by Boswell, Ben
"Hey babe," I answered.
"Hey yourself." She paused. "You okay? You sound out of breath."
I pushed Ashley away and put a finger to my lips.
"Yeah, just got back from a run."
"Oh, I thought you were meeting with Bill today?"
"Something came up," I replied, perhaps too literally. "He had to cancel." I made a mental note to clean up that lie.
"Okay. So, good news on this side. Rich is doing a lot better. He's going home tomorrow morning. So I'm going to stay another day and get him settled in. I have a plane flight Wednesday afternoon, so I should be home for dinner."
"That's great," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
"Okay, gotta run. Kids are coming home soon. Going to start on dinner. Love you. See you soon."
"Love you too," I replied.
I hung up and lowered the phone to my side. Ashley had been right. Our time was together was limited.
"So, can I go back to blowing you?" she asked with a grin.
I took her by the hand and stood her up.
"Joanne is coming home," I said simply.
"Tonight?"
"No. Wednesday."
She nodded thoughtfully.
I hugged her tightly. "This has been amazing."
"Yeah," she replied softly.
After a few minutes she excused herself. I felt the same. It was expected, but painful, like the death of a long-suffering relative.
We had a quiet dinner and retired to bed together, spending the evening exploring each other's bodies. There was no repeat of the Sunday night fireworks, but it was still amazing, her body warm, inviting, responsive; her pussy tight, hot, and very wet. We were in the sweet spot where we had gotten to know how to please each other, but before the novelty had time to wear off.
The next day, Tuesday, was the last day we could be together. She called in sick and we spent the day together in bed, kissing and making love in every position. We had a long, slow session of anal, me spooning her and gently rubbing her clit as I slid my dick in and out of her tight ass.
By the time night fell, we were both too exhausted for more, and we just watched TV together and cuddled.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday I shooed her off to work while went about cleaning the house. I opened all the windows, changed the sheets. I moved her stuff, some clothes, a phone charger, out of the bedroom and back into her room.
I picked up Joanne at the airport. She was exhausted from travel, and after an early meal, she and I went to bed and cuddled as we went to sleep. In the middle of the night I woke up, and for a moment felt a desperate desire to sneak out of bed and visit Ashley. I resisted it, but I spent most of the night awake, thinking of her.
***
Joanne had taken the entire week off, so she was still at home when I went off to a bunch of meetings on Thursday. I got back late, after 6:00pm, to find Joanne sitting alone at the kitchen table with a glass of wine.
I looked around. All the lights were off. No sign of dinner. No Ashley.
"So, where's our houseguest?" I asked lightly.
"On a train back home."
"Oh..."
"How could you?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of anger and disappointment.
"How could I what?"
She sighed.
"What are you talking about?" I said, already knowing my bluff was called.
"Goddamn it, Dan, you were always the world's worst fucking liar. Don't waste your time. She already admitted it."
"She did?" I was devastated. Why would Ashley go to Joanne like that?
As if reading my mind, Joanne respond, "Oh, don't worry, your little girlfriend didn't rat you out. She just broke down when I confronted her. I figured it out myself."
"How?" I blurted out.
She gave me a smirk. "Well, at least you're not denying it anymore." She paused. "I'm not stupid, you know. You couldn't keep your eyes off each other last night... And then today I was cleaning up and found one of your tee shirts in her room. And then her hair in my fucking shower! You fucked that little slut in our bed, didn't you?"
I winced. "Please don't call her that. It's not her fault. I'm the villain here."
"That's for sure," Joanne replied curtly. She chuckled sardonically. "I was sort of worried about something like this. She's at that age where girls often have inappropriate relationships."
"Did you?"
"This is not about me!" She hissed. Then she softened. "Yes, of course. My manager at Subway. But he was like eight years older than me, not forty. I underestimated you, Dan. It just didn't really occur to me you could get her interested."
"It wasn't like that. I didn't plan it."
She snorted. "How many times? How many times did you have sex with her?"
"I... Um... I don't know."
"Are you just ducking the question or was it so many times that you can't keep track?"
I looked down.
"So you just accidentally fucked her so many times that you lost count?"
"Jeez, I dunno, Babe, what do you want me to say?"
"Don't 'Babe' me, you asshole! And you could start with an apology."
I looked up at her. She was furious and sad, still beautiful and the love of my life, and I'd fucked it all up. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I gushed.
Her features hardened. "That's not good enough."
I didn't know what to say. "Do you want a divorce?"
She let out a sharp, barking laugh. "No way mister. You're not getting out of this that easily. Was that your plan? Divorce me and set up housekeeping with your little whore?"
"She's not a whore."
Joanne's eyes flashed dangerously. "Dan, I promised myself I'd keep it together, but I swear to God, if you keep white knighting for her, I'm going to stick you with a kitchen knife."
I held up my hands in surrender.
"I'm being more than reasonable here," she added. "I even called up her Mom and gave her a bullshit story about how Ashley was coming home because she was homesick, so it's not like I'm taking it out on her."
"Thank you," I said softly.
There was another pause.
"Let me ask you a question, Dan. What did you use for protection?"
I groaned. "Oh Jesus. I... I didn't…."
"So you stuck your dick in a fertile, sexually active young girl and didn't think to wrap it? You looking to be a daddy again?"
"I... It never occurred to me. It's been so long since..."
She slammed her fists on the table. "Fuck you! I'm not that old! I only got off the pill a few years ago."
"I know, I know, I mean it’s just been so long since I had to worry about it. You always took care of that."
She laughed mordantly. "Well, the good news is that you're so fucking incompetent at this that I can actually believe this is your first affair."
"It is. I swear. I don't know what came over me."
"Sure you do. You're a stupid old goat, and you couldn't resist knocking off a piece of barely legal tail. You're such a fucking cliché. Well, luckily she told me she was on the pill, so at least you haven't ruined her life."
She gave me a withering look, more contempt than anger or sadness, and all the more painful for it.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.
"You can start by answering my questions honestly."
"Of course."
"So, did you enjoy it?"
"Joanne, please, we don't have to do this."
She glared at me.
"Did you?"
"Yes," I replied mechanically.
"Was she a good pupil? Did you teach her how to make love? Did she tell you she was a virgin?" she asked, her voice dripping with contempt, her eyes batting mockingly.
"It wasn't like that," I muttered lamely.
"Oh?" She replied skeptically.
"I've never done that. Oooh, you're so big. I've never felt like this before. Am I getting close?"
I shook m
y head. But she was getting close.
"You must have felt like a big man, huh? What else did she do for you? Did she suck you off? Did she swallow? Did she take it up the ass? Do you really think you're the first 'daddy' she's spread for?"
"Enough!" I snapped. "Don't take it out on her. I fucked up. Fucked up big time. She's a beautiful girl and being with her made me feel thirty years younger. It was a moment of weakness."
"Bullshit!" She hissed. "A moment of weakness, I could maybe forgive. But this was more. You went back to the well over and over, so many times that you lost count. You had time to think it through, and the only thing that stopped it was me walking through the door. If I hadn't come home, the two of you would probably be in my bed right now, fucking and laughing at me."
She choked back a sob.
"No! No, Joanne that's just not true. We... I never meant to hurt you. I was self-indulgent and stupid, and maybe that is too much for you to forgive. I understand that. But there was nothing malicious about it."
She stared at me red-eyed and I stared back.
"So what do I do now?" she asked. "Am I supposed to have an affair of my own to even the score?"
I winced. "I hope you don't," I replied weakly.
"Fuck you, Dan! You don't get a fucking vote."
"I know."
"That's the thing though. I don't actually want to fuck anyone else."
"I don't know what to say. I'll try to make it up to you. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too," she said softly as she stood, taking her wine with her and leaving the kitchen. Without looking back, she added, "you're not welcome in the bedroom." And she was gone.
I sat in the darkening kitchen feeling sorry for myself, angry at having made a hash of things, and guilty for having betrayed Joanne.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Ashley.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. You?"
"I dunno," I replied.
"Yeah, me too. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
"Okay," she texted back.
I stared at the phone for a few minutes, then texted her again.
"We can't talk anymore."
"Okay," she wrote back. And then a moment later, "I'll never forget you."
"Same here."
I powered the phone down and closed my eyes.
***
The next two weeks were rough, really rough. Joanne was angry, rightfully so, and it felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells. But she never blew up, never yelled, and in some ways that made it worse, her maturity and control a powerful rebuke. She was the grownup in the relationship.
She made me get tested for STDs, and as I expected, it came back clean. For all of Joanne's angry suggestions that Ashley had been disingenuous, I was still pretty sure that everything had been as it seemed. It was flattering to think that, of course; that Ashley had singled me out to be her tutor in sex, but I also had no reason to doubt it.
Things were quiet, tense. We went through our routines as smoothly as possible, keeping up the house, eating together, talking with the kids on the phone as if nothing had happened.
Then one night, a couple of weeks after Joanne's return, she fetched me from my bed in the guest room and brought me to the bedroom where she matter-of-factly stripped off her bathrobe to reveal that she was naked.
"You too," she said simply as she climbed into bed.
I removed my PJs and climbed into bed with her. There was no kissing. She grabbed my cock and stroked it firmly, and as I stiffened, she pushed my head down under the covers.
I licked her pussy up and down, relishing her quiet moans of pleasure. It had been over a month since we'd made love, one of the longest gaps of our marriage.
After a few minutes, she pulled me back up and pushed me onto my back. She reached over to her nightstand and produced a condom, which she slid over my prick. I knew better than to protest.
With practiced ease she threw a leg over me and mounted me, dropping heavily onto my engorged cock. I hadn't used a condom in almost thirty-five years, and I hated the sensation, or lack thereof. But this wasn't about me, I knew. I let her set the pace, allowing my hands to roam over her body, teasing her nipples, caressing her neck.
She started moving faster. I grabbed her butt to urge her on. She ground against me, her breathing becoming ragged. She let out a sexy groan and I could feel her pussy clenching as she came.
She collapsed on me, breathing heavily.
"Go ahead if you want," she said simply, but it was obvious she wasn't really interested in going on.
"That's okay," I replied.
She rolled off me. "You can go now."
"What? What was that about?"
"Just because I don't want you sleeping in my bed doesn't mean I want to be celibate."
I sighed. "Okay. If that's what you want."
"That's what I want."
I got out of bed and gathered up my PJs. "We'll, good night, I guess."
"You too," she replied. "And thanks."
I stalked off to the guest room and dropped heavily onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Chapter Nine
But time heals all wounds even if it doesn't erase the scars. After another month of periodic sex, I was invited back in the bedroom. And after a second round of tests, I was allowed to remove the condom.
Then one day, after almost six months, she asked me, "Are you still in touch with her?"
"No," I replied honestly. "No contact since the day she left."
Joanne regarded me carefully, looking for signs of deceit. She must have been satisfied because after a while she simply said, "thank you."
Things gradually returned to normal, and most importantly so did our old affection. I could still see the hurt in her eyes though, and that was the most painful thing of all.
I often thought of Ashley. I'd kept those pictures she sent me, and I sometimes went back to them when I was feeling down. But I never did contact her, nor she me. I remained friends with Trent, who happily never found out I'd had sex with his daughter, and through him I'd get occasional updates.
She'd gone to Northwestern, studied abroad in Germany, was thinking of business school. I asked general polite questions, but kept my interest in her under wraps. Truth is, I worried about her. And I worried that our affair might have hurt her in some way. That guilt wasn't as pressing as that which I felt toward Joanne, but it was a lingering feeling that sometimes crept up on me.
***
Then one day, six years after the affair, and as I was staring my 60th in the face, we got a beautiful engraved envelop inviting us to Ashley's wedding.
I found it already open when I got home -- it was addressed, of course, to both Joanne and me -- sitting on the kitchen table. Joanne watched me carefully as I read it.
"We should send our regrets," I said quickly.
She smiled kindly. "Don't be silly. She's your best friend's daughter. We have to go."
"Are you... are you sure?" It felt like a trap to me.
She laughed. "Dan, if you can talk that girl into walking away from the altar, then it probably wasn't meant to be."
"That's not what I mean. I don't want this to be difficult for you."
She shook her head. "You're so silly sometimes. Finding out you'd cheated was hard. Seeing her married off won't be. Anyway, it'll be fun, and it would be weird if we didn't go. I always love wedding, and since our boys are talking their sweet time settling down, we might as well go to this one."
I wasn't quite sure what this was all about, but I did want to go. I wanted to see Ashley again in person and wish her good luck. I wanted to see with my own eyes that she was happy and had found a good match. I think I'd managed to make things right with Joanne, but I also wanted to clear my conscience once and for all with Ashley.
***
It was a beautiful ceremony. When Ashley appeared in her wedding gown, there was an audible gasp; she was just that beautiful. Her
hubby-to-be, Jason, was a tall, strapping fellow, devastatingly handsome.
When we first saw him, Joanne elbowed me in the ribs, "If you can arrange it, I'd consider swinging with them."
"Shhhh," I hissed, looking around.
Joanne giggled. And I realized that she'd really and truly forgiven me.
From the way Ashley and Jason looked at each other, it was obvious they were desperately in love. They'd written their own vows. I can't remember them, but they were beautiful enough that Joanne sobbed like a baby.
***
It was getting late. We'd eaten. We'd drunk. We'd danced. I was sitting with Joanne who was carrying the burden of conversing with some of the other folks at the table.
I was, I guess, distracted. In the receiving line, Ashley had given me a chaste peck on the cheek and said she was delighted we'd come. We'd wished her good luck. It felt empty.
Joanne elbowed me in the ribs.
"Go ask her to dance already."
"What?"
She rolled her eyes. "You can't keep your eyes off her. There's obviously something you want to say to her. And she's been looking at you all night too."
"But..."
"Don't worry, if I see you two leaving the dance floor, I'll break it up.... Well, either that or try to seduce Jason."
"Joanne, I'm not sure why...."
She put her hand on my forearm. "Dan. You hurt me. You were selfish and stupid. But you're a good man. You made things right with me over time. But I know you never closed things out with her. Now's your chance."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded.
I walked over toward Ashley. She watched me from almost the moment I stood up, her face alternating between anxiety and anticipation as she realized I was coming over to speak.
She stood as I approached the table, and grabbed me by the arm. She pulled me over to her new husband.
"Jason, this is Uncle Danny, he's an old family friend."
He stood and squeezed my hand in an iron grip. "Pleasure to me you... sir," he said, twisting in the knife.
"May I have a dance?" I said to both of them, not quite sure whom to ask.