so long to meet you, but your mom made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do with me nor have me anywhere near you."
"Why?" I could see her lower lip quivering. I wonder how often did she wonder about me. Well, not me specifically because I doubt my wife ever breathed my name, but rather wondered about her father. Something sparked in me to just grab her, hold her, comfort her. I knew that was inappropriate, though, so I stood there watching this young woman as she tried to come to terms with a stranger claiming to be some long lost family member.
"The short version is I wasn't a good man to Oliv...my ex, er your mom, I mean. I've tried to be better. To do better," my wife came up behind me as I had slipped away from her when I walked towards my daughter. But now, I felt her embrace me granting me her courage. "I did try to make amends, years ago. Not sure what happened to it. If she accepted it. Hell, not even sure if she mentioned it to anyone."
My daughter just stood there dumbfounded shaking her head. "I tried asking her about my dad, but she never would tell me anything. Even...even when she was...," she couldn't finish the thought as she was wracked with tears. Falling to her knees, clutching that card to her with both hands, openly crying. I bolted to her, inappropriate or not, I kneeled down and placed my hand on her back. "Why wouldn't she tell me about you? Even while she was, while she was dying?" She looked up at me imploringly.
That look broke my heart. Shattered it in a million pieces. I removed my hand from her as if I was shocked by a cattle prod. I had no idea how she would react. "Look. I was a very different man, then. I was no good to your mom. I would not have made a good father. I...I was a dunk, a gambler, and a...an abuser. I really gave her no alternative than to leave me. To freeze me out of your life. On this, concerning me, she did nothing wrong."
She started turning the card around, inspecting it from every angle. "So why come? After all this time? Just to give me a card?"
"It's more than just a card, but yes. Well, no, not really. I guess. Since your mom refused to let me have contact with you, I did something else. I opened a bank account in your name. I deposited money in the account over the years. I had no idea how to get it to you, though. If I sent it to your mom, I wasn't sure if she'd pass it on to you or not. When I heard about her...her passing, I thought maybe you could use this now. I wrote most of this in the card. More detailed."
"You're giving me money? And then what? Just leave me? Again? If this is just some payout so you can keep ignoring me, you can keep it and just leave." She flicked the card back at me hitting me in the chest. Wiping her face once again, she got up to her feet and started to make her way inside.
I picked up the card, "I don't know what else to do. What would...what would you want from me? I never wanted this. Not like this, please."
"You never wanted me!," she screamed. "Why didn't you fight harder?"
"What I did to your mom. I put her through hell. I figured if she had found any peace, I owed her that much. I owed her not to put her through any more anguish. I'm sorry you were caught in the middle, but I didn't know what else to do. And...I can't change what I did. But, maybe...maybe I can fix it now. Just tell me how. Tell me what you want me to do."
"I don't know, either," she sat down next to me. "Maybe just hold me for now?"
I placed an arm around her shoulders. "By the way, my name's Mark. And that's Alice," I said, pointing at my wife. That elicited a chuckle from this distraught woman.
"I guess we did skip formalities, huh? I'm Rachel, if you didn't know. Do you mind if we go inside? It's a tad chilly. Plus, I have guests still." We both glanced back towards the house and saw people darting from the doorway and curtains falling back into place.
"Looks like we are attracting some attention sitting out here." Another chuckle escaped Rachel's lips. "Alice and I'll stick around. We can wait out your guests so we can talk privately. Or we can come back later, if you'd prefer. Or..."
Rachel didn't allow me to finish, "Might be easier to stay. Not sure when everyone'll leave, but if you don't want to I'd understand." She got up, picked up the card and walked back in before I could answer her.
Alice finally walked up to where I was sitting on the porch. She had quietly watched everything unfold giving me space to answer for my past. Giving my daughter space to confront me. "I guess we should go in then," my wife dictated. No question. I just nodded and got up and entered the house of my ex-wife.
We tried our best to not really engage with any of the other guests. I didn't know how to explain our presence and I really didn't care about any of the people here, except Rachel. Either they were friends of Rachel's supporting her, friends or coworkers of her mom's, or maybe some distant relatives I never met. My wife found a photo album and a quiet-ish corner to plant ourselves.
We passed the time flipping through the pages of photos of Rachel and her time growing up with her mom. She looked like she was happy and had a wonderful life growing up. I had no idea how much time passed, but eventually I saw Rachel plop down on the love seat near us. I nudged book in my wife's hand to motion her attention to the couch. She looked up and closed the photo album. Leaving it on the little table by the window, we made our way to the couch that was right next to the love seat.
Rachel had her head leaning back looking straight up, if she had had her eyes open. We sat there the three of us in quiet. Neither my wife nor I wanted to intrude in her solitude. I noticed she still had the card clutched in her hand, unopened. Eventually, Rachel pulled her legs up to her chest and perched her head on top of her knees looking at my wife and I.
"This is hard. I have no idea what to do any more." She sighed heavily and placed her forehead on her knees covering her face from view. "It was easier...shit, this sounds bad, but it was easier when she was sick. Hell, it was easier going through setting up the funeral and shit. Does that make me a bad person? I would rather have to go through everything from the time my mom died to even an hour ago on a loop? It sounds fucking awful, doesn't it?"
"No. It's not awful," my wife assured her. "I mean I am sure many people going through this would feel this way."
"Really?," she looked at us expectantly.
"Sure. The activity, having things to do, it would be cathartic maybe? At the very least, it keeps her mind off the loss. But the peace and quiet, that forces you to come to terms of your loss," Alice reasoned.
"That...makes sense, I guess. Thank you, by the way. Thanks for waiting. It means a lot. But, do you mind waiting for a bit longer? I'd like to change into something more comfortable."
I was quick to answer, "Sure. Whatever you need." She smiled as she stood up. "Oh, have you eaten, yet?"
She stopped in her tracks, "A few bites of something or other. I think there is some food in the kitchen, but not sure what. Maybe, no, nevermind. Just...make yourselves at home, okay?"
"What were you going to ask?," Alice queried.
"It's not important. We have food and it'd be wasteful."
"Sweetie, what you are going through, you can take a moment and just focus on what you want. So feel free to ask us for anything, really. We only stayed to help you out, whatever you need from us."
She turned and faced us, tears welling up. "Pizza?"
"We can order pizza, sure. What do you like on it?"
"My mom hated it. But it was my favorite. Feta and Spinach from Domino's. With chicken, tomatoes and mushrooms. Maybe I shouldn't since mom...," the tears she was holding back started to freely fall.
My wife rushed to her and wrapped arms around my daughter and held her as Rachel cried into Alice's shoulder. "Whatever you want," my wife assured her. Alice nodded her head towards me. I got my phone out and was placing the pizza order on the app. I also added an order of cheesy bread.
She had mentioned to make ourselves at home, so my wife and I found our way to the kitchen. Sure enough there was a lot of food. We wrapped up what we could and stored it all in the refrigerator as best we could. We also found plates and glasses that we got out in preparation of the food being delivered. We soon heard the doorbell announcing the arrival.
I went to the door for the pizza and to tip the driver. My wife went further into the house looking for Rachel. I put the pizza in the kitchen next to the dishes we had gotten out. I put ice and water in the glasses for the three of us as well. Busying myself in the kitchen, I didn't notice the two women watching me. My wife cleared her throat behind me.As I turned around, I saw the two women. My wife ruefully smiling at me. My daughter looked a lot more comfortable in flannel pajama bottoms and a cotton t-shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her makeup was washed off her face. I saw my daughter gulp almost like she was ready to burst into tears again. So I motioned to the makeshift serving area, "I got the pizza you asked for, also some bread sticks, marinara sauce and I didn't know what else you would want to drink, so I poured glasses of water. Also, I ordered 3 marinara sauces since I like to double dip my sauce so figured it'd be safer to have individual ones rather than share one."
Rachel rushed up to me and hugged me. I looked at my wife in complete disbelief, while absentmindedly wrapping a hand around her. I subtly shrugged my shoulders so as to not make too big of a movement lest I startle her. But my wife just smiled back at me.
"Thanks," Rachel muttered beneath me. "I know you didn't have to do any of this, but it means a lot to me. That you'd care enough to...to do any of this."
"Of course. I just want you to know you aren't alone. Or are if that's what you want. I don't know what you want, really, so let us know and we will try to accommodate you." I rubbed her back gently. She rubbed her face in my shirt, seemingly to dry her eyes on me. That's when I heard her tummy rumble. She quickly released me and made her way to the pizza and water.
My wife and I followed her back into the living room. Rachel took the love seat once again and Alice and I sat together on the couch. We made no conversation as Rachel was completely invested in the food in front of her. My wife and I were in no rush to coax her to open up. She finished her plate and looked at the empty plate and then at our plates. Her head turned towards the kitchen as if she could see through the walls.
"There's a couple more slices of pizza and maybe a bread stick in the kitchen still," I mentioned gauging that was what she was trying to discern. Seems I was right because she beamed, one of the first times I actually saw her smile today, as she raced to the kitchen for more food.
Plopping back down with the remainder of the food, she noticed her empty water glass, "Shit," she moans as she is about to get back up to refill her glass.
"Let me," I say as I get up and reach my hand out for her glass. "I need a refill as well." I drained the remaining half glass I had while I waited for her cup to be offered to me.
"Well, if you really need a refill," she said with a light giggle in her voice. I headed back to the kitchen for our refills.
"This was really good," my wife is saying as I come back with the waters.
With her mouth full, Rachel mumbles, "Yeah. So good." She wipes her mouth after swallowing. "I can still hear my mom complain when I asked for this. 'Pizzas shouldn't have pineapples or spinach on them. I don't know how you got this taste, but it's definitely not from me.' But she would always let me have one. We'd always just order two small pizzas, though, so she could have what she wanted."
Mentioning her mom, she started looking around the house. I imagine every nook and cranny was a memory of what she had just lost. "I miss her so much. There was so much I wanted to show her. So much I wanted to do with her. So much I still wanted to know."
She took a deep breath and pulled out the card I had gotten her from behind her, presumably, tucked in the elastic band of her pajama bottoms. "I read the letter that you put inside the card. As well as the bank statement." She waited to see if I said anything, but I had no idea what she wanted from me so I stayed quiet letting her guide the conversation.
"I'm not sure I should take this money." I was about to object, but she held up a finger indicating she wasn't done. "It's just a lot of money. I'm not sure I am comfortable accepting such a generous amount. I then read the letter." My heart sank. She was going to rip into me before I realized one thing. She had read it before the pizza, wouldn't she have done it and told me to get out before now?
"I read the letter. I understand why mom didn't mention you to me. I wish she were here so I could talk to her about you. Maybe if I were older and she hadn't...she were still here, I would have been able to get her to open up. I am torn up about this. On the one hand, I really don't have anyone else to turn to. But on the other, do I really want the one person my mom wanted nothing to do with to be that person? What would you do?"
I had been asking myself a similar question ever since I agreed with my wife to come up here. Why would Rachel ever trust me? What could I offer that would help repair a relationship neither of us knew about? I took several deep breaths and just opened up the with the truth. One thing about A.A., it had conditioned me to make myself vulnerable.
"I don't know, Rachel. I have been asking myself what could I do to help you or if you even need my help. What could I offer to ease your...hardship. I just don't know. Because, I have no idea who you are aside from my daughter. So I'll tell you the one thing I have been able to figure out. What ever you need, just ask and I will do my damnedest to fulfill. Anything. If you never want to see me again. If you need a place to stay. If you just want a friend for advice. What I am to you, what I can offer you, it's all up to you."
My wife let out a small gasp of surprise. I hadn't even told my wife any of this. I hadn't really had time. I had just realized the answer sitting here in this house watching the people around me. I noticed the usual platitudes be passed around. I saw Rachel walking around with a glassy look taking in everything and nothing at the same time. I could see the hurt, the loss, the confusion, the worry, the agony all etched on her face throughout the day. And I had silently vowed to myself I would do anything I could to help ease her pain. Even if that meant never seeing her again.
She sat there quietly playing with the hem of her shirt. My wife slipped her hand into mine and gripped it tightly. I looked over at her and she just gave me a brief nod and a grin. In my periphery, I sensed a change. I looked over, and my daughter was staring intently at my wife and I. Had watched our little display of affection.
She cleared her throat, "The note you wrote. You were really like that?" I nodded my head. "I just can't fathom that. You two look so...I don't know...in love? In tune with each other? Maybe safe? I was watching you throughout the day, from time to time, and you just sat with each other never moving, but it was more than that. The little grazes of your fingers, or the looks you gave. The person I see has no resemblance of the one in the letter."
"I've changed. A lot. Took me many years to do so. And then, I met Alice. I have a lot to lose—not saying I didn't have a lot before—if I screw up again. I realized, too late with you and your mom, what I had." I squeezed my wife's hand. "I don't want to screw up anything this time."
She nodded her head while I was talking. Absorbing what I said. "First, I think, I don't want to be your daughter or you my father. I know I don't really have a say in the matter. I mean I can't change the fact that we share DNA, but with no contact for almost 19 years I have grown up without a father. I don't think I need one now." I just nodded. I had no ground to stand on how she wanted to define our relationship, if she wanted one.
"Which makes the second part, damn confusing to me. I don't know what relationship makes sense, then. I know I want one. Or maybe I realize I need one. Going through the funeral plans, getting the casket, arranging the procession. It was so daunting. I mean it helped that my mom had written down her last wishes, but I had no support. Not from anyone. And I know I don't know what to do with everything after...this." She stopped to take a few breaths to ebb the flow of tears threatening to release once again.
"I mean, what am I supposed to do with the house now? All the stuff left here? Am I supposed to just live here in a museum of my mom's life? What about school? My life? Everything just seems so...impossible...right now. So I know I need someone there for me to help me figure this all out." She snickered. "In high school, I suppose you'd be my guidance counselor. But that seems rather impersonal. I gather from my friends that uncles would kind of fit that bill, but I don't know if I want to call you that, either."
"Can I make a suggestion?" Rachel just looked at me with eagerness. "Just call me Mark. No need to define what I am to you. Especially right now. If you want a relationship with me, we will figure out what it is with time."
"So when I introduce you to people? I just say you're Mark?" She started having a pseudo conversation with an imaginary person turning her head to indicate the other person.
"It could be. Like I said, no need to have easily defined relationships. Who cares what anyone else thinks. What makes you comfortable?" Rachel sat quietly in the love seat; gears churning behind her eyes; digesting what I said.
Eventually, she broke the silence. "I have some things to do. A whole list, really, of shit to do. Still. Part of me just wants someone, anyone, to just do it. I shouldn't have to do all of this. I just want to be with my friends. Out enjoying life." She looked over at me. "You know I had to drop out of school. College, that is. Mom would've killed me if I dropped out of high school. Mom got sick and needed help. More help that she could afford and more help than I could give her while being a student. All my friends are out living their lives at college and here I am dealing with this shit. Fuck, that makes me sound like a selfish bitch. I love my mom. Loved. Love? Loved. I really do, but this all just...sucks."
"I...we...know you do love your mom. It's not fair what you have to go through, sure. But, if you let us, maybe we can help you out. I don't think we can just do what needs to be done, but I think we can at least take some of the strain off you. If that'd help," my wife has stayed absolutely silent through this entire exchange letting me lead the way on what we do for my daughter. Actually, my not-daughter, according to Rachel.
She rolled back up to a sitting position. Her elbows on her thighs with her chin resting in both of her hands, "Really? I mean that'd be a big weight off my shoulders. To have someone just to go through this all with." She abruptly got up and ran off to parts unknown to me.
I looked over at my wife with arched eyebrows, "You're offly quiet. Is everything okay?"
She nodded her head, "This is your decision. Whatever it is. I am behind you completely."
"Yeah, but I mean this effects you as well. I'd like you to weigh in."
She bumped my shoulder with hers, "I already have. If I have concerns, I'll let you know. When it's appropriate."
"Um, well...," Rachel was standing with a piece of paper in her hands looking at where she should go. "I have my list of things that need to be done." I noticed she was glancing more at the small space between me and the armrest of the couch. So I scooted over to make room for her. She grinned and, not exactly skipped but kinda, skipped to the couch and sat down next to me. She smoothed out the very crumpled sheet of paper.
"I took out a lot of frustrations on this piece of paper, but I can't throw it away or I'd probably be lost." Many of the items were crossed out like find a funeral home and pick out a casket. But there were many other items to cross out. Things to do with the IRS filing, visit the attorney, transfer titles and deeds, etc. It was a long list and very detailed. No wonder she was completely stressed.
"Yeah. It's going to be difficult, but luckily you have us." I tried to cheer her up. "Besides this, what are your thoughts on after...everything?"
"Well, I think eventually, I want to go back to school. I don't know if I want to live here, though. I don't think I really want to be alone. Staying here, after she passed, has been super depressing. Should I keep the house? Should I sell it?" She looked up at me expectantly.
"I think that is going to be a decision you are ultimately going to have to make. But I think you will be able to. What would your mom want you to do, do you think? If your dream is to go off to college, would she want you to keep a house you aren't using? Paying property taxes and maintenance on top of tuition? Or would she want you to be able to sell it and use that money for your future? We have to visit her lawyer concerning her will, maybe that is listed in it. You know your mother better than I did. I think you'd be able to answer most of what she would want for you pretty easily."
"Oh, okay. That makes sense. So I have an appointment tomorrow with her attorney to go over her will. So you think just wait until then to make any decisions?"
"I think you put off any decision until at least a good night's sleep. Maybe longer. Some of these issues you can't deal with yet anyway. Others can be dealt with in time."
"So...there is one favor...and it's going to sound weird because we just met, but would you stay here with me? I don't want to be alone in the house."
I glanced at my wife. Even without speaking, I could see this was not in my wife's plans. At all. So I turned back to Rachel, "Actually, why don't you come with us to the hotel. We can get you a room of your own and maybe just being out of the house will ease some of your anxieties."
"Does it have to be my own room?"
My wife, for the first time, spoke up, "No, it doesn't. I just think Mark didn't want to assume you'd want to stay with us." She glanced over at me, "Do you think we may be able to change rooms? I mean we haven't even used the one we have."
"It'll be worth at least asking about. They might all be booked, but the worst they could tell us is no."
My wife went with Rachel to pack up an overnight bag and some toiletries. I made myself useful by storing any food in the refrigerator. We quietly drove to the hotel. I noticed Rachel's head dipping. Looks like she will be headed straight to bed when we get in. Poor kid. The stress and adrenaline of the past few days have got to be catching up with her, I thought in that brief glance in my rearview mirror.
We finally pulled into the parking lot. I got out and headed to the front desk while Alice helped Rachel out of the truck. The front clerk was just finishing up with another quest being checked in. The couple walked off with a young man leading the way with their luggage.
"How can I help you?," the clerk, Gary, called to me.
"Hi. I am in 315, but I was hoping we could find a different room. One with 2 beds instead of a sleeper sofa."
"Oh. Is there anything wrong with the one you have?"
At this point, I saw my wife leading the young woman staying with us into the foyer. My wife was rolling the bag behind with an arm around Rachel while Rachel had her head resting on Alice's shoulder. It wouldn't be long before Rachel fell asleep, would she even make it to the room? "No. Nothing's wrong. It's just a situation I wasn't expecting came up and having 2 beds would bet more convenient."
"Ah. Okay. Let me check real quick, Mr....?"
"Andrews."
"Okay. Here's your information. Oh, you just checked in today."
"Yeah. We haven't even been in the room except to drop off our luggage."
"Okay. Easy enough. I have a room conveniently just down the hall from you, is that all right?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. He went about typing on his computer. Reaching underneath the counter he pulled out two keycards and handed them to me, saying "Will there be anything else I can help you with?" He kept his hand out after I had taken the cards.
"I was curious if you could possibly send someone up with me to retrieve my bags from the old room. It would make it easier to just give him the key to return to you rather than having to go up, get the bags, go to the new room and then back down, only to go back up for the night."
"Oh," he pulled his hand back and grabbed a radio. "Robbie, we need another guest escorted to their room when you get a moment." I didn't hear the rest of the conversation since Gary was wearing an earpiece.
"He'll be down in a few minutes. Unfortunately, we are a bit short-staffed at the moment."
"Sure. I understand. I'll just send the women upstairs and I'll wait for Robbie." I handed the young clerk a $20 bill for the help and walked off to Alice and Rachel. I gave Alice the keys and told them I'd be up shortly.
About 5 minutes later, Robbie came up to me. "No luggage?" He was certainly confused to help a large man to his room, especially with no luggage.
I smiled at him, "No. I need to retrieve my bags from my old room to move it to my new one. I just wanted someone to run the old keys back down, is all."
"Ah. No problem. What room are your bags in?"
"315."
"Okay." He hit the button for the third floor and we rode up in silence. Once we reached the room, I unlocked the door and quickly found the bags and picked them up. I handed Robbie the old keycards and a $20 bill.
"Thanks."
"Don't want any help to your new room?," Robbie asked, slipping both the cards and the cash into his pocket.
Chuckling, "Nah. I think I can manage. Have a good evening."
"You, too. Hope you enjoy your stay."
I found the hotel room easily. If you've been in one hotel, you've been in them all for the most part. When I got to the door, I realized I had given Alice both cards. I rapped on the door, lightly. Suspecting Rachel was more than likely asleep, I didn't want rouse her if she was indeed in bed already. I glanced at my watch and saw it wasn't even 7 pm. If she is asleep, I guess we are all having an early night tonight, I stifled a yawn. Maybe that's a good thing. The drive up must have been more tiring than I realized.
The door swung open and there stood my gorgeous wife in what appeared to be the hotel's bathrobe and nary anything else. I gaped at the audacity she had. My daughter, a complete stranger, was staying with us. In the same room as us. And she was going to seduce me? I was about to query her, but she put her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.
So I whispered, forcefully, "Are you crazy? Why are you wearing THAT? All while a young woman, a virtual stranger, is staying in the room with us?"
"Shh. She's completely knocked out cold. Means we can have some quality alone time. Maybe not as quality as I would like, but you take what you can get." She arched her eyebrows suggestively.
"What if she wakes up and sees us having sex in the bed next to her? She just lost her mother for Christsakes!"
She put her hand on my penis and began lightly stroking it through my pants. "It would be hot to have her catch us, but she's got to understand. She's our guest. She invited herself to stay with us. It's not my fault I can't get enough of my husband, right?"
Her stroking was getting my dick to harden, but I wasn't quite to full mast, yet. But it wouldn't take long. "You can't be serious, right? That's my daughter!"
She looked back at the sleeping form, but her hand wrapped, as much as it could with my pants in the way, around my penis. "Fine." And pulled me into the en suite bathroom. As we entered, I closed the door behind us as quietly as I could while anticipating taking my wife.
Her hand left my growing bulge to unbuckle my belt and to undo the button of my pants. She then tugged my shirt from its confines and started to unbutton my shirt. I was glad I had removed my tie after the reception. Not only do I hate those inverted nooses, but now there is one less thing to worry about removing for this little bathroom tryst.
As the top buttons started getting loosened, my wife started kissing up my neck and earlobe. I ran my hands over her robe and found the belt around her waist and pulled it free. With easy access, I caressed my wife's smooth skin opening the robe fully.
My wife, having finished undoing all of my buttons, ran her hands up to my shoulders and captured my mouth with her own. Her hands slid over my deltoids taking my shirt with them. With my sleeves still buttoned, my wrists kept my shirt from completely being removed. But wife's hands didn't stay around my shoulders, but rather traveled down my arms and slipping my hands out of the sleeves. Leaving my shirt to fall freely to the floor.
With my hands free of the offending garment, I grabbed my naked wife, who still had that bathrobe on but was displaying her entire body to my eyes, and spun her around and pinned her to the door. The resulting sound of her body slamming into the door was loud, but all rational thought had left my body at this point. I had a ravishing beauty in front of me and I was going to do my husbandly duty to please her.
I had, reluctantly, ended the kiss in that brief moment. But it had given me the opportunity to remove my undershirt and advance on my wife. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her up. My hands gripping her toned ass. My wife's breasts were near eye-level. I had to slightly bow my head to kiss her breasts. I started at the underside of her left breast and kissed in a spiral shape around and over her breast until I reached her nipple. I started to suckle, nibble and bite at her nipple. While grabbing my hair and pushing her breast further into my mouth, she started moaning and gyrating her hips into my abs. Her juices smearing on my stomach. I pulled my mouth from her breast, but not releasing her nipple causing her to cry out louder.
I made my way to her breast's right partner. But rather than start from the underside, I started from the top at the sternum. I then made my spiral motion with kisses giving this breast the same treatment as the other. Once both breasts were coated with my saliva, I slid my wife's body against me down so her feet were back on the ground.
My wife, however, didn't stop until she was kneeling on the cold tile in front of me. She locked eyes with me as she unzipped my pants and pulled both my pants and boxers to my ankles. It was then that she released my gaze and looked hungrily at my cock. She licked her lips and blew on the tip before placing the tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the head and grazed the hole before swallowing the entire length.
As my cock filled her mouth, she moaned around my length sending tingles down my dick and up my spine. I wasn't going to last long like this and I still had my own partner to please. So I reached down and pulled her off my dick. I quickly stepped out of my pants and pulled my socks off leaving me completely naked and my wife still in that bathrobe.
Alice had moved to the bathtub and turned on the water while I was finishing undressing. I reached out and grabbed the bathrobe thinking I'd yank it off her body. But what happened was I actually yanked my wife backwards. She yipped in surprise as her feet lost their footing. Luckily, I was quick to catch her and prevent her from falling.
The way we were positioned, me on one knee and her back over my thigh, I leaned in and kissed her hard. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly. The adrenaline of falling plus the endorphins firing off during our make-out session leaving her short of breath. I helped her up, but I finally pulled that robe off her as we made our way into the rapidly warming shower.
As we stepped under the spray, I put one foot of hers on the bathtub edge and got on my knees and buried my head into her pussy. I didn't bother to take my time. I knew my wife and I knew she was ready, but I also adored her scent and flavor. So I greedily devoured her. She place a hand on my head and one on the wall to steady herself.
Once I had made sure Alice was wet and ready, I stood up and forced her against the wall under the shower head facing away from me. I bent my knees a little so I could get my dick lined up to her pussy and slowly entered her.
"Oh fuck yeah. Just what I need. Pound my slutty cunt." I gripped her waist and pushed her off while I slipped back. Then pulled her back as I pushed back to the hilt. I felt a hand start rubbing her clit and my balls as I repeatedly pounded her cunt.
"This what you wanted? You wanted my cock in you? Couldn't wait until we had some privacy. Had to get it while my daughter...MY DAUGHTER...slept peacefully in the room?" I slapped her ass. The noise echoing in the tiny room.
"God...yes. I'm such a slut. I can't help it. Your dick fills me up so good. I can't get enough. So please, please fuck me. Cum in me. Fill me with your seed."
"I am. God help me I am. I can't stop now. I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care if Rachel hears us. I am not stopping until I finish inside you."
"Do it. I want it." We stopped talking and just resorted to animalistic grunting. It didn't take long before I stiffened before my first rope left my balls and entered her. Then I started moving back and forth using her body to milk out the rest of my cum. Riding out my orgasm, using my wife's pussy as my personal Fleshlight.
She had her head resting on her arms against the bathtub wall. With shaky breath, "Wow. That was great."
I was still in her albeit slipping out with my dick deflating. I had my head was on her shoulder, my arms around her waist protecting her. "Yeah," I said panting. "While we are in here, want me to wash your back?" She just nodded her head.
I smiled and grabbed a loofah and body wash. After getting suds to form, I applied the loofah to her back and proceeded to soap up her entire back side, paying close attention to her ass, which she shook playfully. When I was done, I gently smacked her ass, "Turn around."
"I think I can manage my front just fine," she stated, while turning around.
"My dirty little slut, don't argue with me," I said with a grin on my face.
She held her arms above her head, her head bowed innocently but with a mischievous grin on her face, "Yes, Master." We don't do a lot of BDSM, but there are times where a little playing comes up during sex. I proceeded to wash her front with a bit more gusto than her backside. But I managed to wash her without too much shenanigans.
When I finished, I handed her the loofah. She understood perfectly. It was my turn to be washed. The lack of antics coming from me signaled that, while a bit of teasing and groping, we were to finish the shower with no other interruptions. We finished and stepped out of the tub helping each other dry off.
I didn't have any clothes, except what I just got out of, in the bathroom with me. I was about to put those back on, but my wife stopped me. "She's asleep. Just go out and get changed out there." I looked at her aghast. "It's not like I have anything to wear either." As she showed me the robe she had on as the only article of clothing she had.
I sighed. "Go first. See if she is still asleep." So my wife left me in the bathroom alone. She came back a few seconds later and nodded her head with her finger to her lips. I felt like a teenager as I tipped toe into the bedroom area. I kneeled down to my weekend bag and found a new pair of boxers and, luckily I packed, a pair of lounge shorts to wear to bed.
I hadn't paid any attention to what was going on around me. Had I been more attentive, I would have noticed my wife slipping under the covers of the bed. Without putting a stitch of clothes on beforehand. I did, however, notice as soon as I got in and spooned her from behind.
"Hun..."
"Shhh. I'm trying to go to sleep. And you don't want to wake up Rachel." That was the end of that conversation.
It took me a while to fall asleep. Having my sexy, alluring my wife naked and in my arms, my dick hardening between her delectable ass, but with my daughter sleeping less than six feet away from us. Eventually, sleep washed over me. Awaking, still with my wife in my arms, I started to instinctively kissing and nibbling on her exposed skin. It took a moment for my brain to catch up with yesterday's events. I quickly disengaged from my naked wife and looked over at the bed behind me. I noticed the bed lay empty, but just as I was about to continue my caresses of my wife two things happened. One, my stomach started rumbling and two, my bladder announced its imminent release.
With a final kiss to the back of my wife's neck, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to relieve myself. Upon exiting the bathroom, I grabbed a t-shirt and headed downstairs for the free breakfast. Hopefully, it had more than just cereals to choose from. Normally, I would wonder where Rachel had wandered off to, but she was an adult and knew the city since she was from here.
The first thing I noticed going to the breakfast lounge area, I saw Rachel scrolling through her phone. When she looked up and saw me, she smiled and waved me over. I held up my hand in greeting, but headed to get breakfast. They didn't have much. The aforementioned cereal assortment, teas, coffee, juices and some assorted fruits. But they did feature an omelet station and a waffle station. I opted for waffles for the wife with strawberries, whipped cream and syrup with some sausage patties and, of course, coffee—actually two cups, just for her. I ended up with a southwestern style omelet with mixed peppers, mushrooms, chorizo topped with salsa and sour cream. I opted for bacon and sausage patties as well as orange juice and coffee.
I was trying to figure out how I was going to carry this load when Rachel came to my aid. "Let me help you with that." She grabbed a cup carrier and placed the four drinks in them and grabbed the waffles from me.
As we made our way back to the room we made small talk. "So, Rachel, how'd you sleep last night?"
"I slept so hard." Did she emphasize the word hard? No, couldn't be. It was just me projecting things from last night. "It was the deepest I've been in a while, actually. You?"
"It was a bit disconcerting, actually. I am used to my bed and then waking up in a strange place. I don't know it always causes a bit of confusion, but otherwise I slept fine."
"Hmm. I'd think you'd have been a hard sleeper last night."
That shocked me. I stopped and stared, "What do you mean?"
She turned around and shrugged her shoulders, "Well, when I have a long drive, I tend to be real exhausted. Makes me fall hard to sleep. I don't know. Maybe it doesn't affect everyone the same way. Coming?" She turned back around and started back to the room.
Shaking my head, I followed on. I really need to make sure I don't read anything in everything she says. Obviously she's an innocent young woman. Or at the very least not flirting with her biological father. I reached into my pocket and produced the keycard I had grabbed on the way down for breakfast. In doing so, I imperceptibly glanced down, at my daughter's shapely ass. The way her ass swayed in those small shorts were hypnotizing.
I felt my mouth dry, almost immediately. And then they stopped. I kept staring. Trying to will them to continue swaying. But they didn't. I walked my eyes up her luscious body. Only to be encountered with her head turned over her shoulders. Her eyes watching me as I ogled her body. My body tensed up and was about to flee. But the one thing that stopped me was that smile. She was smiling a million dollar smile at me. She turned back around facing our room door and shook her ass in my direction.
I took a deep breath and walked to the door. I expected her to move out of the way as she was standing right in the way of the door. But she didn't. I was hoping, at the very least, she would step closer to the door. She didn't move, standing like a statue. I had no choice. I pressed myself to her back. I tried to angle my body away from her so she wouldn't feel my bulge that was forming, but to no avail. Her head was about chin level with me. I dipped my head to see where to place the key in the reader. It brought my nose to the top of her head. I couldn't help myself. I took a deep breath and smelled her.
The reader beeped and the lock clicked indicating I had unlocked the door properly. I grabbed the handle and pushed down to open the door. But Rachel didn't move. Instead, she flexed her ass massaging my cock before she shook her ass one more time. She looked back at me and kissed the air between us.
I shook my head before I entered behind her. I saw my wife was awake. She hadn't left the bed, yet, and the covers were pulled up so it didn't appear she was naked under the covers. But I knew. Rachel took the cups and waffles to the table and turned so she could address both my wife and me.
"Thanks for letting me crash with you. I needed this. I know I went to bed real early, but I was just so exhausted. If you don't mind, though, I want to get a shower. I didn't want to wake you up when I woke up, so I just went downstairs."
"Sure, sweetie," my wife said. "Take your time."
"Thanks." Rachel grabbed some things, I noticed a change of clothes as well, and headed to the bathroom.
"I brought food." I motioned to the table.
"And coffee?"
"Would I forget such a thing?"
She smiled and slipped out of bed. As naked as when she entered it last night. I gave her a disbelieving look. My wife had clearly lost her mind. She just winked and smiled at me. She got to the table and grabbed a coffee and took a deep sip. "Such a wonderful husband. Tending to my every needs." Another sip. "Such a wonderful pick me up." She put the cup down and turned towards me. "Although, I could think of another pick me up." She smiled lecherously at me.
"No. We can't." My wife advanced on me, but stopped to listen. But not to me.
"She's right through the doors." She kept strolling towards me. I started to back away. One of us had to be the responsible one and clearly it wasn't going to be Alice.
"Awake!" She finally reached me. She was trying to working my lounge shorts off me. I tried to fend her off, but with only one free hand—my other still had the omelet in it—it was a futile attempt.
"She could come out at any time." She had me in her mouth by now.
"Then we better hurry, won't we?," she smiled and jumped on the bed next to us. Rachel's bed. "Hurry up and fuck me."
I looked towards the bathroom and then back to my wife. I was stuck. Surely this shouldn't happen. I wanted to stop it, but goddamn my wife was irresistible. I saw her smile as she recognized my crumbling will.
"Relax. We'll hear when the shower stops." I put the plate of food down on the night stand and pulled the tee off and stepped out of my awkwardly dangling shorts that were half off me. As I got on top of my wife, trying to make it as romantic as possible in as quickly a manner as possible, she moaned happily, "When are you going to just learn to agree with me? Now we don't have enough time to prolong this. So hurry and insert this cock in me and fuck me."
I inserted myself in her, but didn't start thrusting. "Why don't you show me how much you yearn for this cock in you?" With that I flipped her over so she was on top of me without slipping out of my wife's pussy.
She raised up. Her hands rubbing my chest as she started using my body for her pleasure. I was going to let her enjoy herself. I knew she would come to her orgasm at her pace. She leaned forward and let her breasts dangle in my face. I took one in my mouth, but her gyrations on my cock made it difficult to keep her nipple in place.
"Can you...can you imagine?" She panted. "What if...what if...she walks in. What if your daughter...oh fuck me...catches her dad fucking his...WI-I-I-I-IFE...in her bed?" She raises up and thrusts her tits out proudly. Her climax is impeding, I can tell.
"I...I'll tell you." She continues as she pants. "She'll see...see how well her dadd-daddy takes care...of his...women! OH FUCK ME!" Had she said women? Or woman? The sex is really getting to me. I must be hearing things. Of course, she said woman. What the fuck is wrong with me? She ell on top of me, her climax consuming her as she vibrates on me. Crushing her tits to my chest, "Fuck me. Fuck me like a slut. Slam that cock in me and cum. Use me for your pleasure."
I flipped her back on her back and I started hammering into her hungry cunt. Her hands went to the wall bracing herself so her head wouldn't get slammed into the drywall. I raised up so I could watch her tits jiggle underneath my onslaught. It wasn't going to take long. My eruption was building. She couldn't talk. The pounding I was giving her she could do barely anything else but moan and groan. Waking up this morning with my hard-on pressed between my wife's cheeks, watching my daughter's ass in the hallway, it wasn't long before I blasted my semen into my wife's pussy bathing her insides.
I collapsed on top of her. She held my head to her breasts. They made wonderful pillows. She stroked my back. "We should clean up. She might be out soon." I sighed and rolled off Alice as I went to get my clothes on. She found another robe hanging outside the bathroom and slipped it on. And nothing else.
No sooner had we got to the table that the shower stopped. My wife just beamed at me. That was a bit too close. We are definitely going to have cooler minds in the future. And it didn't seem that Alice was going to be any help in this matter. And I can't seem to resist my wife's charms. Maybe, Rachel was only going to spend this last night with us and she will go back to her house while we helped this week. Spoiler alert, she didn't.
While my wife and I ate our breakfast, Rachel engaged us with conversation. Asking how we met, what we did for careers, just general getting to know you questions. We reciprocated and asked what types of classes she took, when she was in college, what she might be interested in pursuing. My biggest question I'd like her to answer I never asked. I think she was still weighing her options and one of the major things to do this week was today. We—well Rachel was, but it seemed we were going to be helping her out—were to meet her mom's lawyer at the house. I glanced at my cell for the time and saw we still had a couple hours before he was going to show up.
I cleared my throat and stood to take my trash to the small waste bucket that hotels provide you with. "Think I am going to grab a shower and change."
Rachel looked up. "Didn't you get a shower last night? What could you have possibly done that requires another shower in such short time?," she asked innocently. Or was it an innocent question?
"Yes, dear, what could you possibly need a shower for?," my wife batted her eyes. I know for a fact wasn't innocently.
"I, well, um, a good hot shower really helps get me up."
I swear I saw Rachel glance at my cock when she said, "Hmm, good to know." My wife, sitting behind where Rachel was facing, raised her eyes at me looking pretty proud for some reason.
The blood was draining from my face and flowing decidedly lower. "I, um, well, um better get in the shower. Unless someone else needs in there?"
"Actually," Rachel stated, "let me just get some things out so I can finish getting ready out here while you take up the bathroom." She stood and went into the bathroom before I could say anything.
I just mouthed to my wife, "What the fuck?" She could only shrug and shake her head before Rachel was out of the bathroom holding a bag, presumably her toiletries.
"Okay. All yours, dea...da...er, Mark," she said blushing.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone