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TIFFANY AND DEXTER By Matt Moreau

My name is Dexter Lannin. My wife is Tiffany. Tiffany is five-nine, two inches taller than me, a bit overweight, but voluptuous rather than fat; and she is cute. She’s a brunette and wears her tresses a trifle longer than shoulder length.

Me? As I indicated, I’m five-seven, one-fifty, brown-haired; but losing it I’m afraid. Well, whaddya gonna do. I’m a bouncer at a local country-western bar and dance hall. I was a fighter in my youth, golden gloves. Joined the Army when I turned eighteen, fought welterweight while in, got a halfway decent education out of it too (Sizemore Community College). After mustering out, I went looking for a job.

Problem was I had trouble finding a job. I had gotten my A.A. in Liberal Studies, Which as it happened, turned out to be not exactly a degree that was in great demand, but hell I was cultured. I had been working part time as a bouncer in order to get by while in school. Now, I had to try and make it full time. My boxing days were behind me, but I guess I still qualified as a pretty decent ass kicker. The pay was okay too, and the work not overly strenuous.

Roy Jenkins is the owner and chief bartender of Stacks. Stacks serves up good whiskey, decent burgers, and pretty good country music, disco style, seven nights a week. Roy had always appreciated the fact that I was always on time and didn’t look for trouble like some of the more macho bouncers did. He’d just shrugged and said sure when I asked if I could go full time.

It was at Stacks that I met and saved Tiffany Gilchrist from a fate worse than death: Darrel Brothers wanted to fuck her—without her permission. I put him down, kicked him out, and my thank you from Tiffany was a night in the sack with her! We were married six months later, in the bar!

Tif and I have now been married for nine years. For the record we’re both thirty-four years old. She works for a hot shot car dealership owner now. She’s his office manager and private secretary. But, and you knew this was coming, I’ve discovered she’s also been moonlighting as his sex toy. I know because right now, I am standing in the doorway of his office watching him bang her from behind.

Dwight Williams, her boss, is black, six-two, more or less, and an ex-jock who played for State a decade past—offensive guard, I think. Well, he’s still offensive but not the football kind.

Stunned, angry, hurt, fearful of losing my woman, and undecided what to do; I continued to watch the tableau play out. I knew my marriage was probably in the shitter, and the thought devastated me.

Finished, the asshole pulled out of her and started to pull up his pants. He finally saw me.

“Oh Jesus!” he said.

Tiffany turned to see as she buttoned up her skirt. “Oh my, Dex. Oh my. I am so sorry, Dexter,” she said. I just stared at her. I really was in a state of shock. She came to me. She nodded at her boss to get lost; he did.

She sat me down in a chair and knelt in front of me. The concern in her eyes real, and not for her; but for me! “Dexter, my God, you were never meant to see that. I feel so bad for you, my husband. Are you okay?”

She was tending to me as though I were a little kid who had just fallen of my bicycle. I wasn’t okay. And, I was beginning to get back some level of self-control.

“Tiffany, we’re through!” I said. The tears were coming, my tears. I couldn’t stop them. She suddenly looked stunned.

“Oh my, no,” she said. “I love you not him. He’s just a plaything. A sex toy, that’s all. Can you understand that, Dexter? Just a sex toy, nothing more.”

She was combing my hair back with her hand. “Let’s go home, my husband. I need to make you feel all better,” she said.

“No dammit!” I said. “Seein’ you—him—it’s…” She started to cry too. I wanted to reach for her, do my duty to comfort my wife. But, she wasn’t my wife anymore. She was somebody else, some stranger. I had to get out of there.

Somehow I found my car and began driving. I just drove. I had just broken up with my wife! I wasn’t able to think. I needed a drink. The sauce would do me good. Damn straight it would, I thought.

I was sitting in a booth at Momma’s, my other favorite bar, when who should show up but my erstwhile wife. It looked like I couldn’t escape. I feared her. With her I was a complete wimp. I will take on a busload of shitfaced cowboys and do no worse than a tie, but with Tiffany? I have no hope.

“Let’s go home, Dexter. I have some very serious fence mending to do,” she said. I did as she instructed; well, I said I was a wimp when it came to her.

In our room, she stripped first herself then me. I was an automaton. I was hopeless. I knew that soon the chickens were going to be coming home to roost and something bad was likely going to happen. But, not today.

She knelt in front of my naked body and played with my penis. I was hard in short order and she sucked on it like it was a matter of life and death; well, it was, at least as far as my marriage was concerned.

She fucked me cowgirl style and collapsed on top of me drained. Well, I guess her previous bed partner that day had pretty well drained her energy supply. There was no encore. We lay there not speaking each lost in our own thoughts.

At some point we fell asleep. I remember her saying that everything was going to be all right; I was doubtful. How could it be? But, she’d said it; maybe it was true.

We awakened at the same time. We both stunk. We needed showers and we needed them bad. She rolled out of bed; she was still naked. Her matted pubis testimony to the serious fucking she’d had the day before. I knew she was still full of his spunk too; I could smell it in the mix.

She took my hand and led me into the bathroom. “Come on husband; we’re going to shower together. Then, we’ll get dressed, go downstairs, eat, and talk.” She wasn’t asking me; she was directing me. I wasn’t sure I liked what she was saying, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what I was going to be hearing; but we did need to do all of the things that she had listed.

I nodded. “Okay,” I said, finally.

The shower was sensuous. My cock rose to the occasion and she actually giggled. “I’ll take care of that little matter for you right now,” she said. She went to her knees, right there in the shower and engulfed my hardon in her mouth. Every once in a while, I could feel her naked breast slap against my thigh. Off and on, her lips would let my staff slip out so she could lick the full length of it and my balls, and then she would engulf me once again and suck for all she was worth. It was clear to me that she was trying to make up for the pain she’d caused me the day before. I stiffened; she took it all. It was a mercy suck, I knew, but whaddya gonna do.

As my cock shrank, she gave my balls a final squeeze and looked up at me. “Are we okay?” she said. All I could do was spread my hands in an I-don’t-know gesture.

We dressed and went down. She scrambled some eggs and fried some slices of russets. I set the table and made the coffee. We sat down to eat. Strangely, I was as hungry as I’d ever been. But, I was still shaken by the events of the preceding afternoon. I did not want to lose my wife, but I was afraid I already had; that, in spite of her efforts the night before and in the shower this morning. It was the moment of truth.

“Dexter, if you would like, why don’t you ask me about it; or, if you want, tell me what you want to tell me. I promise to be as truthful and candid as I can,” she said.

“How long?” I said.

She smiled. “Long enough. Almost since I started working there. Always at the office, never anywhere else. We thought it was safer that way. His wife—you—we didn’t want either of you to know, either of you to be hurt. For us it was just the sex.” She stopped and looked at me.

“But why? I thought we had a good sex life,” I said.

“Dexter, we do. That is, what there is of it,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Dexter, how often do we have sex together?” she said.

“I guess, two or three times a week. I think you always cum too,” I said.

“And those few times you don’t come with my dick in you, my mouth finishes you off,” I said, defending my prowess.

“You are exactly right in everything you say,” she said. “But, could you do it every day?”

“Well I…”

“Dexter, no you couldn’t. Neither can Dwight. Men are limited in their abilities in that regard. In spite of the silly bravado you men all put out there. Oh, you could do it for a while probably, but soon you’d be drained both of spunk and desire. It’s nature, Dexter,” she said.

“Dwight and I do it about twice a week. That coupled with your three times takes care of me.

“Dexter, Dwight is just the second string. He comes in to lead the team when you need a rest. He’s a good guy, and he is sensitive to my needs and your honor, believe it or not,” she said.

“But he’s made me his cuckold!” I said. “You too. You’ve made me a wimpy laughingstock between you.”

“My God no!!” she said. “We have never laughed at you, and no one else knows but you, me, and Dwight of course. And, that’s the way it’s going to stay. But, yes, you are my cuckold, I suppose, and Dwight’s too. But that’s just a definition, not anything meaningful in itself.”

It was time, I had to ask the next question and I feared the answer. I slumped back in my chair. “Are you going to stop it? I mean now that I know.”

She gave me a decidedly undecided look. “Let me ask you a question as a means of answering you, Dexter. Do I have to?”

“What!”

“Dexter, I have never denied you anything in bed. I have cooked for you, washed for you, loved you, treated you like the heman you are. I have never had a date with Dwight or any other man. I just use him like a live dildo. He uses me like a live blowup doll. So I ask you again, do I have to give my toy up?”

I stared at her. “If I say to give him up, will you?” I said. “I mean really. No more sneaking around.”

She stood and paced the kitchen floor several times before answering. She stopped and looked at me. “I’d try,” she said.

I had been thinking the while she had been pacing back and forth. She’d betrayed me in fact if not in her heart. He’d betrayed his wife. And now I could go any of several ways, and none of them looked real good to me. The question was, how did I really feel about it all? Hurt? Betrayed? Ambivalent? Excited by the dirtiness of it? What?

“I don’t know what to say, Tif. I just don’t know what to say, and you are actually suggesting that…”

“Dexter, while I was cooking a little bit ago, I had a thought. It was—it was—it was kinda out of the blue. What if—what if there was a way to include you. I mean with Dwight and me. I mean if you were to participate in some way—I mean it sounds crazy, but…”

“You just said that you knew I couldn’t handle more than I’m doing now, and you’re probably right. So how do I participate, even if I wanted to do something as crazy as that, and I don’t? I mean you already said that you know I can’t do it that often?” I said.

“I don’t know, but we could figure out something,” she said.

I looked at her like she was nuts! “I have to think,” I said. “I have to think. I’m going out. I’ll be back later, and we’ll talk some more. Okay?” She nodded but said nothing.

I picked up my keys and headed for the door. I was half way out the driveway when I remembered I was still hungry; I hadn’t eaten any of the stuff she’d cooked. Well, I’d just have to make do. I just had to get my head straight. Participate?

******

I sat in the last booth at the local Denny’s. My seventy-third cup of coffee in front of me. I made up my mind. It was Wednesday. It was 10AM. I didn’t have to be at Stacks till noon. I rang a number I knew by heart. I must have called it a hundred times, a thousand times, over the years.

The man answered. He would be there in ten minutes. Good, he was nervous too.

I saw him park and stride toward the entrance as I waited with my seventy-fourth cup of coffee in front of me. He saw me, came over, and slid into the booth opposite me.

“Before you say anything, Dexter, let me,” said Dwight. I nodded. When I’d played ball in high school, I remembered that our coach always elected to defend rather than to receive if we won the toss. I thought that was good strategy then, and I thought so now; I was more than happy to let the man who had cuckolded me go first and reveal himself. That would allow me to react more effectively. I could kill him any time. He was a big guy, but there was no doubt in my mind that I could rip him a new one if it came to blows.

“Yeah, that’s okay by me,” I said.

“Thank you. Before we get to the gritty stuff, let me say how sorry I am for putting you through this. I imagine you’ve already talked to your wife. Please, please, I beg of you; do not divorce her. She is a good woman and she is your woman. Yes, we play. Yes we’ve done it a lot. And, now that it’s over….” He paused and changed the subject. I knew this was a selfish man, but at least he wasn’t rubbing it in.

“Are you going to inform my wife? If you do, I will understand. But, I would beg you, and I am begging you, to please not do it. We have four kids, all under age. And, Letitia, while I don’t think she’d divorce me—well, she would make life for all of us a living hell. That I deserve it, notwithstanding, I would hope you will have mercy on me, on us. There, that’s all I have. But I will hear you out too. And thank you for this chance.”

“Why?” was my first question.

He smiled I didn’t. “Because I’m a horny assed toad and your wife is pretty. But, also because my sex life at home is—well, it’s not all that great. Partly my fault, I guess, but Letitia just doesn’t like it as much as she used to while Tiffany…”

I interrupted him. “If I lay off telling your wife, what assurance would I have that you wouldn’t continue what you’ve been doing with mine?” I said. I was acting cold, but not aggressively so toward the man. I was conflicted. I had thought over all of the things that Tiffany and I had said to each other. But, now I was in a dilemma.

I knew I could get the both of them to swear off each other. But, would that stop the desire they had for each other. Would that guarantee that they wouldn’t just be more careful? I could make her quit her job, get her away from him. But if she worked somewhere else, would it be less or more likely that she would cuckold me again with someone new. The issue of trust was becoming the biggee. And, she’d already informed me that her desires were almost too much for her to control.

And, what about her idea of including me? It had made my penis tingle and harden when she’d suggested it. But, threesomes? I was not at all sure I wanted any part of that regardless of how stimulating the idea might be in the abstract. And, even if I did go along with it, what would my role be?

I had to admit, but only to myself, that I had had fantasies. But, they were just that. I had never seriously considered implementing any of them. And, now here he was in front of me, the big, black, athlete of a man who I would conceivably be playing with, whose cuckold I was. What I said and did now would pretty much be irrevocable.

He’d been looking at me, no doubt thinking of how to answer me. Now he spoke again.

“I can only say that I swear on the heads of my children that I will not do anything sexual ever again with your wife. I won’t anyway, Dexter, no matter what you decide. But, I still hope you’ll not let Letitia know of my behavior. Again, I deserve anything you do to me, but telling her won’t change anything and it will hurt her—and my children,” he said.

I had to admit, he was saying all the right things, and more; his tone of voice was winning me over. “Okay, then,” I said, “I will not let your wife in on this; but I expect you to keep your promise to me. There’s a lot more I have to say to you, Mr. Williams, but right now, I need to get home and speak some more to my wife.”

I pulled into the drive some six hours after having left. Tiffany was in the kitchen scrubbing out a couple of cupboards. I sat down at the table and watched her. I could see her glance my way every minute or so. She was waiting for me to start.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said. She stopped and put down the soapy rag she’d been working with.

“Okay?” she said.

“I don’t want a divorce. But, I can’t live with you sneaking around either.”

I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. “I’ve been considering your idea?” I said.

“My idea?”

“Yes, of including me in the mix,” I let it sink in but it apparently wasn’t sinking in very quickly. She looked at me strangely.

“You mean with me and Dwight? You mean in our sex—acts?” she said.

“Yes. Your little ‘ole cucky here is willing to listen to your ideas on the subject. But, at this point to just listen.”

Now, she began bawling and bawling loudly! She came and threw her arms around me. She didn’t, or more accurately couldn’t, say anything, not at first. Damn women!

“I’ll be your willing cuckold, I guess,” I said.

“And no cuckold will ever have been treated better than I am going to treat mine,” she screamed out in happiness. Damn women.

It was a good hour before she could calm down enough to set the groundwork for how it was going to work, the new scene.

“Yes, my darling. You have made me very happy. I want you to know I was more than ready to not do anything—well, what it was that I was doing, I mean. But, this decision of yours has caught me by surprise,” she said.

“Me too,” I said, sheepishly. “I’m not exactly sure what it will mean. I need you to know that we have to go a little bit easy, at least at first. To tell you the truth, I’m a little bit scared. I ain’t scared of anything, Tif, but I’m scared of this.”

“I promise you that I will take care of you. You’ll have my back, but I will be watching out for your front, no pun intended,” she laughed.

******

I heard her on the phone talking to him. It was clear that he was more than a little skittish, but hell, so was I.

She turned around and saw me. “Hi,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She said goodbye to whoever it was, and she hung up.

“I just now got back,” I said. “Things were slow. I didn’t need to be there, so I decided to come home early.” I motioned toward the phone. “Was that him?”

“Yes. It’s on for Saturday night. Here,” she said. I nodded. I was suddenly nervous. Having a date to look forward to, and that only two days hence, made things more real somehow. She saw I had paled a little.

“It’s all about fun and games, Dex, just fun and games. For me that’s the sex part. For you it’s the teasing, and maybe a little mental and sexual humiliation, the fun kind, the cuckold kind. Are we okay?” she said.

“Yeah, we’re okay. We’re fine. I’m just a little nervous.”

“That’s understandable,” she said.

“So how will it play out?” I said.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “I think it would be best if the two of you do not talk to each other. Maybe some other time, but not this first time. Anyway…

“He’ll come over, and I will have both of us prepared. You’ll get to watch the whole thing; unless, you decide not to at the last minute. He’ll undress me, and play with me a little then he’ll fuck me. When he’s had me once, I will suck him back to life, and then he’ll take me again. Finally, we’ll cuddle a little, and then he’ll go home.

“That’s when you will be required to do your duty,” she said.

I knew what that meant, but I wanted her to tell me anyway. “What will my duties be exactly?” I said.

“Well, you will have to clean me orally, suck out all of his sperm. Then you will get to fuck me too: sloppy seconds for you.” She was giggling almost uncontrollably.

I could feel my face flush. “That ought to be humiliating enough,” I said, trying to induce a small laugh.

“That’s a sure bet, my little cucky,” she said. She continued to giggle. “I can hardly wait see you squirming in your chair trying to get some relief.”

“Huh?”

“Well, dear, I will have to make sure you are safe and—well—secure. Do you understand?” she said.

“Uh—no,” I said. “Secure?”

“Well, if it’s all right, I had planned to strap you into a chair to watch us. Do you think that that is too much? If you do, we can do something else. I’m just afraid you might get too—well jealous, Dex. You are awfully tough; we both know that. My lover is going to be nervous enough even if you are strapped down good and tight,” she said. “He’s going to be thinking the whole time that sooner or later you’re not going to be strapped down. And you’ll be out and around, and maybe he’ll think you’ll be coming after him.

“He’s a big guy, Dex, but not big enough to defend himself against you. He knows it; I know it, and you sure as heck know it.”

I nodded. “If it will make you feel better, it’s okay, I guess. I wouldn’t do anything after I agreed to go through with it, but if it will make him and you feel more—secure. I will accept you strapping me into the chair.”

“Thank you dear. I think it might add a little bit of spice to the action too, dontcha think? I mean you, as a willing cuckold, allowing yourself to be strapped down and denied for a little while? The thought of you being there, strapped down like that, unable to get relief; well, it’s so hot.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. She placed her hand gently on my arm. Jesus this woman was sexual.

“We won’t laugh at you, Dexter. Tease you a little? Yes. But, we won’t laugh at you. I promise you that,” she said.

******

I was up early; there had been no possibility of sleep for me anyway. This was the day: the day I would become a “willing” cuckold. Before, I had been just the victim of a cheating wife. But no more, in a few hours that would all change. I wasn’t nervous; I was terrified.

I heard Tiffany in the downstairs bathroom. I knew she was getting some things ready for the evening. She didn’t want to be fooling with them later. I was busy with the coffee pot.

“Hi buster,” she said, smiling the smile of one who was in control, which she was. “Excited about tonight?”

I swallowed. I swallowed hard. She noticed.

“Dex, you have to be loose about this. Kinda looking forward to it, or I don’t want it to happen. I am doing this partly for me; yes, it will be hot and fun and all kinds of interesting. But if you’re not into it neither am I. Okay?” she said.

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine. I won’t pretend I’m not nervous, but I’m fine. It’s kind of a turn on. I know I’ll be better once we get started.

“Hey, I’m allowed to have some jitters, aren’t I,” I said

“Yes, of course you are. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I’m a little nervous too.

“You know what,” she said. “I’ll bet you a million bucks that Dwight is twice as nervous as either of us.” She laughed and this time it was infectious; I laughed too.

“Yeah, you might be right,” I said.

I watched the clock closely all day. She caught me doing it a number of times and just smirked. I stuck my tongue out at her once.

“Oh ho!” she said. “Is my little cuckold getting to be a smarty pants. You’re going to pay for that one, just you wait,” she said, kidding me—well, I hoped she was kidding me.

At 6:30 she was almost ready. She came downstairs dressed to kill. God my wife was beautiful. “You like?” she said.

“Isn’t my tongue hanging out,” I said.

She laughed at me. “Well, only a mile,” she said.

“Good, I was afraid it was obvious,” I said.

She was wearing a strapless black sheath, with four-inch come fuck me pumps. Her hair billowed out from her face and in the wildest curls I had ever seen on her. Her lips were ruby red and nails matched. And, she smelled wonderful.

“All this for your lover?’ I said.

“Hell no,” she said. “I never dressed like this for him. Just work clothes. This is for you. It’s designed to drive you nuts, not him. “He’ll get his jollies, make no mistake. But this night is really for you and me. Okay?”

She came to me and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Are you ready?” she said. “We don’t have much time. I told him not to come early, but he will be on time; I’m certain of that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” I said. I tried to sound convincing, for me and for her. She took my hand and led me upstairs. She was in charge now.

I watched her butt sway from side to side as we made our way slowly up and to the bedroom. God she was beautiful, I thought. It was going to be a tough few hours for me to get through. Real tough.

The chair was set several feet from the queen-size bed we had shared for so long. It had not been there earlier, and it was new, heavy, and oaken. “Dex, would you like to leave your pants on or…?”

“I’ll leave it up to you, I guess,” I said. She smiled and nodded.

“Drop your pants, honey. Your undies too,” she said.

“My shirt?”

“No, leave it on,” she said. I stood in front of her naked from the waist down. She indicated that I should sit in the chair. She watched me as I got comfortable. My penis was harder than the chair I would be sitting on.

She went to the dresser and pulled out several lengths of rope. One strand was already looped into a simple noose, like a hangman’s noose. She slipped it over my head and around my neck, slipping the noose snug, but not too tight. She pulled me gently back and tied it off behind me to the back of the chair. Next, she took a longer strand and held it up for me to see. “Put your hands behind your around the back of the chair, Dex,” she said. I did as she commanded.

She bound my wrists very tightly behind me. “I hope that’s not too tight, honey, but your bonds have to be secure,” she said. I nodded.

“Their okay,” I said.

She took one more long piece of rope and wrapped it around my chest. Next were my ankles. She looped strands of rope around each and secured them to the legs of the chair. I was spread wide and completely vulnerable to anything she or he would wish to do to me. I was totally at her mercy. She stood back and gazed into my eyes. I saw love there. She kissed me once more on the lips. “I love you,” she said. She had one more thing to do to me.

“This is necessary, I’m afraid, Dex. I don’t want you crying or threatening Dwight or being vocally jealous. Well, you know.” She went behind me and fitted the ball gag into my mouth and pulled on it firmly and tightened behind my head. Now, I was not only immobile, I was also unable to object to anything as well.

Coming around to my front, she said, “Okay, my husband, now we wait for my lover.” She turned and headed downstairs. It was six minutes to seven on the wall clock across from me.

Tiffany had been wrong. Her lover was four minutes early.

I could hear them out in the hall. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could hear them. The tone was—tentative. It was clear to me that they were as nervous as I was. She was probably explaining to him what he was going to find when they came inside. Also, it was likely that he was getting instructions in how to behave. Whatever, the talking soon stopped and she led him by his hand inside. They were a dozen feet from me.

Dwight looked at me and smiled, but it was a friendly I-hope-this-is-okay-with-you-buddy smile. The noose around my neck made it difficult for me, and I didn’t want to strangle myself by too much movement, but I nodded slightly acknowledging his greeting. He turned his attention back to the mistress of the evening. She looped her arms around his neck and they kissed, lightly, then more passionately.

My emotions were running amok. Seeing my wife lend serious affection to her lover hurt, a little; I couldn’t deny it. His hands slipped down to her butt. I could see her smile at him. She turned toward me; her brow was wrinkled; I knew she was concerned about the effect their actions were having on me. I nodded my tiny okay to her. She smiled me her thank you.

Soon they were feeling each over up. They were still standing there a dozen feet from me, but it was clear that they weren’t going to keep doing what they were doing for long.

He stepped back from her, touched her cheek and then turned her around. She was facing me as he slid the zipper on the back of her dress down. She hunched forward a little and the dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet. She was in front of him, her back to him and I watched as he ground his hardness into her buttocks. His hands slid around to her front and cupped her breasts. She leaned back against him with her eyes closed in lust.

He got down on his knees behind her and undid her bra. It too now fell to the floor. His final act was to slowly very slowly pull down her panties and expose here completely bald mons and pussy lips. She still stood there, her eyes still closed. I could only see his face partially as she was still in front of him. It was obvious that he was licking her crack and her anus and loving it. God! how I wished it was me licking sucking her little brown place. I made a promise to myself that I would before the night was out. Well if she untied me at any rate.

His hand had snaked around to the front of her and had insinuated itself into the folds of her labia. She was jerking a little. I think she was having the first of a series of little orgasms as he played with her body.

Her eyes opened. She stared directly into my eyes and mouthed me a kiss. I started to cry, and she smiled at it. I was crying out of jealousy and desire and she knew it.

She turned around and her butt was for me to see as he licked her pussy with a ferocious intensity that I could well understand. He stripped in record time and his cock danced in front of her; she slapped at it playfully.

He stood and whispered something to her. She nodded. They came to me. She leaned forward placing her hands on the arms of the chair where I sat helpless, wordless, and bound. Her face was but inches from mine. She stuck her ass back and spread her legs wide for him. He looked at me thoughtfully and then began poking at her pussy from behind.

“Oh my, Dexter, he is so big. Bigger than you, honey; but not better, just bigger. It hurts a little. Ooooohhh,” she mewed, as he pushed all of the way inside of her. He rubbed her back a little and then began drilling her. Soon he was screwing her fiercely. She choked back spittle from time to time as he mastered her and rudely handled her as though a conquest, one that she had to endure. Suddenly she began to jerk and shake and blubber something; the orgasm shook her to the core. She sagged a little as he emptied himself into her. She opened her eyes which had closed again during her cum. She mouthed me another kiss but did not touch me in any way.

He pulled her back to the bed and they sixty-nined each other. She was on top as his pole once again attained its hardness. He flipped her roughly over and took her in the missionary position. She stiffened and arched her back trying to drive as much of him as she could into herself. She screamed as her third orgasm tore through her.

He collapsed onto her, and after a moment rolled off. They cuddled and kissed and made romantic love. The tears in my eyes were many and seemingly endless during these moments. She was loving him, not just fucking him.

After a while, she rose and looked over at me. She brought him to me and knelt in front of him. They were sidelong to me. She began to stroke his cock. She stroked it for some time before he began jerking and spasming in the throes of his own orgasm. She aimed his cock at me and he spewed his cum all over my face and chest. She smiled. “My willing little cuckold,” she said, smiling benevolently at me.

They returned to the bed, and cuddled a while. It was nine-twenty-two. He’d been with her—us— for almost two and a half hours. She said something to him and he got up, dressed, nodded to me, and left.

My wife came to me, touched my cheek and took the ball gag from my mouth. “It’s time to reward my little cucky,” she said.

I was silent. Well, I was silent until she engulfed my cock in her mouth and sucked me off with a passion I couldn’t believe that she had left in her. She swallowed it all. She untied me, stripped me of my shirt, and took me to bed.

She looked at me seriously before she lay down beside me. “Did you enjoy it honey. I tried to make it as good as I could for you?” she said.

I was trying to form my first words since being released. Did I trust myself? “Yes, it was very good,” I said. “But, I was so jealous…”

“That’s what it’s about, my little cuckold. You need to be jealous—and horny. It’s what it’s all about.”

“I know,” I said.

“It’s time for you to do your duty,” she said. And, I did.

We cuddled, and in the morning she fucked me once cowgirl style, and once with me taking her from behind. It was beautiful.

Finished and sated, I lay gasping. “Was it good for you, dear,” said Tiffany, my wife.

“Yes, and I have to say, about last night, that your lover played his role very well. He cuckolded me well. I was jealous of him, but I did not hate him or want to hurt him,” I said.

She smiled her thanks to me and kissed me gently. “Dexter, you know that as we get further into your cuckolding, it will be a little bit harder on you. You know that right?” she said.

I looked her askance. “I guess,” I said tentatively, not really knowing what she meant. Her words left me a bit uneasy, but things had gone so well that I pushed any negative thoughts to the back of my mind. We’d see.

******

And things did go well, and remained fairly static for the next few months. Dexter would come over a couple of times a month, usually on a Friday night, and we’d repeat our experience of the first time. I had to assume they were also still doing it at the office, but I didn’t have the balls to ask. While he was at the house though, he’d play with her, he’d fuck her two or three times while I was strapped down, and then it would be my turn. Finally, the last time we did it with Dwight—wait, I’ll explain that in a moment; I’m getting ahead of myself—anyway, Tiffany put a couple of wrinkles in our game now.

“Honey, I’m not going to tie you up or gag you tonight,” she said, “I mean not at first, just later.”

“Thank God,” I said. “It is really tiring for my jaw to be wedged open like that for so long a time.”

“Weeell,” that’s a benefit to you, I guess; but that’s not the main reason,” she said.

“Huh?” I said.

“I want you to be with me at the beginning and help get him ready for me,” she said.

“What do you mean,” I said.

“I need you to undress him, and well, be on your knees…” she paused in mid sentence waiting for me to understand. It finally dawned on me.

“You want me to suck him?” I said, turning red as a beet, I could feel it. She just watched me, saying nothing. But it was clear that it is something that she had been thinking about.

I nodded. “I’ll try, but no guarantees,” I said. “This is what you meant about things getting more—something—as time went along, right?”

“Partly, dear, But only if you agree. You are his cuckold after all as well as mine. You need to show it. You know? I mean on your knees?” she said. But--no demands only requests and the trying as you say,” she said.

That next time with Dwight was slow and interesting. He evidently knew what to expect because he showed no surprise to find me untied, naked from the waist down, and on my knees when he arrived.

We did the scene and I got through it: me pulling his pants down and sucking him to steel hardness and then undressing the rest of him before my wife again strapped me into the chair. After which, of course, he fucked her silly.

We did our after cuckolding thing as usual when he left, and that set the tone for the next couple of months. Things seemed to be progressing. I began to worry a little that I was becoming too docile, and that made me even more jealous than I had been; but neither Tiffany nor Dwight did anything in particular to make me feel insecure or to be concerned about. It was then that everything changed.

As they lay there cuddling and me even more jealous and humiliated than usual he laid it on me.

“Dex, Tiffany, and I have something we have to say to you. Okay?” he said. Tiffany looked startled.

“Dwight, now is not the time. I mean it,” she said. I was still bound tightly and gagged. I was unable to react except to look at the two of them and wonder what was about to be said.

“Tif, he needs to know, and you need to let me tell him. It’s time,” he said.

“No!” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

Tif came to me and undid my ball gag, and began top release me. He came to her and stopped her.

“Please,” he said, holding her wrist. “Before you let him loose, let me have my say.” Tiffany looked daggers at him. She yanked her hand away realizing that the cat, whatever it was, was out of the bag. Something bad for me was about to be said.

He sat on the bed across from me. “Dex—Tif—Tif and I are in love.”

I could feel the color drain from my face. “We’ve just been waiting for a good time to tell you. There is no good time. Tif will be seeking a divorce from you this week. Please, we did not mean for this to happen. It just did. I’m sorry,” he said.

I looked over at Tiffany; she was crying. “Tiffany, please untie me. I won’t hurt him—or you. I just have to get out of here. I need to be alone. Please untie me.” My tone was urgent. She came to me tentatively. For his part he was dressing very fast. By the time I was loose and rubbing my wrists, he was gone.

“Dexter, I’m so sorry,” she said. “It just happened.” I nodded. I went to the closet and got my bags. I started throwing stuff into them. I was packed in less than thirty minutes.

“Tell him not to come around me. It isn’t safe for him. You either,” I said. She started at my last words.

“I’ll sign the divorce papers, I said “But, no alimony or hitting my retirement account. You can have everything else. I don’t want anything that will remind me of you.” I turned and left.

“Dexter, I’m sorry, really!” she half screamed at me as I backed out of the driveway. My heart was dead. The bitterness was building to a crescendo. I needed to get out of there. If I did not, I knew I might actually hurt the one I had loved most in the whole world and in my whole life.

*******

I got the papers a week later. She gave me what I asked for: no alimony and no touching my retirement. She also had a check delivered to me for my half of the savings we had shared. She kept the checking account; well, she would be making the house payments. I was satisfied as much as I could be having lost my wife.

I fell into the usual routine of the emotionally destroyed spouse. Work, eat, drink, sleep. Social life? Zero. Interest in having one, also zero. I was numb. I was bitter. And I was alone and lonely.

Working at the bar kind of kept me on center.

An old friend of mine from school days, high school days, came by on a Thursday afternoon. It had been two months since I had signed the divorce papers. My feelings were still fragile, and my ability to concentrate on anything but the disaster to my home life for any length of time was almost nil.

“Bob, Bob Morrison,” I said, in a very surprised voice. “I haven’t seen you since Jesus was young.”

“Dex, it’s good to see you. Whatcha been doing,” he said.

“Uh—well, working, getting divorced, and crying about it a lot,” I said.

“Really?” he said. “Should I change the subject?”

“No, it doesn’t matter. What is, is, I guess,” I said.

“So what are you doing here?” I said.

“I’m in town for a few days. Got an APA convention to attend.”

“APA?”

“American Psychological Association. I’m a member—very low ranking member,” he said.

“Hah! I coulda used your services these past weeks,” I said.

“Well, I’m here for you if you want to unload,” he said, but it’ll cost you several drinks.

“Sounds like I might be able to afford you,” I said.

“Lay it on,” he said. And, for the next two hours, except for interruptions by the occasional customer needing service, I did.

He nodded gravely. “It’s evident that you still love her. That’s why the hurt, mainly anyway. The humiliation you could maybe get by, but the psychological investment is a lot. I’m not going to kid you; it’s going to take you a while.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said.

“What you need, is a replacement woman. Got anyone in mind?” he said.

“No, I haven’t given it any thought. I’m too messed up,” I said. “But, if you have any candidates you’d like to turn me on to?” I was only half kidding.

“I might. You busy Saturday afternoon?” he said.

“Have to work,” I said. “But—wait.” I headed for the back room. He was sleeping on the cot.

“Jimbo, wake up,” I said.

“Huh? What the fuck, Dexter! I’m trying to get a little shuteye. I’m gonna be closin’ tonight,” he said.

“Jimbo, I need a favor,” I said.

“Huh? What?” he said.

“I need you to work a double on Saturday. I gotta have it off,” I said. “I’ll work your shift tonight and tomorrow. How about it?”

“Oh, okay, I guess,” he said. “What, you finally got yourself a woman? Hell, I’d pay the broad if she’s a whore just so you stop mopin’ around.”

“Great,” I said.

Returning to the front, Bob saw the smile I was sporting. “I can make it,” I said.

“Excellent,” he said. “The woman’s name is Dixie. She’s recently divorced herself, and a little on the ragged side emotionally. You two might be made for each other at least in the short run.”

“Really. You her shrink?” I said.

“No, no. The APA frowns on dual relationships and she’s someone I know real well, same as you. I can’t be your official shrink either. If you’d like to see one, I mean officially, I’ll recommend a good one. But, I can’t be your clinician and be your friend too,” he said. “Hope you understand.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Dixie, you say. Pretty name.”

“Yeah, and she is kinda pretty,” he said. “She’s not really just a friend, Dex; she’s my sister.”

“Your sister? But you only had one sister. Mae, I think her name was. Been a long while. I met her once maybe,” I said.

“Her name’s Dixie Mae. Actually, Ellie May Crawford nee Morrison,” he said. I nodded my understanding.

“Okay,” I said. “Hope she doesn’t expect too much; I’ve been pretty much a basket case here these past few months. But, I promise to treat her right. My ex humbled me pretty good, though, so I hope she won’t expect someone who’s a hundred percent together.” I was rambling but I was excited too. I needed a woman to talk too, a real flesh and blood female human woman. I was needy, but I promised myself not to lay my excess baggage on her if I could help it.

******

The party was in full swing when I arrived. Bob met me at the front door, handed me a Lite, and led me out to the patio. There had to be fifty people in the back yard. He gave me the ten cent tour, and at the end of it I found myself looking at the back of a woman with a short, boyish, hairdo and a petite, almost fragile looking body.

Bob tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and we were greeted with what had to be the most tentative smile I had ever been in the presence of.

“Dixie Crawford, this is Dexter Lannin,” he said.

“Pleased, thrilled actually,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said. “Nice to meet you.” Her words seemed a little forced, but I figured she’d been clued that I would be there, so I took the plunge.

“Bob said he had a pretty sister. He didn’t lie,” I said. “She smiled, and again it seemed forced. I began to wonder if this had been such a good idea on my bud’s part. So I asked her.

“Uh—Dixie, is there something wrong? I mean—I mean did Bob mention me to you?” I said. I was feeling and acting like a complete asshole. Well, in my defense it had been a million years since I had done anything like courting a female. And, regardless of what others might believe, it ain’t like riding a bicycle.

“Uh—yes—he did Dexter. I just—I’m, well, kind of a basket case,” she said. “I think he wants us to get together, Dexter, and I don’t know if…”

“It’s okay, Dixie. I completely understand. I’ve been kind of a basket case too. I’ll just mosey around and maybe meet some of the other guests, see if I know anybody from the old days. Please don’t feel pressured. You don’t need it and neither do I,” I said. I started to move off, and she came after me and grabbed my arm.

“No, no,” she said, “I’m sorry, I’m just well a little skittish. There really isn’t any reason you and I can’t talk. Just—it’s just that—well, I can’t make a commitment of any sort right now. I’d like the company, but at the moment it is all I am looking for today. Okay?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I more than completely understand. Actually, I think we are both in about the same boat.”

We talked for the next half hour. I learned about some of her betrayal by her hubby, and she learned of my similar experience with Tiffany. I think it was cathartic for the both of us; then, a torpedo sank my ship. Standing near the gate and being introduced to Bob, was Tiffany Lannin and Dwight Williams. My face paled, I could feel it. Dixie noticed.

“Dexter?” she said.

I nodded in the direction of the new arrivals. “My ex and her lover,” I said. “I have to be going. I hope that your brother didn’t invite them, because if he did we are no longer friends. Harummph! I wonder what Mr. Williams’ wife is doing this afternoon. It was a rhetorical question.”

I headed toward the house. I was hoping to get out of there before she saw me. I was seething. Just as I got to the sliding glass doors that would admit me to the house and then the front door exit I was seeking, she saw me. And, as it happened, I took that unfortunate moment to glance back in her direction. Her mouth fell open and she mouthed my name. I stared at her for the briefest of moments and then was out through the doors and moving to the front yard and street and my car.

Chagrinned, I saw that my car was trapped, I couldn’t get it out without returning to get the guests, who’d blocked me, to move their cars. I started walking, walking fast. I’d come back later, or tomorrow, to retrieve it.

I’d almost gotten to the corner, a long block away, when a car pulled up beside me and Dixie hailed me to get in. I looked back down the block. I didn’t see Tiffany, but I did see Dwight fussing near his car. He looked like he was going to get in it. I assumed he was going to try and chase me down though I couldn’t think of any good reason for him to do so.

I got in Dixie’s car, and asked her to drive—fast! I didn’t know if Dwight had tried to follow us or not, but if he had; we’d lost him in traffic.

“Okay, buster, how come you ran away?” said Dixie.

“I can’t deal with her,” I said. “The wounds are too deep and too recent.” She nodded.

“I understand,” she said. “You got anywhere to go, or can you and I make an afternoon of it?” she said. I looked over at her.

“You’d do that for me?” I said.

“You, yes, and for me,” she said. “I feel the same way about my cheating ex. He hurt me real bad.” Boy, could I empathize with this woman.

“A day of it, it is, I said. “And maybe a night of it too if you’re up for it.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” she said.

*******

“I didn’t know, Dwight. By God I didn’t know. Whaddya think we should do? It seems like I can’t do anything right. All I do is hurt the guy,” said Tiffany.

“It’s not your fault or mine. What are the odds that we’d bump into each other in a private home like this,” he said.

“I—we’ve—gotta find him and straighten this out,” she said. “I just know he thinks we came here to humiliate him!”

“Tiff, I doubt he thinks that. Anyway, his car is still here. He has to get it some time,” he said.

“I don’t know, Dwight, but I’m staying till he comes to pick it up,” she said. He nodded his support.

“Okay. We’ll both stay. But, he won’t be back for a while, Let’s do what we came for and socialize with the Stahoskis. They invited us to come along and we are obligated to stick to our promise,” he said. She nodded her assent.

******

“Dixie, thanks a million for a great day—and evening. You are one heckuva dancer,” I said smiling my broadest as we returned to the house.

“You are entirely welcome. You made me feel half way human again,” she said. “I was beginning to think that that was not going to be possible for me.” She leaned in and put her arms around my neck and pulled me to her. We kissed long and softly.

“I needed that,” she whispered.

“Me too,” I said. “Can I call you?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “And, don’t be long in the doing.” I smiled. She pulled back and I got out of the car and headed for my own. It was no longer blocked. I didn’t notice the figure coming up on my right and somewhat behind me as I keyed my door.

“Dexter, could I have a word with you please,” said the voice. The voice of Tiffany, my soon to be ex-wife.

I’m sure that I jumped six inches straight up. “Jesus, Tiffany, you startled me. What the hell are you doing here. We’re getting divorced—your idea as I recall. And, it’s after midnight,” I said. I wasn’t being nice.

“Uh—I—we’ve—been waiting for you. I can’t tell you how shocked I was, Dex, when I saw you here today.” She nodded toward the house. “We didn’t come to embarrass you, Dex, or anything like that, really. It was pure coincidence.”

Over my initial reaction, I looked her up and down; she looked good. I looked around. “You said ‘we’ where is the asshole,” I said.

“Dex, he’s not a bad man. He just—we—just fell in love,” she said. “It wasn’t anything we planned.”

“What the fuck ever,” I said. “You still haven’t answered me. Where…”

“He’s back with the car,” she said. She nodded back down the street. I could barely see their car in the shadows.

I sneered, but only to myself. “Good, have him stay there. I don’t want to see his fucking ass,” I said. “I’m telling you this as a warning. I hate the bastard, and I do not want to spend the rest of my life in jail for killing him. Got it, Tiffany?

“But, I’m confused. Why are you here? I think I already asked you that,” I said.

“Dexter, in spite of everything, I still love you. It’s just that—well—Dwight and I—we’re—we’re meant for each other in a very special way. I had to choose, Dexter, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I didn’t come here today to embarrass you. I really didn’t. It was a pure coincidence. Honest to God,” she said.

I looked at her with some interest. I believed her. But, I still had one question. “Tiffany, I have just one thing to ask you. Are you friends with Bob Morrison? I mean after today. You gonna be around him, his circle of friends. Be his friend?” I said.

“Huh? I guess we’re friends. He invited me and Dwight to dinner next week, with the Stahoskis,” she said. “Why?”

I just stared at her. “I gotta go. Have fun at your dinner next week,” I said.

“Dex…”

I was already sliding into my car and keying the ignition. I pulled out and into the street. I headed home.

******

I fell back into my now well worn routine: wake up, eat, work, eat, drink, sleep and repeat the list six days a week. Sunday’s, my regular day off, I slept most of the day. At night, I’d watch a little TV and get ready for the next set of six stinkin’ days.

Two full months later, I had a visitor. It was early Sunday morning. I was not a happy camper being awakened by my nuclear powered doorbell before the sun had even had a chance to get serious.

“Well, asshole, said the visitor, why haven’t you called!” said Dixie.

“Huh?” I said, still rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

“You heard me, Dexter Lannin. You promised to call, and You haven’t. This the way you treat all of your dates?” she said.

I left the door open and she followed me inside and closed the door behind her. I was still groggy.

“Your boxers are nice,” she said, “but you might at least wanna put a robe on.”

I looked down, then up, and darted down the hall for my pants and t-shirt. For sure I had to have had my head up my ass to answer the door dressed like that, I thought to myself.

Emerging from the hallway once more, I didn’t see her, but I heard her. She was in the kitchen.

“I thought I’d put some coffee on while you figured out what lie you were going to tell me as to why you’ve utterly neglected me,” she said.

“Yeah, right,” I said.

The coffee maker under way, she came to the table where I had found my usual perch and took a seat across from me.

“Well,” she said. “Why no callzee-wallzee?”

I wished I’d had my cup already. I needed a cup bad. How could I tell any credible version of a lie without having had my coffee first. The woman wasn’t cutting me any slack. I fell back on an old strategy that I normally would never have thought of employing in a situation like this one—I told the truth.

“It’s complicated,” I said.

“Risk it,” she said. I looked down for a moment, then up.

“My ex and your brother have become friends. I will not deal with anyone who has as common friends me my wife and of course her asshole.

“Your Bob’s sister. Since I can’t ask you to shine on your brother for life. I just decided to disappear.

“For the record, Dixie, that afternoon and evening that we were together I had begun to think that maybe—

“Well, anyway, it’s a non happening, so why belabor the issue,” I said.

“Huh? Are you serious? You’re dumping me, almost before we get to know each other because my brother is friends with your ex? Did I get that right?” she said.

“That’s about the size of it,” I said.

“Young man, my brother does not dictate my social life. His friends have nothing to do with us. I don’t get you,” she said.

“It’s simple really,” I said. “Any friends of Tiffany and asshole’s are not friends of mine—period, no negotiation. The humiliation I endured at their hands will never go away, not completely at any rate. I actually hate the two of them.

“I know it’s not rational. Anyway, as you can see you’re better off without a nutcase like me,” I said. She was slowly shaking her head.

“First off, why would you think that he has made friends with the dynamic duo?” she said. “I know you haven’t talked with him. He asked me if I’d seen you, and I told him not since the day of the barbecue. He said to tell you, if I saw you, to drop by. I can tell you he doesn’t know any of this.”

“Maybe not, but can you see me issuing an ultimatum to him to either cut the pair off or he and I are no longer friends?” I said. “I can’t. He has a right to choose his friends, and so do I.

“Any relationship I could possibly have with anyone else would become immediately toxic if my enemies were involved,” I said.

“I see. Still, you owe it to Bob to at least tell him. Leaving him in the dark for what may be the rest of your two lives is irrational and unfair, and I think you know it,” she said.

“I know it is. I just can’t face facing him. And, I will not budge on this issue. I will not share anything including friends in common with her or her asshole,” I said. She nodded.

“You know,” said Dixie, “You’ve told me how much she’s hurt you and that you hate her—and him. But, maybe because we haven’t spent much time together, you haven’t said anything about your marriage before the blow up. Wanna share now?”

We heard the coffeemaker sputtering; the black elixir was ready.

******

“And that’s the short and the short of it,” I said. Having given her the short version; the long would wait for another day.

“You did the cuckold scene then?” she said. “Jesus, that sounds so hot, and so—dirty!” I just smirked.

“Yeah it was all of that,” I said. “But, it ruined my marriage, I guess. I should have expected it. I didn’t.”

“But, you say your married life was good until, well, until that last night. I mean except for her screwing around with him before you found out about it. I mean you thought she and you—I mean the two of you were happy and in love until then,” she said.

“Yes. I know it sounds confusing the way you are trying to say it—badly—but yes,” I said. She slowly shook her head.

“I’m no psychologist like my brother, Dexter, but I think you miss her. I mean I know she’s gone forever, and you have to get on with things, but it’s going to be hard for you. I know because I’m in the same boat,” she said.

“Well, okay, I’ve been a dickhead acting like I have toward you, Dix. Maybe, the two of us can be each other’s anchor, you know at least for a while,” I said. “I shoulda called you. You did nothing wrong, and you aren’t her friend or his. I’ll do better if you let me, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. She came around to me and gave me a hug.

“Why don’t you pour the coffee woman,” I said, feigning the role of dictator.

We sipped our coffees and talked some more about our respective spouses and how they dumped us; then, she made me a proposition.

“Dexter, I want you to talk to my brother. You never know,” she said.

“Okay,” I said, capitulating. “I owe ‘you’ that at the very least.

“You know, Dixie, you are going to have to give me a longer version of your breakup, one of these days,” I said. “Up to now it’s only been me talkin’.”

“I will,” she said, but not this morning.

******

Lunch was at first cautious, then kinda noisy, then satisfactory.

“She never mentioned your name, Dex. I swear,” said Bob.

“That is strange as hell because she saw me at the barbecue. She knew I was embarrassed. She knew I was hurt to see her there with him. And, I figured you were going to remain friends with them; hence, no call from me, Bob.

“I mean since I figured you had to know after the dinner if not before that we were quits forever,” I said.

“I didn’t know, Dex. I didn’t. But…” he grew quiet.

“What,” I said. “Wait, you intend to remain friends with them don’t you?”

He interwove his fingers and tented them in front of him, elbows on the table. “In a word, yes, Dexter. I do. The two of them haven’t done or said anything bad about you, nor have they done anything to offend me. People get divorced, Dex. They just do. It’s part of life. You need to get by it. I know it’s hard, but —well, I will try and help you if I can. And there is something else,” he said.

“Save it, Bob, you are entitled to your friends; and I’m entitled to mine. So, thanks a million for the great dinner and the fine wine. I guess I’ll be going now,” I said. I stood. I glanced at Dixie. She spoke.

“Sit down, stud,” she said. “Let my genius brother finish, at least.”

“Dixie—I…”

“Shut up, lover, I mean it. And sit down. We’re not through here,” she said. I glared at her, but I did as she said. I was beginning to realize just what a big ass wimp I really was.

“As I was about to say, Dexter, that woman, your ex, still loves you. I know it like I know that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow,” he said. “It’s the little things a shrink looks for in a client that tells the tale. I didn’t have a context until now. But, now it all makes perfect sense. The looks between them, the tone of voice in answer to intimate questions or otherwise offhand comments. Oh yeah, she is in the initial stages of buyer’s remorse, Dex. No question about it,” said Bob.

“You’re full of it, Bob. Oh, she feels guilty, I guess. I could grant that—I suppose. But, really love me! No fucking way,” I said.

“Way,” he said, smiling broadly.

We talked for some minutes and agreed to disagree, but on the upside a friendship had been saved—by Dixie. Also on the plus side my friendship with Dixie had been saved as well, not that it had been in any real danger, but had Bob and I not come to an understanding things might not have worked out over the long haul with me and her.

******

The fact that Dixie and I were kind of quasi-lovers and very good friends worked for me over the next weeks. We talked to each other daily. And, since I was the one with the rawest wounds it was mostly about me. I knew at some point I would be listening to her tell me about the break up with her asshole, just as she was now listening to me. I made myself a promise that when that time came that I would definitely be there for her. At any rate, for now, she was my rock, and I needed her.

“You look to be in better spirits today, cowboy,” said Dixie.

“I guess, I am,” I said. “And, it’s all your fault.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to do my penance,” she said. “Would five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys suffice?” I laughed.

“You are good for me,” I said. Becoming serious, I said, “You know, Dixie, you’ve helped me enormously. But—I should be helping you too. I know you’re hurting every bit as much as I am.”

“You help me,” she said. “Just being there for me is a huge help.”

“And, I am there for you, Dix, I really am. Just say the word and I’m there.” She smiled and nodded.

“I know.

“I have some news,” she said.

“Oh?” I said.

“You remember the barbecue, right?” she said.

“How could I forget it?” I said.

“Yes, well, silly question. Anyway, I asked around. You know, people where your ex and asshole work talk when they drink. A couple of them are regulars at Momma’s. I engaged a couple of them in a little gossip and stuff. Dwight’s divorce will be final almost the same time as yours and Tiffany’s: in three more weeks,” she said.

“And, his wife, Letitia, is stunned by his betrayal of her. I know because I went and asked her?” she said.

“You went to her and asked her that?” I said, surprised. “To her house?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “She’s really stuck it to him too. She may own his—their—business before long. She’s suing him for it, I mean all of it. I guess it was her dad’s money that financed it. Asshole won’t have a pot to piss in very soon if the cards fall right.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer asshole,” I said.

The sex that night was cathartic. Dixie did know how to make a man forget, at least for a little while.

******

The divorce was final three and a half weeks later. I showed up for it and so did Tiffany. Neither Dixie nor Dwight the asshole was there. I knew Dixie couldn’t make it because she actually had something to do with her brother. I of course had no knowledge of what kept asshole away. Tiffany gave me a little wave as she entered the courtroom. I raised my hand in acknowledgement, but I didn’t smile, she did; that surprised me.

The proceedings were brief. The judge sounded the gavel, and I was single again, so was she. How long that remained the case was anyone’s guess at that moment. I figured Tiffany and her soon to be husband wouldn’t wait long, but who knew for sure.

As I was exiting the courtroom with my lawyer she came up to me. “Can we talk?” she said. I looked askance at her.

“Doesn’t today’s proceedings put an end to that,” I said. “I mean you dumped me, now you want to talk. I don’t see the point.”

“Dexter, please, I won’t take up much of your time. I know we haven’t talked in these last months, and I think we should have,” she said. “I have some things I’d like top say, and if you do—well—it might be our last chance for a long time.” I nodded, reluctantly, but I nodded my okay.

“There’s a coffee shop across the street; I could use a cup,” I said. “Let’s go over there.”

We found a small table for two near the front entrance. It was trafficky, but nobody was paying attention to us.

We sipped our coffee and I waited to hear what she wanted to talk about.

“Dex, I guess you know his divorce will be final in two more weeks?” She watched to see if I actually did know.

“No, I didn’t. I guess I knew it would be soon, but not exactly when,” I said.

“Dex, I have been sick at heart at how you and I came to an end. I just had to see you and talk about it. If you need to leave, I mean if this is too much, if this is just me trying to make me feel better, and I hope it’s not, just tell me,” she said.

“Tiff, I’m sick about it too. I don’t know why you came to the point where you couldn’t keep our original agreement to let nothing come between us. I knew from the git-go that this fantasy stuff might be a problem, and I think I said so, as I recall. But, you swore it wouldn’t. But it did, didn’t it,” I said. She nodded.

“I never saw it coming, Dex. I fell in love with him; and, I was still in love with you as well. I wanted to ease you into it, I mean the breakup. You know see if you wanted—what you wanted—really. I didn’t get the chance. As you saw; he short shanked me. And, now it’s too late,” she said. She was beginning to tear-up. I reached across the table and took her hand.

“Tif, I hated you for a while there for what I saw as you selling me out for a bigger cock. But, Dwight is smooth. He had me convinced too. I never saw it coming either. He was such a nice guy, that is, until he stabbed me in the back. And, the way I see it you did too. You may be in love with him, but Tif, you do not belong with him. Maybe not with me either, but not him,” I said. She was crying now and people were beginning to notice.

“Dex, I still want to be friends,” she said. I want to see you around. You know, be able to talk to you without hate or anger or jealousy coming between us. I need to have you in my corner still, and I don’t care how ridiculous that sounds,” she said.

“Tiffany, I don’t think I can bend that much. I don’t hate you anymore, I guess, but that’s about all I can promise, at least for now. We meant everything to each other once, and then you betrayed me; that was and is just too overwhelming for me,” I said. “Asshole is your man now; he isn’t going to be wanting you talking or being anything to me; he owns you; I can see it.”

“Dwight? Hell, no he doesn’t own me! I can assure you of that. This is about you and me not him anyway. I will treat him right, and we will marry. I do love him. But, I will not let him cut you off from me or me from you. Can you believe that at least?” she said.

“No,” I said. “I can’t see it.” I was beginning to cry myself. Talk about maudlin moments. She shook her head and muttered something I didn’t catch; I didn’t ask her to repeat it.

We talked a little longer about the future. Dixie came up in the conversation once or twice and Tiffany wished me happiness if I went that way; and then we parted. The future was to still to be played out, and it was about to take some strange turns along the way. What was strangest of all was the sense that we still had very strong feelings for each other that would not be denied even with her being in love with asshole.

******

After my meeting with Tiffany, I was melancholy for days. I began to realize that I had to start getting on with my life and to close the chapter with Tiffany once and for all—easier said than done. Dixie was my rock. She held me and consoled me and fucked me to a state of serious groinal pain.

It was maybe three months later that she, Dixie, had had enough.

“Will, it’s time you listened to me, now,” she said. “And, it is time for you to get a grip and wake up to the future. Okay?” she said. At that moment I had an epiphany, I realized that I had been totally selfish, that this wonderful woman that had been holding my hand for so long needed exactly the same thing that I had been needing. I would give that to her and anything else she required. It was on me now.

“Dix, I’m sorry. I have been a complete nunutchka! But no more, tell me,” I said.

“We were in love Latimer Crawford and I. We were married. Married for nine years. No children. He cheated. He cheated with our housekeeper. He came home one night and told me that he needed to ask me for a divorce. He was actually crying. I think it was because he was hurting me. He was hurting me, and he couldn’t help himself. I actually felt sorry for him. We divorced. He married her: some twenty-something teenie bopper. That was two years ago. I haven’t seen nor heard from him since then. I think that was her wish, I mean that he not see me ever again,” she said. “The pain has never gone away, has never left me.”

“Jesus,” I said. “Well, I definitely know how you feel. I’ve been there. But, in my case it was the lover that delivered the crusher, not my wife. Oh, she was in on it, but she wanted to break it to me gently; he on the other hand wanted it over and done with. He stole her from me, just as your husband’s lover stole him from you,” I said. “We’re sure a pair aren’t we?”

We were sitting together in my living room. I dimmed the lights. “Let’s go to bed, Dix. I need to hold you. I need to protect you as you have protected me. Honest to God I don’t know how I would have survived without you, and I can imagine that you need the same kind of support. I’m here for you Dix, I am,” I said.

******

Bob Morrison was not going to sit idly by and watch a friendship go by the boards or develop a possible rift with his sister either. Not being the village idiot, he decided he had to do something to change the situation if he could, and he was confident that he could. Being a psychologist was a big advantage for him. He couldn’t actually read minds, but he could predict with some degree of accuracy how others were likely to react to certain pressures and stimuli. He was about to bring all of his biggest guns to bear on the situation.

The situation, or, more accurately, the situations? His sister still loved her ex-husband. His best friend still loved his ex-wife. Dex and Dix had, he knew, helped each other to adjust to the loss of their significant others; but they were not meant to be together over the long haul. Reconciliations with their respective ex’s? Maybe. He was about to dare the undareable.

The lady was the first to arrive. She was tentative. “Uh—Mr. Morrison? I don’t know about this. My divorce is barely in the history books,” said Letitia Williams.

“Letitia, you and I have talked about this for the past several days. The man I intend for you to meet knows your situation, he knows you’re a black lady—he’s seen your picture , and it’s all systems go. Just play it by ear. He needs a woman, you need a friend; he’s very much suited to you, at least on paper. Whether there is actually chemistry between you, well, I’ll have to let the two of you decide as to that; but I think you both have reason to at least see if the fit is a good one,” said Bob. She nodded.

“Okay,” she said.

“Do you think the others will come,” said Letitia. “Do the two D’s know what’s in store for them?” He laughed.

“There’ll be fifty people here within the hour. But, as to your meaning, all I can say is I hope so,” he said, knitting his brow. “And no, they don’t have a clue. The only ones in the know are you and I.”

******

I hadn’t heard from Dixie for a couple of days. Not a biggee. There had been other times over the past months that I hadn’t seen her for a day or two. I knew I likely would at the barbecue that Bob had planned for today. The last one hadn’t gone so well for me, but I had hopes that Dixie would make this one a better one for the both of us.

“Hi, Bob,” I said, as I came through the gate. “Looks like you’re all set up. Can I help with anything?”

“Hey Dex, glad you could make it. You can man the grill, if you want,” said Bob. “You’ll be rotated out after a short time.

“Here, I think you know Letitia,” said Bob, he was smiling.

“Sure bet,” I said. “Hello, Letitia, this is a surprise. I didn’t know you knew Bob.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “He contacted me? He has someone for me to meet.” I looked her askance, but didn’t pursue it; I would later, with Bob.

“Dixie gonna be here? I haven’t seen her for a couple of days, and she didn’t answer her phone this morning,” I said.

“Yeah, she’ll be here. She had to go to our mom’s the day before yesterday to help her with stuff. She said she tried to call you. You must’ve been out,” said Bob.

“Yeah. I guess. I have been out some. Well, no biggee. If she’s gonna be here, we’ll figure it out then,” I said.

“Talking about me?” said Dixie, sashaying in through the gate I’d just come through. I went to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek; she returned it.

Bob, you look a little somber,” I said. “Hope nothing’s wrong,” I said.

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong. We’re just waiting for the other guests to arrive,” he said.

As if on cue, The guests did start arriving, and that in large numbers.

I had taken over the grill, but at some point, a fellow named Melvin had rotated me outta there.

Couple after couple had come through the gate. Soon the large backyard and the game room adjacent to the pool were teeming with people. I knew some of them, but most not. Dixie had my arm as we meandered among the guests. As it turned out, she did know most of them.

I was returning with drinks for us when I saw Dixie, across the yard, go gray in the face and virtually freeze. I followed her gaze to a man just coming into the yard. He stood frozen there as well.

“Hello, Dixie,” said the stranger now to her. I knew immediately it had to be her ex. I knew she still loved him. I was no fool. She was my friend, even my bed partner, but this had been the love of her life. I went up to them.

Dixie was flustered. “Uh—Latimer—this is—is-…”

“Dexter,” I said. “Dixie and I are friends. I don’t even have to ask. You’re Mr. Latimer Crawford unless I miss my guess.”

“I am, yes,” he said. I handed each one of the drinks that I had intended for Dixie and me.

“I’ll just mosey around while you two get—uh—reacquainted,” I said.

I watched, unobtrusively from a distance, as Dixie and her ex talked. They were looking serious. She nodded and said something to him. She turned and walked over toward me. “He wants to take me somewhere and talk to me,” she said.

“Dixie, go for it. But, be sure before you commit to anything,” I said. “You and I have talked long and hard about this possibility. Right?”

“You won’t feel bad my abandoning you?” she said.

“Absolutely not. I want to see you happy. But—I do want you to be careful. I mean…” I said.

She kissed me on the lips. “Thank you, Dex, you’re the best,” she said. I headed over to Bob who was being held in thrall by two women.

“Well, Bob, it looks like I’ve lost my anchor, at least for today” I said. “Got any more like her to keep me company?”

“You never know,” he said. I looked at him and knitted my brow? He shrugged. I remembered that I’d wanted a drink, but had given mine to Latimer. I headed back over to the mini-bar. I was talking to the man mixing the drinks when I heard my name called.

I turned around, “Tiffany!” I said. I was startled. I looked around, but I didn’t see him.”

“He’s not here, Dex,” she said. I narrowed my eyes.

“Where is he?” I said.

“He’s not coming, Dex. We broke up. It was a mistake. The marriage never happened. He, as it turns out, has a couple of other—lovers—on the side that he neglected to tell me about. I’m just glad I didn’t make the mistake of marrying him,” she said.

“Why are you here, Tif? I mean really,” I said.

“Well, Bob invited me, but I almost didn’t come. He said there was somebody he wanted me to meet. Somebody who’d been recently divorced and was hurting. Somebody, I hurt,” she said, looking down.

I think my mouth was hanging open. “Me?” I said, pointing to myself. “Bob did that!”

She smiled sheepishly. “Yes sir,” she said, “he did.

“I was a fool, Dex. I think I knew it even then. Anyway, if you feel uncomfortable with any of this…”

“I feel uncomfortable as hell, Tif, and I’m not kidding,” I said. Her smile faded.

“Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry, I’ll just go. I didn’t mean to—“ My turn to smile.

“No, no, Tif. It’s just that my hardon is in the wrong position in my pants. If you’d just move a little to the left there and cover me so I can fix it,” I said.

She broke out into the biggest smile I think she ever had. “The heck with that, buster. Suffer,” she said. She put her arms around me and kissed me deeply. Bob had suddenly come over; I hadn’t seen him.

“You two need to get a room. There’s one down the hallway on the right,” he said. “There’s a lock on the door too.” He meandered away.

Without so much as a word between us, I took her hand and led her into the house.

******

“Howard Miller, this is Letitia Williams. Letitia, Howard,” said Bob.

“Nice day,” said Howard. Letitia broke out in an out of control horse laugh.

“Is that your best line?” she managed, while trying to catch her breath.

Howard looked down. “Uh—I guess,” he said.

“Well then, I guess that we may get along fine,” she said. She did not try to hide her laughter.

******

I shut the door behind me. “Well,” I said, “and what do we do now?” I was smiling big and wide.

“I can think of a couple of things. I mean if you’re into them,” she said.

“Like?” I said.

“Well, we could make out and talk and stuff?” she said.

“Make out? You mean like teenagers?” I said.

“Kinda. Maybe a little more advanced,” she said. “Hmm, actually, maybe way more advanced.”

“I can do that,” I said. Just then the door slammed open.

“Dwight!” screamed Tiffany. His timing could not have been worse, but on the other hand I had to admit seeing him at that moment, his purpose clear, was more exciting for me than sex would have been with Tiffany—well almost.

“So this is the meeting you had today,” said Dwight.

“Dwight—you know we are quits,” she said. “We talked about this.”

“No you talked about it. We aren’t quits. Certainly not on wimpy’s account,” he said.

“What did you say, Dwightee baby,” I said. He glowered at me.

“Yeah, I know all about your history as a bouncer, wimpy,” he said. “But, you know as well as I do that a good big man will always trump a good little man in any kind of serious argument, and I’m a real good big man. So, shut the fuck up while I talk to my woman.”

“Your woman has dumped you, ‘real good big man’,” I said.

“No-no-no,” he said. “She’s just a little confused; you know, feeling sorry for her ex-little man,” he said. “You know—you!” I smiled. Mentally, I was promising the gods of war human sacrifice for this opportunity.

I took the two steps, that I needed to take to interpose myself between Tiffany and an obviously soon to be real upset ex-lover. “I’m sorry, but you’re leaving,” I said.

Now it was Dwight’s turn to smile. “I don’t think so, wimpy,” he said. He closed on me. He sent a haymaker my way via snail mail. I stepped into him and my short quick uppercut stunned him for a full two or three seconds; it was enough. I followed that with a left hook to the lower ribcage and followed that with right hook to the lower jawline. She staggered. Setting himself, his face was a mask of hate.

I was calm and patient. He threw a couple of air-jabs my way and I didn’t even move. He rushed me. I met him with a half dozen alternating right-lefts to the pan of the face. Bleeding from the eyebrows, nose, and lip his face was covered with blood. He swore.

“Not bad for a little man,” he said, finally

. “But not good enough.” He came at me again. I side-stepped him and fired a kick at the side of his knee; it buckled and he went down.

“When you gonna land something, good big man,” I said.

“Fuck you!” he yelled. He tried to get up but his left leg would not support the effort; he stumbled backward and down against the dresser. The fight was over.

“Guess you were wrong, good big man,” I said. All of a sudden twenty faces appeared in the room and in the corridor outside.

“Dex! Are you okay,” said a breathless Bob.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, but humpty isn’t,” I said. “He had a great fall.”

“The cops are on their way,” said Bob.

They hauled my nemesis off in cuffs. He’d spend the night in jail, make bail in the following A.M. And, get seriously drunk in the aftermath. Well, why the hell not; I’d been there same as him. The difference was I hadn’t stolen another man’s wife.

Epilog:

Dixie and Latimer reunited, but Dixie was holding off letting him remarry her until she was sure that they could make a go of it once more. She was, however, optimistic. I thought that she was doing good; she was going slow as I had advised her.

Letitia and Howard were dating. Time would tell on that one, but they sure looked good together.

Dwight’s humiliation was total. He especially found it difficult to come to grips with the fact that one of his women had dumped him. That coupled with his set-to with her wimpy ex-husband, me, was beyond enduring, but his realistic options were nil.

As for me and Tiffany? We still have our fantasies, and sometimes we act them out, but never more than once with an individual. We would never again allow ourselves to become embroiled with another situation like our last. Re-marriage? Not yet, but maybe, probably, soon.

The END

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