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 This is a work fiction, involving the sexual acts between consenting
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   Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
   Full Circle 3: Elise and Julie
   By
   Romany
   (M/F, oral, anal)
   I sat drinking coffee I pondered the latest events.  Was Cheryl right
when she said Julie and I could still find some common ground to try again?
I knew I was good for Julie.  I also knew her issue seemed to be because I
represented suburbia and that I was un-ambitious.  Maybe there was
something I could do to revitalize our relationship by being more
adventurous, or more outward going, or ambitious?  Yet the subject of
divorce had been raised again and it was true that I had already completed
a petition, seeing as she hadn't fronted as yet.  Would we go through with
at we had both said we would?  I was pondering this when my cell phone
rang. It was Elise.
   "Hi," she said softly.
   "Hi.  How are you?" I asked concerned she sounded sad.
   "I'm fine.  A bit drained, but fine.  He's gone," she said a bit more
assertively.
   "Any further trouble?" I inquired.
   "No.  Not really.  He made a couple of weak attempts to say we could
work it out but I know he hasn't really got the guts to work it out.  He is
what he is and I can't change him from that," she said.
   `Where has he gone?" I questioned her further.
   "I don't know.  I don't really care," she said.  "How was your wife?"
   "I don't think he's going to be welcome there," I said with a short
laugh.  "Julie was pretty much shocked at what has happened, and I guess
how much I knew.  I don't know if she will kick him but the revelation of
Ms.  Cornish certainly upset her plans I'm sure."
   "Cornish?  Who's Cornish?" she asked quizzically.
   "The girl we caught him with this morning," I explained.  "He told her
you and he were split up and he lived alone.  He's been seeing her since
early New Years.  She's exactly who you thought she was." "Oh that's right.
I remember he knew her family; I'd forgotten their surname.  What a lying
bastard he is," she said derisively.  "So how is Ms.  Cornish now?"
   "Oh subdued.  Regretful.  You made quite a mess of her face.  Remind me
not to piss you off," I added dryly.
   "I just went mad when I saw them in our bed.  It was the ultimate
insult. The last straw," she added.
   There was an awkward silence.  She spoke first.
   "Can I see you again?" she asked softly.
   "Of course you can Elise.  How about some dinner?  Maybe I can cook you
a nice meal," I said positively.
   "That would be lovely," she said brightly.  "I've never had anyone cook
for me.  Truth is I'm not much of a cook either.  We used to eat out a lot.
I'd like a home cooked meal."
   "It's a deal," I laughed.  "I've got to be a dab at hand at it.  Is
there anything you don't like?"
   "Not really.  I don't like rare steak or any meat with blood coming from
it, but other than that I eat most things," she stated.
   "OK.  Then you will be getting shrimp.  One course, unless you want ice
cream, which will be from a tub; in which case that will be called
dessert," I laughed.
   She chuckled.  "Sounds great."
   I gave her directions and said to take her time and there was no need to
hurry.  She said she would be here by six.  We finished the call and I
immediately began to plan a simple dish of Creole shrimp.  It was a
crock-pot dish I'd found on the Internet.  I used jumbo shrimps and usually
ate it with rice.  I went out to the supermarket and stocked up with the
ingredients.  I stopped at the liquor store and bought nice Italian
Chianti. Something soft but with a nice palate.  I prepared the dish and
set the crock-pot to 6 hours slow cook.  I'd put the shrimp in half an hour
before I served the meal.  I went and showered and dressed in a clean pair
of canvas Dockers and white cotton shirt that I left outside of the pants.
I wore a pair of comfy old scuffs I wore to laze around the house in. 
Neither slippers nor proper street footwear.  She arrived dead on the dot
of six driving a while Saab convertible.  I greeted her at the door while
she parked her car.  She was leaving it out on the road, but I motioned for
her to park in my drive and to pull right up to the garage door.  She
walked along the path towards the door and my heart skipped a beat at how
beautiful she looked.  She was wearing a pair of fawn cargo pants;
deliciously tight around the butt with parallel legs, but not baggies.  She
wore a pair of suede lace up shoes.  She had on a light brown silk shirt
that looked very expensive, under a darker brown top coat with scarf and
beanie.  It was still chilly and the coat was necessary though I suspect
left open for me to see her attributes.  She had left the top two buttons
undone showing the tops of her sizeable breast.  I caught a glimpse of her
white half cup bra as she skipped up the three steps towards me standing in
the doorway looking down as she came up them into the house.  She stepped
into the doorway and without pause for greeting, embraced me and kissed me
passionately.  I held her and returned her kiss.  We lingered like this for
a couple of minutes and I became conscious we were visible to the neighbors
so I strategically broke the kiss and ushered her inside, closing the door
behind us.  I guided her into the room and embraced her again.
   This time we took longer, drinking in each other's taste.  Intertwining
our tongues and I put a hand behind her head, in her lovely honey colored
hair and slowly massaged her neck as we kissed.  She had both arms locked
around my waist and our bodies were pressed close.  I started to get hard.
I felt fearful that I would scare her off so I eased my hips back.  She
would have none of it and slid one hand down onto my butt, and insinuated I
press in to her, rather than actually pull me against her.  I guessed she
could feel my hardening cock and I was right as she pushed herself against
it and mumbled "someone's pleased to see me" without breaking our lips.  I
started to chuckle; I couldn't help myself but it was such a clich�.  She
tried to keep the kiss going but my laughter must have been infectious
because she started giggling and soon we were both clinging together
laughing like a couple of mad people.
   "We're behaving like teenage virgins in the back of mom's car," she
giggled.
   Eventually we calmed down, still holding each other, and she eased back
from me a little and looked down.  To my embarrassment my cock was tenting
to one side of my flies up one side of my lower abdomen.  I looked down and
could see the tell tale lump of it splayed to one side of the jeans flies.
I was now fully erect in my trousers.  She looked me in the eye and while I
was trying to read what she must have been thinking, I felt her close a
hand around it.  I jumped a little and she pulled a face at my timid
reaction.
   "Stay," she commanded.
   In a trice she dropped to her knees and started to undo my flies.  She
fished around somewhat clumsily and eventually with a degree of discomfort
to myself, dragged my cock out.  I looked down at the top of her head.  She
was inspecting it.  Pulling the foreskin back and looking at the helmet. 
She fondled it for a minute or so then looked up.
   "My God, this should be licensed as a lethal weapon," she breathed
huskily.
   What was it with women and my cock?  I'd never ever regarded I was more
than average size.  Was I so easy to read that such flattery would make me
totally malleable to their will?  The warmth of her mouth closing over my
cock interrupted my thoughts and she slowly worked her mouth around the
knob.  All the time she had her hand wrapped around it midway, and was
slowly jacking me while she proceeded to give me an exquisite blowjob.  She
crouched and worked rhythmically and it was delicious.  I placed my hands
gently on her head and lightly worked in unison with her bobbing and
sucking.  Soon I felt the approach of my orgasm and the pressure on her
head became more urgent.  She sensed what was happening and suddenly pulled
off.
   "Not yet.  Not this way, wait..." she whispered urgently.
   She quickly stood and kicked her shoes off.  She then undid the button
on her pants and soon she was stepping out of them in haste.  So much so
that she inadvertently pulled one leg inside out and staggered trying to
pull it clear of her foot.  She stopped and frantically hooked them off
leaving her standing in her coat, shirt, and black little boy type panties;
the ones with the short legs.  They were tight and her mound was
accentuated by the short length of leg on the garment.  She shuffled them
down quickly and tossed them with the pants and then frantically shed the
top coat.  Her impatience saw her ignore the upper garments and before I
could take in her nakedness from the waist, she turned and stepped to the
armchair dragging me with her, still holding my erection.  She eased back
into the beige velour and hooking her legs over the arms she slowly opened
herself up and dragged me towards her.  My heart was in my mouth I was so
excited; her sex was totally bare of pubic hair and it was gaping pink and
inviting with the obscene way she had positioned herself.
   "Come into me Danny, quickly.  I'm ready," she breathed at me.
   I stepped forward and stopped standing between her legs.  I unbuckled my
Dockers and quickly shucked them along with the scuffs.  I removed my
shorts and my cock sprang free, waving around in front of me.  I was also
naked from the waist apart from my sox.  I eased down and I took my cock in
my hand, and watching myself, I guided it to her pink opening.  Her hands
pulled the bottom of her shirt up mid-waist then came onto my shoulders and
steadied me.  As I engaged and slid in, she sighed.  I slowly pushed in and
out, gaining deeper access each time, until I was leaning over her with my
head near her face and I was in up to my balls.  She was groaning her
approval in my ear as I slowly started to fuck her in this chair.  Her
hands came around my shoulders and she held me and looked into my face and
I saw her lick her lips and smile approvingly as she started to get her
rhythm going with me.  Soon she started moaning and gave short grunts as I
went up into her.  It didn't take long before she was humping her groin up
to meet me; her body suspended between the arms of the chair, as we fucked
vigorously into each other.  How I had dreamed about this moment; ever
since I saw here that day last year when we had gone to find our respective
spouses.
   I tried to kiss her but she held my head to one side so she could
concentrate on the fuck.  She was totally given over to the sex act.  I
could tell she was working with me and she was slowly building her pace and
groaning steadily as I sensed her orgasm was building.  She was jerking
herself in short thrust and I quickened my pace to match her.  Suddenly she
let out a long wail and grabbed my head and pulled it against the nape of
her neck.  I had been able to control my own orgasm sufficiently and
welcomed her release as it was getting impossible to wait for her to make
it.  But once she was quivering and wailing softly in orgasm, I gave a few
slower longer pushes and came hard, gasping and groaning as I filled her
with spurt after spurt.  I slowly milked myself into her and she was
whispering encouragement as I slowly emptied myself and brought myself
down. We lay like this for a few minutes and finally I raised myself up
from her.  I was still semi-hard and lodged inside of her.  I reached down
and eased myself out of her.  She sighed and opened her eyes and looked at.
She held my head gently in her hands.  Now she kissed me passionately.
   "That was wonderful," she breathed.
   "It wasn't bad was it?" I grinned at her.
   "I've been wanting that since I went to Philly," she confessed.  "I've
thought about you all the time."
   She fell silent looking at me intently.
   "What?" I asked, not able to read what she might be thinking.
   "I wanted us to catch Steve.  I was scared I was mistaken.  But now, now
I can be free of him, and," She paused and her eyes searched mine for
something.  "And be whoever I want to be with whoever I like," she added
quietly.  "I wanted you.  Right from the time we had coffee after Filenes.
I had thought about you and the time before.  How stoic you were with your
wife.  Treating her with respect because of her dad, in a situation you had
every right to be upset and angry about.  I felt so envious that someone
could care that much at such a time.  Steve could never be so
compassionate."
   I grinned and pecked her on the cheek.
   "I've thought about you lots too," I confessed and kissed her on the
lips.  "So much so that it was nice to cum with you actually here.  Without
relying on just the thought of it," I continued my confession.
   She gasped and laughed and shook my head in mock chastisement.
   "You naughty naught man you," she giggled.  "That's so rude."
   I grinned and she kissed me sweetly again.  "And I'll take it as a huge
compliment," she breathed huskily.
   The post orgasm had subsided and I realized my back ached at the odd
position I had been in, along with the exertion of the sex.  I struggled
back and reached for her hands to pull her up.  She took my hands but as I
pulled her upright I heard her exclaim "uh oh" and she looked down between
her legs.
   "Leaking badly," she giggled.
   I looked down between her legs and I could see smears of semen on her
sex lips.  There was also a dribble down the front panel of the velour
chair below the seat cushion.  I was astonished at how much there was.
   "Thank heavens for Scotchguard ," I chuckled.
   In truth, I needed this and wanted this as well.  She picked up her
panties and made to wipe herself with them when I stopped her.
   "No.  Use these," I said handing her my boxers.  "I've got clean ones
upstairs," I said quickly.  "Just hold them to stop the leaking," I added.
   She held the boxers against her sex and I took her hand and led her to
the downstairs guest bathroom.  She quickly sat on the toilet.  Without any
self-consciousness she started to pee.  I looked at her and she sat still
with her hands on her knees, holding my shorts.  I stood before her naked
from the waist with my cock now drooping down.  She smirked at me and
reached and flicked the end of my flaccid cock lightly.  My first instinct
was to recoil in defense but I resisted the urge and her fingers waggled
the end.  She grinned at her handiwork.
   "Do you want a quick shower?  A small bath maybe?" I asked.
   "A nice warm soapy bath would be nice," she said gladly.
   Then she smirked.
   "Make myself tasty for after dinner," she added and winked at me.
   I grinned.
   "Nix the ice-cream," I said.  "I've just thought of dessert.
   She stood and wiped herself with toilet paper.  She stepped to the bath
and searched for the plug.
   "Not here Elise.  Use the one upstairs.  There might even be some bath
salts somewhere in the vanity unit," I said quickly.
   I took my shorts from her and pulled them on.  She walked bare bottomed
out into the lounge and gathered up her panties and pants.  She stopped to
pick up her shoes.
   "Leave them there.  They'll be fine there," I said.
   I picked up my pants and pulled them on.  She started for the stairs and
I completed buckling my Dockers and followed her up the stairs.  I had the
delicious sight of her beautiful derriere and the odd flash of her sex lips
as she ascended to the landing.  Just short of the top she turned
deliberately and looked me in the eye with a smirk.
   "Pervert" she said with a wicked giggle.
   "Just spotting dessert," I chuckled.  She poke her tongue at me and
after a brief hesitation to identify the master bedroom, she vanished
through the door.  We ran her bath and I offered her a selection of bath
salts or bubble bath.  She grinned and salted a bit of both into the tub
while the bath filled.  The bubbles appeared quickly.
   "Madam I have some prawns to de-vein," I said in a mock English accent.
   She play-acted along with me.
   "Hurry Jeeves.  Lady Jane is expectant," she said, trying to sound upper
class English.
   I frowned, wondering about the Lady Jane remark.
   "Lady Jane?  Rolling Stones...?  I asked quizzically at the reference.
   "Lawrence.  D H Lawrence," she added in mock exasperation at my
ignorance.  "Haven't you read `Lady Chatterley's Lover'?"
   I looked at her blankly.
   She sighed in mock disgust.
   "Ignorant peasant," she said in the lousy upper class English accent. 
"Lady Chatterley called her pussy Lady Jane.  Or at least Mellor's the
gamekeeper did.  Actually I'm not sure who called it that first...," she
said tailing off as if trying to recall.
   I laughed loudly and pulled my forelock in mock subjugation.
   "Very good m'lady," I'll be back for Lady Jane's pleasure presently,"
and I bowed low while I backed out the door.
   I chuckled all the way down the stairs.  I completed preparing the
prawns and dropped them into the Creole sauce for quick cooking.  I poured
two glassed of the wine and went back upstairs.  She was lying in the tub
covered in bubbles so that only her head was showing.  Our bathtub was a
fee standing antique imitation.  You could walk right around it.  Julie had
had it put in the first year we were in the house.  Unfortunately the
project to upgrade the whole bathroom in this manner had stalled so it
looked very much out of place with the rest of the sink and toilet-ware.  I
stood with the two glasses of wine and looked around for somewhere to rest
hers.  The bath edges were cambered so not able to be used as a ledge.  As
I was looking around she raised a dripping foot and placed it against my
crotch.  It took me by surprise and I started defensively and spilled wine
on my hands.  She giggled loudly and snorted.
   "Men.  You are so sure of yourselves until somebody threatens your
basket," she giggled.
   "Basket?  I thought it was gay boys that had baskets," I said sniffing
at the oblique implication.
   She changed her tone.
   "Get them off and get in here now," she commanded.  "Gay or not, it's a
basket worth having," she chuckled, continuing her tease.
   "Hang on," I said and I put the glasses in the middle of the floor and
raced into the spare room.  There was a small stool in the closet and I
retrieved it and raced back to the bathroom.  I stationed it beside the
bath and sat the two glasses on it.  Then I undressed and stood ready to
step in the bath.  I stopped as she had a serious expression on her face.
   `What?" I asked puzzled.  "What is it?"
   She grinned and licked her lips deliberately.
   "You're very nicely put together Mr.  Danny Shannon, she said in a low
voice.
   I grinned at the compliment.
   "Why thank you ma'am.  I can't reciprocate because I've only seen half
of the package," I laughed.
   With that she sat up and brushed the bubbles from her breasts.  They
were gorgeous.  Not large but full and firm with large aureole and pert
nipples despite the warmth of the bath.  I stood transfixed at her upper
body beauty.
   "Enough?" she asked.
   I pretended to be considering her question then I pulled a face.
   "Nah," I said cheekily.  "I need more..."
   Without a word she stood and I was further impressed.  She was tall. 
Nearly as tall as me but standing in the bath she looked down at me.  And
she was slim with a beautiful figure.  She worked her arms like a snake
charmer and gave me a `come hither' look.  I didn't need a second
invitation and I undressed in a flash, and stepped into the bath.  We
embraced carefully, so as not to slip over, and slowly we descended into a
sitting position, our lips still clinging together.  I reached for her
nipples and worked them slowly in my hands.  She moaned into the kiss and I
felt them stiffen.  She reached under the bubbles and took my cock in her
hands and soon she had me hard.  Once she seemed satisfied with this she
began to gently push me back so I lay back against the end of the bathe. 
This was the sloped end opposite the vertical end with the mock gold
antique taps, so I was half lying back.  I was able to reach forward and
continued massaging her breasts and pinched and pulled her nipples.  The
bath was larger than normal so she had little difficulty in straddling me
and as I watched in rapture as she eased herself up and over me; still
holding my now erect cock.  She stared into my eyes as she slowly eased
herself down as she guided me into her warmth.  She was nice and snug and I
could feel the pressure as she slid down the length with a sigh of
"oooohhhh yessss" until she was sitting on me.  I was buried deep inside
her.  To be honest, sex in a bathtub is not actually that easy for the
simple reason that there tends to be a lot of wash.  As she began to slowly
build up-tempo, rising and falling on the shaft sheathed inside her body,
she started to make a wave.  And as she got the rhythm going the wash
became larger and moved back and forth the length of the bathtub.  Soon the
water was sloshing up past my shoulders and I heard it splash onto the
floor behind me.  At the opposite end, the wave hit the near vertical end
and caused a backwash.  She toiled on, oblivious to the mess she was
creating and I was astonished to see the look of pure abandon as she rammed
down and forward, then back, only to repeat the motion.  She was getting
herself off on me.  In support of her efforts I was getting close to
cumming very quickly.  The depth of penetration was fantastic and she was
tight.  She also looked magnificent with her head cocked to one side and
her hazel eyes half shut.  She was making very little noise but her
breathing gave away that she was in some sort of pleasure mode, such that
she seemed oblivious to me and the mess she was creating in pursuit of
orgasm.  Occasionally she opened her eyes and smiled at me, but soon she
kept her eyes mostly shut, though it looked like they were not shut tight.
She had her hands on my chest, and her fingers were clutching at my pecs as
she grabbed at me as, a kitten claws its mother's fur while suckling.  I
was pondering at what point the bath would be totally empty when all of a
sudden she cried out.
   "Oh yes...oh God, yes," in a high pitched wail and she sat bolt upright
on me and ground herself hard down and mashed her pubis against mine.
   She came hard and quickly, gasping `yes, yes, yes' as she extracted the
last pleasure from her convulsions.  Not to let the moment go, I summoned
all of my strength and began to push back.  But she had me pinned and she
was a dead weight.  I could not muster very much leverage.  But despite the
lack of movement usually necessary to cum, I suddenly released a long spurt
into her.  This was peculiar and very much a first for me; my entire
ejaculation lasted no more than three long and intense spasms, which saw me
spent.  The restriction by her weight and the tightness of her vagina,
primed and triggered by the carnal delight I took from of her orgasm, took
me into this blissful release.  No thrusting, pumping or deep-fucking. 
Just the exquisite pressure and emotional powder keg she had set off in me.
She slumped forward and held me.  The water began to calm though much lower
level than before, and she sighed and drifted into a shallow swoon.  I
circled her body with my arms, my semi hard cock still inside her warmth. I
was pinned.  I was trapped.  I was happy.
   I'm not sure how long we lay this way but Elise came round first.  I
heard her shiver audibly, and she sat up and shook my shoulders.
   "Danny.  It's cold.  Come on, let's get out."
   I stirred and looked at her.  Her lovely face.  The way her medium blond
hair hung forward as she looked down at me.  The neat pert nose and elegant
jaw line with her flawless skin.  Her breasts hung down with the nipples
sharp and proud reflecting the chill she felt.  My cock was soft and
nestled just inside her body.  She placed her hands on the sides of the
bath and levered herself up and put one foot over the side of the tub.  I
saw her sex gape as she stretched her legs apart during this maneuver. 
Soon she was standing on the wet tiled floor, looking down at the large
puddle from the water sloshing out of the bath as she fucked me.  She
turned and took a large towel from the rack beside the bath.  I saw her
gaze down and watched her face as she splashed the water with her foot;
like a little kid with a puddle.  I wagged a reproaching finger at her and
she grinned and poked her tongue at me.
   "Ooops.  You weren't the only thing that overflowed," she giggled.
   I rose from the cool water and stood on the floor.  I walked carefully,
making sure I didn't slip on the wet floor, to the back of the bathroom
door where my toweling robe hung.  I slipped into it and watched as she
wound the towel around her body, tucking it in beside her breast.
   "No problem," I said.  "I'll pick you up by the ankles and just mop it
up with your hair."
   She squealed with laughter and scooted into the bedroom as if I was
going to go through with my threat.  She jumped up onto the bed and I
stopped briefly and pretended smacked her toweled butt.
   "Lady Jane indeed," I said with a chuckle.
   With that I trooped down to the laundry to get the bucket and mop.  I
cleaned the water up around the bath.  She was sitting on the bed watching
me through the door.  I completed swabbing the floor and returned
downstairs with the bucket.  As I turned to go back up I was surprised to
see her coming down the stairs.  She had found a Red Sox tee shirt in my
drawer and I could see she had slipped her panties on as I caught glimpses
of her crotch as she descended towards me.  She looked sexy with her
nipples obvious under the cotton tee.
   "I'm hungry.  How's dinner," she asked.
   I waited for her and took her hand and we walked to the kitchen.  I
lifted the lid from the slow cooker and the Creole prawns were just
bubbling nicely.  It smelt spicy and aromatic.
   "Rice," I said.  "Oh, and there's beer in the fridge; or white wine.  Or
if you prefer, I have a nice Chianti in the dining room," I said pointing
in the general direction of the various alcohol as I spoke.
   "A brewski to start," she said and walked to the fridge, returning with
two Heinekens.
   "Bottle opener in there," I said as I noted she thought they were twist
tops, and pointed to the cutlery drawer.
   I prepared a bowl of rice and placed it in the microwave.  She went
through the cupboards and found two serving bowls and set the table in the
dining room.  She spotted the Chianti on the sideboard and placed this on
the table.  She found two wine glasses from the sideboard and placed one in
front of each set place.  Eventually the rice was ready and I served the
meal.  She ate with relish, expressing her compliments as she ate.  We sat
and chatted about the meal, food and cooking.  Just small talk.  We sipped
our wine and when we finished, she cleared the bowls and forks and put them
in the dishwasher.  The meal was simple, but very tasty, and filling.  She
traipsed into the lounge and sat on the sofa with her legs curled up under
her and sipped her wine.  I joined her and she snuggled into me.
   "Let's talk," she said quietly.  "Tell me about yourself," she said. 
I've just had fantastic sex with a man I know nothing about apart from two
brief and somewhat troubled encounters," she added.  "And both encounters
my husband was present," she added with a nervous giggle.
   So there it started.  I told her all about myself and my humble
beginnings, coming from Missouri.  How my parents struggled bringing up and
educate two kids, to ensure we all got a start in life.  My older sister
married with two girls lived near mom and dad in St.  Louis.  How they had
put us both through college; me her in Massachusetts at Boston College
where I met Julie who was studying law.  I told her how Julie and I met and
our marriage 5 years earlier.  How Julie's parents, Jack and Val, locally
substituted for my own parents being as they were more accessible to Julie
and I.  She listened in silence, occasionally asking small points of
clarification.  She asked me why I thought Julie had changed.  In truth I
couldn't tell.  Maybe it was latent but she never discussed ambition as it
was at odds with the persona I truly believed was her.  But in reality, her
show of being in tune with the "little guy" was a tenet her parents
preached and I had come to wonder if she went along portraying herself as a
compassionate person, to please them.  It was clear to me she loved them
very much and would never knowingly hurt them.  But this shift towards the
`I', `me' capitalist was not something I had seen coming, given what I knew
of her social values and left of centre politics.
   "I still can't grasp why she saw Steve as her way forward," she mused.
   "In reality he's a bit of a screw up.  In more ways than one," she added
wryly.
   "I guess it was all of his outward trappings of success," I replied.
   She screwed her face up and laughed derisively.
   "Ha.  His outward trappings, as you put it, are all on credit.  Usually
mine, she snorted.  "The condo is mine.  Paid for by my father.  The Beamer
is leased.  The Saab is mine," she said inclining her head to the direction
of the drive.  "And the balance of his lifestyle came from us both
squandering good incomes on clothes and supposedly fine living.  In short
we have no money in the bank and huge credit card debts," she added
ruefully.
   "I guess Julie doesn't know any of this," I said almost in defense of my
errant wife.  "But she said he told her you were very rich," I said
cautiously, not wanting to seem like I thought her financial situation was
relevant.  "Oh I can believe that," she said in affirmation.  "Steve was
always one to put across just the right impression.  And as to my being
wealthy...by birth maybe.  But it's not my money he was thinking of."
   "So what about you really then?" I asked.  "Tell me about Elise."
   Not much to tell really.  The only child of Betty and Sam Parsons who
are divorced.  Dad is CEO of his own company and has remarried and lives in
Chicago.  Import export I think the euphemism goes."
   I raised my eyebrows at the description of her father's business.
   "Oh he's legit," she added quickly.  "But he's entrepreneurial and dam
good with it," she explained.  "He and mom were having serious problems
when I was about 15 and one night he just blew a fuse and admitted he'd
been having an affair for about 14 months, and was leaving her.  To be with
his long serving personal assistant.  Mom threw it right back and said she
knew all along, and she was also having an affair." She paused and
continued, "With Judith."
   I raised my eyebrows.
   "What!  Your mother's a lesbian?" I asked surprised.
   "No.  Yes, no.  Not really, probably.  Oh I don't know," she searched
for the answer.  "I don't think she was, but now I guess she is."
   She looked at me.
   "Does that shock you?"
   "No.  Not at all.  I'm certainly not homophobic.  Different strokes..."
I said "By the way, I don't have a basket.  Only gay boys have a basket," I
said with a grin and waggled a reproachful finger at her.
   She laughed out loud at my statement.
   "And he says he's not homophobic..." she giggled.
   She took a sip of Chianti and went on.
   "I took it very hard.  The two of them splitting.  Mom kept her
relationship with Jude a secret from me while she and dad unraveled their
marriage; like I knew about dad and his affair, and mom moved to Philly.  I
stayed in Chicago and finished college and it was during a visit to moms in
my senior year that she came out to me.  At first I was sort of repulsed by
it all but I came to accept it.  And more importantly now I accept Jude as
my much older sister.  Mum's in her early fifties, and Jude is 38."
   She paused, gazing at the floor as she reflected her past life.
   "Mom said she never knew she had the capacity to love another woman. 
She explains that she simply fell in love with someone who happened to be a
woman," she said almost wistfully.
   "Did she not have any latent feelings, or maybe emotions?" I asked.
   "Not that she has ever admitted to.  She said it simply evolved.  Jude
apparently had had several lesbian affairs during her own troubled
marriage. She has a son and daughter who live with their father.  She told
me once that she realized she must be bisexual when she fell for a school
councilor who was helping her daughter through a troubled time at grade
school.  She drifted into clandestine visits to the woman who was a
confirmed lesbian.  From there Jude was introduced to the gay club scene in
Chicago without much solace for her emotional strain from her failing
marriage.  Meeting mom was unexpected and came about in circumstances
contrary to the scene she was secretly frequenting."
   I gazed at her.  Fascinated by this story about her mother.
   "So there you have it," she said brightly.  "Dad was a cheater and mom's
a dyke."
   I laughed at her summation.
   "Don't be so harsh.  You've just described life.  And you and I have our
dimension to the multitude of situations that make up life," I said, trying
to be wise.  "And all I see is your that parents have found a better deal
than they could manage together."
   She nodded her agreement.
   "Maybe it's what we can do," she said wistfully.
   She caught the double meaning of either individually or collectively and
quickly corrected her meaning.
   "Oh.  I meant you and me individually.  Not as, you know, together or
anything.  I wasn't implying we were, you know, an item."
   I chuckled and leaned and kissed her.
   "I know what you meant Elise.  Danny and Elise will sort themselves out,
individually or collectively," I said positively.
   She smiled and nuzzled me.  She looked into my eyes.
   "Who knows eh?" she said.
   "Who knows," I echoed.
   It would be easy to retell every single sexual encounter we had together
but that would be boring.  In short she stayed the rest of the weekend and
we made love on many occasions.  Mostly in bed, though we also had a couple
of hot encounters in the lounge.  She went back home on the Monday morning
and returned on the Wednesday evening, leaving Friday again to arrive back
Saturday morning for the weekend.  Elise worked as a fashion writer for a
syndication house that supplied columns for a number of magazines across
the country.  And she was apparently damned good at it.  She said her boss
was supportive of the situation with her and Steve so she had license to
come and go as she pleased for as long as it took.  For two weeks our
relationship drifted like this.  She would arrive for dinner.  I would cook
and then we would make love.  I quickly felt comfortable with this
situation and came to long for her return every day she left to check her
condo and replenish her clothes.  I was just beginning to slide into a
happy routine when she threw me a real curve ball.
   It was early one mid-week evening when we were lying together in a
dreamy afterglow following a bout of sex.  She was lying nuzzled into me
and we were both quietly reflecting on the moment just passed.
   "I have to go," she said quietly.
   I turned and looked at her.
   "You've just got here," I said surprised at the thought she was not
staying the night.
   "No.  I mean really go.  I have to leave Boston," she continued quietly.
I was shocked.
   "What?  What do you mean," I asked incredulous at her statement.
   I sat up and looked down at her.  There were tears in her eyes.
   "I have to leave Boston," she said and wept.
   She buried her head into my side.
   "Elise, why?  Why do you have to leave Boston?" I asked.
   She sobbed for a short time and I took her face in my hands and made her
look at me.  Her pretty face was streaked with tears and she looked
unhappy. I stroked her hair and eventually she calmed down enough to talk
to me.
   "I'm going to go to Philadelphia for awhile," she said between small
sobs as she gathered her composure.
   "But why?" asked softly.  "Why do you want to leave?"
   "I just need to put some space between me and all that has happened over
the past eighteen months.  With Steve," she said calmly, though she was
clearly struggling to tell me what she had decided.
   "I understand you wanting to get beyond Steve's infidelity, but why
leave," I tried to reason.
   I really meant `why run away'.
   "I need to be somewhere where I can be independent.  Where I make my own
decisions and choices," she said.
   I knew basically what she was saying even if I didn't believe she had to
leave Boston to achieve this.
   "It's all set she said," quietly.  "I've found tenants for the condo and
I move my stuff to Philly on Friday."
   She looked at my sadly.  I was stunned.  Friday!
   "Are you mad at me?" she asked a little tremulously.
   "No.  Of course not.  I'm sad.  Disappointed that you didn't take me
along with your plans that's all," I said evenly.
   She started to sniff and weep.
   "I'm sorry Danny.  You're wonderful.  You've been the steel I needed to
get through the crap with Steve.  I feel so bad I'm basically walking away
from you," she blubbed softly.
   I shook my head.
   "No, no, Elise.  Don't sell yourself short.  You made this happen; with
Steve.  I just lent a hand, that's all," I replied.
   "I couldn't have done it on myself Danny.  Just having you back me up
gave me the strength to go through with it," she answered.
   It was pointless continuing this line of discussion.  Each endorsing the
other as the lynch pin to her finally leaving her husband.
   "So what are you going to do?" I asked to change tack.
   "Eva, my editor, says I can still write my columns from the Philly
bureau.  I may have to travel a little bit, back here and also take in New
York and Baltimore."
   She had composed herself.  So the plan was set.  She had the condo
rented and transferred her job.
   "Where will you live?" I asked.
   "Mom has a friend who is on a sabbatical in Asia for 6 months.  I can
move in there and take time to find an apartment.  Or if I decided I want
to come back to Boston, I'm not tied into a lease or anything," she said
positively as if the Boston scenario was most likely.
   But I didn't see a chance of coming back to Boston as being the
certainty I wanted from her.  I looked at her trying valiantly to hide my
disappointment.  She sat up and took my face in her hands.  "Oh Danny.  I
so much want to stay and see what could become of us.  But I am just so
scared my feelings have been born from the situation we came out of with,
your wife...with Julie and Steve.  I don't know if this is real.  And I'd
hate to think what it would be like to wake up one day and realize we were
together because of that and that only," she reasoned.
   "You think we're both on the rebound?" I asked.
   She hesitated.
   "Sort of.  No, not completely, but it's colored by the circumstances we
met under," she answered.
   I nodded.  I did know what she meant.  I sat and looked ruefully at her.
I embraced her.
   "I guess you must do what you want to ensure you're certain where you're
at with your life.  I can't dispute that.  Maybe it would have been easier
if you had of let me into what you were thinking," I said.
   "I knew you would try and make me change my mind.  I don't mean to be
ungrateful but that's exactly why I have to go.  To put some distance
between me and the immediate emotions.  To see how I felt two, three, six
months out.  To make the decisions for myself without coercion or
influence."
   I frowned.
   "Oh I don't mean you would have brow beaten me.  But I have to do this
Danny.  For me.  Only me." She gazed at me.
   She was clearly being brave and the tears continued to trickle from her
eyes.
   "I understand," I said quietly.  "I know what you mean.  I do.  I'm just
sad, that's all."
   "Me to," she sniffed.
   "So Friday's it is?" I asked sadly.
   She nodded.
   "I thought I could stay here Friday night and drive to Philly Saturday
morning," she added.
   "Of course you can," I said warmly and hugged her.
   We eased back down in the bed and cuddled.  This way we finally drifted
off to sleep.  She stayed Thursday night and I took Friday off and helped
while her furniture and stuff was loaded into a removal van.  I helped her
pack the last little things and then clean the floors after the last boxes
were removed.  I realized the bed in her bedroom was still there and stood
looking at it quizzically.  Had the movers forgotten it?  She came up
beside me and looked at the bed base and frame.
   "I haven't slept in it since that morning we caught Danny having sex
with that girl," she said evenly.  "I've give it to the Salvation Army. 
They are collecting it at four this afternoon, then that's it.  Finished."
   The Salvation Army truck arrived just after four and within twenty
minutes the bed and frame had gone.  She had loaded her travel case into
the trunk of her Saab and we stood on the step as she locked the door.
   "The tenant's move in tomorrow," she said.
   We walked down to our cars and drove back to my house in convoy.  I'd
bought two nice steaks and a bottle of red wine, to make our last meal. 
She had started to join in with meal preparation and was very artistic with
salads.  So a nice salad with a nice steak.  Hers well done as she didn't
like to see the blood from medium or rare meat.  We prepared the meal in
relative silence.  I guess each reflecting on the last few weeks.  Or more
importantly, the next twelve hours.  I was about to put the steak on when
the doorbell rang.  I looked at Elise as if to say `who's this?' and went
to the front door.  I opened it and I was shocked to see Julie standing
there.  My shock must have been evident as initially she was unsure and
demure but when she saw the look on my face she hardened somewhat.  She was
peeved I could be shocked she might ever call.
   "Julie," I exclaimed, barely disguising my surprise.  "What are you
doing here?"
   She pushed past me and walked into the lounge.  She immediately gave the
place the once over and walked towards the dining area on a quick tour of
inspection.  I closed the door and trailed behind her.
   "What do you want?" I asked.
   I was conscious of Elise in the kitchen, and what reaction she and Julie
would have if they saw each other.  My first reaction was to try and ensure
Julie didn't know Elise was there and vice versa.  But the probability of
bluffing either of them was slim so I decided to just let the situation
evolve.  She turned and faced me.
   "Unfinished business," she said evenly.
   I raised my eyebrow slightly.
   "Oh?  In what way?" I asked.
   "I want to finish our divorce," she said looking me in the eye.
   "Finish?  We haven't started yet have we?" I asked.
   She fished in a leather valise she had under one arm and came out with a
manila folder and thrust it out to me.  "Here's the start and finish.  Just
sign it and it will happen," she said almost triumphantly.
   Without hesitation I took the folder and walked to the dining room
table. I flicked my eyes over the document.  It looked in order.  I smiled
at the reasons for the divorce.  `Irreconcilable differences' I smiled
wryly and looked at her.  I had written `adultery' on the petition I had
prepared.
   "Cheryl for Steve," she said evenly.  "We're even.  We're both
adulterers."
   As if she read my mind about adultery.  I hadn't regarded my sex with
Cheryl as adulterous; or Fleur for that matter.  Julie had left by that
time with both of them.  I chuckled.
   "No I think I may have come out slightly ahead here," I said knowing
Elise was in the kitchen.
   She scowled and looked away in disgust at my comment.
   I read quickly through the document.  There was no claim for matrimonial
property as we had discharged that and it looked very simple.  She had
already signed it.  I went to the dresser and took a pen out of a drawer. I
signed the paper quickly and handed it back to her.  She faltered a little
when reaching for it.  Had she been bluffing?  Did I call her bluff by
signing immediately like this?  She looked a little uncertain so I pushed
it at her again to accept it.  At that point Elise came out of the kitchen.
   "What's going on chef?" she said breezily looking around for me.
   She saw Julie and stopped in her tracks.  Julie turned and looked at
Elise, and her jaw dropped open in surprise.  Her face was priceless.  She
just stared for what seemed like eternity.  She dropped her outstretched
hand and stood rooted to the spot.  Elise spoke first.
   "Well well," Elise said quietly.  "The bad penny is it?"
   Julie didn't answer but looked back at me.  Questions all over her face.
   "I might have known." Julie finally said.
   I grinned.
   "Sauce for the goose," I chuckled lightly and stared into Julie's eyes
in triumph.
   "Salad ready?" I turned looking at Elise.
   She smiled sweetly.
   "Just waiting for the grill chef," she answered.  "So if you've
concluded your business here, you need to cook dinner now," she said with a
small curtsy.  Julie looked totally ill at ease at the familiar way Elise
and I were flirting.  Even if she did want to dump me, it must have been
galling to stand in a room she had decorated, seeing another woman with one
of her aprons around her waist, and working in her kitchen.  Even if she
had given it all up.
   "Come on Mellor's, hurry up," Elise said with mock authority, referring
to the Lady Chatterley character.
   She turned and went back into the kitchen.
   I walked beside Julie and slapped the folder against her arm as I came
abreast of her.
   "Pull the door hard on your way out," I instructed.  "It sticks if you
don't pull it hard."
   She looked down at the folder against her arm, and back at me.  She was
searching into my face, trying to read what was really going on in my mind.
To my surprise tears appeared in her eyes.  I couldn't work out if she was
humiliated, genuinely sad or simply hurt by the lack of hesitation or lack
of an argument on my part.  She looked down at the papers again and
eventually took the folder from me.  She stood and fingered the folder and
looked back at me.  Tears now streaming down her face.  I stared at her.
   "Why?" she said choking with emotion.
   "Why what?" I asked.
   "Why Cheryl?  Why her?" motioning to Elise in the kitchen.  "Why?" she
sobbed quietly.
   "I don't know why but I do know how.  Only you know why," I answered
cryptically.
   Elise poked her head back through the door.  "This salad is getting limp
buster," she crowed at me.
   "Coming Lady Jane," I answered mockingly.
   Julie just turned and walked across the lounge to the front door.  She
opened it and just before she stepped out, she turned and stared back at
me. She threw the folder onto the lounge floor and walked out the door.  I
could tell she hadn't closed it properly.  I wandered over and picked up
the folder and pushed the door closed.  `Why had she left this?' I pondered
her action.  Surely Elise's appearance in a seemingly domestic situation
had made her decide to abdicate from taking the final step?  She came here
in a forthright way to serve the papers for signing.  Why the change of
heart even after I had signed.  I looked at our two signatures.  All I need
to do was drop this in the mail and the agreed petition would be executed;
we would be divorced in law.  Did she do this to put the onus back on me,
to start the divorce process?  To make it my decision to post it?  I tossed
the folder onto the couch and walked back to the kitchen.  I walked in to
find Elise leaning with her butt against the kitchen table sipping a glass
of wine.  She held up a second glass and I took it.
   "Is she gone?" she asked shortly.
   I nodded.
   "Then a toast," she offered, holding her glass out to me.
   I touched my glass to hers.
   "A toast.  To what?" I asked.
   "To divorce, and to special friends," she said.
   We sipped our wine and she stepped forward and kissed me hard.
   She finally broke the kiss.
   "Be patient with me Danny.  Please be patient," she said quietly.
   I nodded and kissed her.
   "Right.  Two steaks.  One medium rare, one well done," I said and she
released me and I walked to the grill.
   I threw the first steak on the grill and she joined me and we put an arm
around each other and watched the steak sizzle in the heat.  We ate dinner
and sat at the table and chatted about what she would do in Philly.  How
she would set herself up and how good it would be good to spend some
quality time with her mother.  To get to know her mother's partner Judith,
again.  She confided that both her mom and Judith, or Jude as she called
her, had been very supportive of her decision to finally dump Steve.  Her
mother had talked her into trying again back in January.  But this time she
was adamant Elise had given him every opportunity to mend his ways and she
needed to break his spell.  I jokingly remarked about Judith maybe `turning
her over to the dark side' as a reference to Judith being a lesbian.
   She scowled and gave me a light kick.
   "Sexist pig," she said.  "They say every woman has the capacity for a
lesbian experience," she mused and grinned at me.
   I poked my tongue out at her.
   "Mmmm.  That's the approach to take.  Just what I might need to turn me
lez," she giggled.
   "Oh so you think you might like to eat muff?" I asked jokingly.
   "Actually I thought I might like to have my muff eaten," she said and
gave me a come hither look.
   I called her bluff and dropped to my knees and walked awkwardly around
the table on my knees and buried my head in her crotch.  She giggled loudly
and splayed her legs and laughingly made sexy groaning and moaning.  She
grabbed my head and held it and looked at me.  The laughter gave way to a
more serious sincere look.
   "I think I'm falling in love with you," she said quietly.
   "I think I've fallen in love with you," I said firmly.
   She looked at me for some time.
   "But I have to go," she said quietly.
   "I know," I agreed with her.
   I stood and took her hand.
   "Come on you butch lesbian dyke.  I want to eat muff," I said in a mock
lusty voice.
   I had wanted to lighten our mood.  We had said the ultimate to each
other and there was not much else to say beyond that.  Not for now at
least. I led her up the stairs to the bedroom, leaving the remains of the
uneaten salad and the dirty plates and cutlery on the table.  They could
wait until tomorrow.  We turned off the lights downstairs off and went
upstairs together.  It didn't require much effort to get into the bedroom,
shed our clothes and I flopped on top of her on the bed.  We started by
kissing and I went straight for her pussy lips with a hand and soon I was
fingering her deeply.  She was wet.  I had two fingers inside her I was
running my thumb up against her clitoris.  She was moaning lightly into the
kiss as I bumped her nubbin every so often and her kisses became wet and
sloppy.  I broke the kiss and drifted my face down her neck and suckled a
breast as I worked her with my fingers.  She held me tightly and moaned as
I nipped the breast, and then transferred to the other breast and repeated
the assault.  Then I trailed my lips down her belly and lingered fleetingly
in her navel.  I brought my other hand to a nipple and teased it while I
continued the downward trend finally resting at the top of her vulva.  I
could smell the sweetness as my nose was nestled on her pubis.  I slowly
eased my fingers out and slid my tongue in between the lips and began to
slowly tongue her.  Down the inside of one of her lips and up the other and
burrowed into the clitoris.
   She moaned and began to arch her back.  I then repeated the assault and
once I had my shoulders placed obliquely across her body I was able to run
my tongue up and down her slit.  This angle gave me access with my fingers
and I burrowed slowly in as I suckled her flesh.  She was gasping nearly
out of control now, but I wanted to draw her out so I stopped short of the
clitoris and concentrated on the inner lips, occasionally pushing my tongue
in as far beside my fingers as the cramped condition would permit.  I was
working her over rhythmically and she was moaning and bucking her hips up
each time she sensed I would stop short of her clitoris.  This way she drew
the pleasurable agony from her body and she began panting as I felt her
pulse through my fingers embedded in her vagina.  I now had three fingers
toughly wedged in her.  She was flowing with her juices and I slowly
circled her rose hole with my pinky.  She gasped and gave a long moan as I
slipped the smallest digit into the tight grip of her sphincter.  Her
sexual juices had run down her cleft and wetted her anus.  My finger
slipped in without much resistance.  She groaned and I was amazed how
strong her pulse could be felt from the tight grip of her sphincter.  By
now she was building to orgasm and she was squirming her hips on my hand
and mouth.
   When she came I felt the contraction within her vagina and she clenched
her anus so my hand was locked.  I had moved my tongue onto her clitoris
and was pressuring hard.  Almost pushing with my tongue pursed like stiff
piece of gristle.  She went ape, moaning up to high pitched squeals as the
contraction of her orgasm consumed her.  She got to a point where I
realized she was trying to get away from the madness the hand was wrecking
on her body.  The pleasure had given way to over sensitivity in her sex and
anus and she was now groaning `no, no, no, oh God, nooo' as the orgasm had
subsided, while she attempted to escape my hand.  I eased my fingers out of
her and she gave a low sigh, which ended in a loud groan.  I was absolutely
fascinated by the reaction to the oral sex, which had turned me on. 
Without hesitation I eased quickly up between her thighs, grabbing behind
me, I took a leg under her knees and hoisted her legs suddenly high and I
was able to slip them over the edge of my shoulders.  She gasped and her
eyes opened in surprise as I maneuvered my cock to the wet opening and
simply hunched my hips over her and I slid home with one push.  She hissed
and groaned as I started to fuck her.  This was one sided.  I had no
intention of exploring her capacity to repeat her orgasm.  This was for me.
I fucked her as hard and as roughly as the carnal mood that had overtaken
me allowed.  She grunted as I bottomed out into her.  I had her butt up of
the bed and was half crouching now, as I bored down.  I felt my balls
slapping her butt and she run her hands under the small of her back with
her elbows propped against the bed like struts, to hold herself up to me as
fucked her mercilessly.  I couldn't last long at this pace and soon with a
deep growl like a mad dog defending his bone, I slammed her hard as I came
and came again into her.  The sweat was pouring off me, running down my
crotch and slicking the union of my cock in her cunt.  She held herself as
long as she could against the onslaught but finally my effort forced her to
succumb and she moved her hands away and let her hips fall back to the bed.
I lost depth of penetration but I was spent and slowly shuddered to a halt.
   I don't know what the time was but I came too on top of her just as I
had finished fucking.  She was lying under me breathing quietly in a deep
sleep.  It was dark and I could make out objects in the room from the
twilight that filtered through the window.  The curtains had not been
pulled we were so eager to have sex.  I was soft and my cock had slipped
out of her and nestled against her crack.  I eased myself slowly off her
and as silently as I could, I stood on the floor.  I was busting for a piss
so I went into the bathroom, pushing the door mostly closed behind me.  I
pissed a strong acrid stream of piss into the bowl, trying not to splash
loudly so I would not wake.  As I was finishing my piss, I realized a shaft
of light was coming from the bedroom through the crack of the nearly closed
door.  She had turned a light on.  I finished my piss and because she was
clearly awake, I flushed the deep amber liquid in the bowl and turned and
went back into the bedroom.  She was sitting half up with her legs splayed,
like a woman about to give birth.  She blushed when she saw me.
   "Cloth," she said urgently.
   I wheeled and went to the bathroom again and took a washcloth, which I
run under warm water from the faucet.  I wrung it so it was damp not wet
and returned and handed it to her.  I watched as she dabbed against her
vulva and wiped between the creases of her thigh and abdomen and back over
her anus.  She did this with her legs splayed wide and I could see the open
vagina and rouge of her sex lips as she wiped and dabbed gently.  She then
got off the bed and looked at the sheet.  It had a large damp patch and I
could vaguely make out the slick mess of semen that had pooled on a
depression.  The lowest point.  Her body had leaked my ejaculation back
while we slept.  She grimaced as she looked at me staring at her ablutions.
   "Sorry," she said apologetically.
   I grinned.
   "That was so fucking hot," I said quietly.
   "It was wasn't it?" she agreed.  "But the bed clothes..."
   "They'll wash," I answered casually.  "Here, hop off."
   She got off the bed and I reached and drew the bed clothes off and
scrunched it into a bundle of fabric.  I carried them to the laundry basket
in the bathroom and dropped them in the bottom.  She had followed me in and
when I turned she was sitting demurely on the toilet and I could hear the
strong flow of her pee into the water in the bowl.  She sat and smirked at
me, hands on knees, sitting very prim and proper as she emptied her
bladder. She took a small piece of toilet tissue and I watched her
mechanically fold it three times and then she dabbed herself.  She stood
and dropped the paper into the bowl and she inspected her handiwork as she
reached for the lever and flushed.  I was fascinated and a little
melancholy that this honest intimacy I was sharing with her would soon be a
recent memory.  Perhaps forever.  I felt pleasantly sad.  Flushed with the
joy of the sexual release but there was a small element missing, or removed
by the underlying sadness of what the daylight would bring.  She washed her
hands loosely under the faucet, not using any soap and dried them quickly
on a hand towel.  Instinctively she looked at herself in the mirror and
flicked her hair into some semblance of tidiness.  She turned and smile
warmly at me standing naked in the bathroom and she walked to me and we
embraced and kissed.  She kissed me for a few seconds then pulled back and
with a quizzical look on her face she stared into my eyes.  She grinned.
   "I can smell me," she said.  "You muff diver you," and she gave me a
playful slap on my arm in mock punishment.
   She kissed me again.  I concentrated on my sense of smell and sure
enough I could detect the faint odor of her sex under my nose.  I broke the
kiss and grinned.
   "I'm not washing my face for a month," I said gallantly.
   She screwed her face up.
   "Eeww.  Not that long.  It will get a bit raunchy," she chuckled.
   "I sure hope so," I answered.
   She hit my arm again.  "Pig".
   "Aaaaaand loving it," I said, mocking the famous Maxwell Smart Agent 86.
   I looked at my watch.  It was only 9:30pm but it felt like it was much
later.
   I took her hand and led her back to bed.  We replaced the bed linen
together and then crawled in and she nestled in the crook of my arm.  We
lay silent for some time.  Neither of us wanting to ruin this last sweet
night together before she would leave for Philadelphia.  It was this way
that we drifted off to sleep.  At some point in the night, we disentangled
ourselves in search of a more comfortable posture.  Asleep but with a
conscious level that led her to lie on her side and me to spoon behind her
and embrace.  Her.  The morning arrived far too soon for me.  I woke at
about 6:30 and she had left the bed.  I could hear the shower running.  To
my disappointment I was about to rise and tiptoe into the bathroom when I
heard the thud of the shower mixer and the sound of the running water
stopped.  She had finished.  Rather than make a pest by going into the
bathroom I lay in bed.  Feeling sad as the clock slowly climbed to 7:00am.
She had planned to get under way about 8:00.  She had timed her rising
well. Time for a light breakfast and to allow me to shower after her before
a sensible winding down of our closeness, to her departure.  She was trying
to make this as easy as possible for both of us.  I lay there asking myself
if I loved her.  I didn't know.  We had been together no more than two
wonderful weeks since she found her husband with the girl in their bed.  I
knew she was right about being cautious about reading a more serious
relationship into our sudden deep emotional attachment.  In truth we were
both on the rebound irrespective of what we may be feeling.  And she had
had two years of the stress of her husband's infidelities, with the final
relief she could start to put that behind her.  I was a part of the baggage
she wanted to shed so I had to allow her the chance to find her feet and
sort out what she wanted.  We had talked about the possibility of her
returning to Boston but it was only ever discussed as an equal option to
staying in Philadelphia, traveling to Europe or moving out west to meet up
with an old college friend who had been her bridesmaid.  We had discussed
it in depth only once the day after she admitted she was moving, and since
then I did not feel it fair to raise the issue again.  I felt if she wanted
to go over it again she would bring it up.  But she never did.  There were
brief moments where I wanted to simply say `stay' but I knew that would be
unwelcome pressure.  I kept my silence.
   She emerged from the bathroom in a towel and went to her small bag and I
watched her as she took out a pair of panties and pulled them on.  She
watched me watching her and I was feeling so much attached to her as I
reveled in the simple act of her dressing.  She pulled on a small camisole
and then a plain white shirt.  I almost drooled at the warm swelling of her
sex in the white panties she wore, as I caught a glimpse of her crotch
between the flaps of her shirt.  She took out a pair of faded Levis and
pulled them on.  She was looking at me between making necessary adjustments
to her clothing as she dressed.  Finally she was dressed.  She looked
beautiful.  Simple plain casual clothes with the stark white of her upper
garments giving her a purity enhanced by the honey blonde hair she had
tucked behind each ear.  I could make out the faint protruding nipples
without the encumbrance of a bra.
   "Come on slow coach," she said and clapped her hands.  "Into the shower
or no breakfast."
   I smiled and blew her a kiss.  I stepped onto the floor and stretched;
my cock bobbing as I shuddered with the pleasure of stretching from my
night's sleep.  I had slept well, no doubt about it.
   "And don't get any ideas with that," she said playfully tapping my cock
with her fingers as she made to pull the bedcovers right back to air the
bedding.
   I turned to hold her and she stopped and we kissed.  I was contemplating
rolling her back and getting her pants off again but she was onto me and
pulled back with a laugh and waggled a disapproving finger at me.
   "Naughty, naughty, Danny Boy.  Shower," she commanded.
   I feigned disappointment like a child who had been denied his favorite
toy, or candy and made a big show of scuffing my feet reluctantly into the
bathroom.  I showered and shaved quickly and returned to dress.  I pulled
on some jeans and a Red Sox polo shirt.  I slipped a pair of scuffs on my
feet and padded down the stairs.  The bacon she was cooking smelt inviting
as I neared the bottom of the stairs.  She had set the kitchen table for
two with orange juice at each place.  The bacon sizzled under the broiler
and I could see she was doing eggs over-easy, as I liked them.  I had
taught her the simple art of breakfast cooking and she learned it well. 
She had timed it perfectly and she slid my eggs onto a plate and then
placed a few rashers of bacon and a raw tomato on the plate beside the egg.
She had bacon and a tomato.  She wasn't a big egg fan.  We sat and ate
breakfast without saying much.  We both knew that 8:00 was rapidly
approaching.  It was 7:45.  We chatted about the drive and her best route.
I noted the weather was bright but with a high overcast sky.  Maybe rain
later.  She would head out Mass Pike and down to Hartford and from there
down I-90 to I-95.  She figured she would make Philadelphia mid-to-late
afternoon, allowing for a couple of comfort stops and food and gas.  We
finished our breakfast and she rose and gathered the plates and began to
pack the dishwasher.  She had stacked the broiler pan and the egg pan in
the sink and she began to tidy the table by removing the place mats and
condiments.  I stopped her.  "Leave that.  You get your gear together.  I
have all day to tidy up here," I said.
   She smiled and nodded and simply left the room.  I heard her padding up
the stairs.  I finished clearing the table and stood and looked out the
kitchen window.  The trees were well under bud now.  Some had even sprouted
small light green leaves.  Spring was with us now.  I walked into the
lounge and she had arrived at the bottom of the stairs with her overnight
bag.  We stood and looked at each other.  About 5 feet apart.  We locked
eyes and I realized she had tears.  She walked slowly towards me and I
embraced her.  She choked back a few sobs and we stood in a silent embrace.
She finally snuggled in and looked up at me.  Her bag resting beside her
foot.  She had stopped the shallow sobbing but the tears trickled slowly
down her cheek.
   "Write me?" she asked quietly.
   "Can I call?" I answered.
   "No.  Write me.  Not an email.  A letter," she said.  "I'll call you if
I feel I have to," she continued.
   My heart sank.  Was this a brush off, don't ring me I'll ring you?  She
grinned bravely but gave another sob.  I held her close and she quickly
composed herself.  She fumbled under her shirtsleeve and produced a small
scrap of handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose
superficially.
   "Well.  Best get under way," she said almost ruefully.
   She picked up the bag and took my hand and we walked to the door.  As we
drew abreast of the couch she did a double take when she saw the manila
folder with the divorce papers I had tossed there yesterday evening after
Julie had dropped them on the floor as she left.  She stopped and looked
quizzically at the folder and back at me.  I had forgotten about the
folder.
   "What are you going to do with them?  She asked softly.
   "Post them," I said firmly.
   She looked at me almost in pity.
   "Are you that sure?" she asked.
   "Yes," I said firmly again.
   She nodded but I knew she was skeptical.  The truth is I wasn't sure
what it all meant.  Julie discarding the papers we had both signed.
   "She couldn't do it," she said blankly.  "She's chickened out and left
the decision to you," she said dully as she looked back at the folder.
   I nodded.  I think she was right.  "I hope you make the right decision,"
mysteriously.
   I was trying to read her face.  To get some inkling of what maybe she
thought I should do.  But I saw no clue.  She started to move towards the
door and I opened it for her and we stepped outside.  It was cool but had
the feel it would be warmer as the sun rose higher in the sky.
   "A good day to drive," I said helpfully.  Not raining but not too bright
either.
   She nodded and we walked to her car.  She unlocked the doors and placed
her bag on the back seat and closed the door.  She stood by the driver's
door and turned, her butt leaning against the door.  I embraced her one
more time.  We both knew this was not the place for a more intimate kiss.
Instead we embraced as old friends.  I kissed the top of her head and she
squeezed my forearm.
   "I'll never forget you and what you did for me," she said quietly.
   The tears had come and gone and she was dry-eyed and strong.
   "Don't make it so final Elise.  It needn't be.  Just keep an open mind
about me.  About us," I said.
   She smiled.
   "Of course I will she said," quietly.
   There was no real conviction in her voice and I knew it was no better
than 50/50 at best, if we were ever to get together.  No place now to
bargain or make considerations for a future.  She kissed me lightly on each
cheek and then turned and got into her car.  She started the engine and
lowered the window.  She reached out and squeezed my arm once more.
   "Bye Danny," she said evenly.
   "Bye Elise.  Drive safely.  Get home safely," I wished her well.
   "I will.  Take care.  Bye," and with that she backed the car slowly out
of my driveway.
   She turned the wheels and as I stood and watched, she blew me a kiss and
her car disappeared up the street to the first intersection, where she
turned out of my view.  I stood quietly waving, hoping she was watching me
in her rear vision mirror but I couldn't tell.  She was gone.  Well at
least she wanted me to write her.  Then it dawned on me.  She never gave me
an address.  I stood with the realization that I had no idea where her
mother lived apart from Philadelphia.  She had meant not to tell me the
address.  I turned and trudged grimly back into the house.  I walked into
the house and closed the door.
   ***
   JULIE
   I stood and looked at the manila folder on the couch.  I walked to it
and picked it up and opened it.  I looked at the divorce papers and thumbed
through them.  There on the back page was Julie and my signatures.  I
looked at the signatures.  Mine, flamboyant and nearly illegible, belying
the neatness I practiced as an architect.  And the small, neat, easily
legible signature that was Julie's.  I had the final chapter of our
marriage in my hands.  What to do?  I carried the contents to the dresser
and opened the door.  I took out the book of stamps and looked at them.  I
took the papers from the folder and then opened the large envelope that was
in the folder with the papers.  It was already addressed with a stamp in
place for mailing.  I placed the papers inside the envelope and sealed it.
I'll post it Monday.  I had taken today off as I knew Elise's leaving would
make it impossible to do any meaningful work.  It was ready to go any time
so why did I think Monday?
   Elise never called to say she had arrived in Philadelphia.  I got
through the weekend Ok despite the fact that I was probably more sad than
when Julie had left me the time she came to settle on the house value.  I
had planned to have the lounge and dining room floors sanded and stained
and polished.  The carpet was old and becoming threadbare in doorways.  It
was part of a plan Julie and I had had to upgrade the house and to add
value through renovation.  Then once refurbished, we would sell the house
on and use the capital gains to trade up to a better place.  We had
re-carpeted the upstairs, and the stairs themselves.  But two downstairs
rooms were separate enough from each other and the rest of the house, such
that two floors without carpet would not be out of keeping.  The
contractors ripped the carpet out mid-week and sanded both floors.  I had
removed the lounge furniture and dining furniture to the garage to stop it
getting saturated with the dust.  The workmen were expert at sanding and
most of the dust was contained but there was a thin film of sanding dust on
the windowsills, and evident in the net curtains at the windows.  Testimony
to how much escaped the vacuum effect of the machine sander.  The floor had
been given a sealer coat that already lifted the natural grain and color of
the wood.  The men would return on Monday to apply the 6 coats of epoxy
based hardened lacquer that would deepen the hue of the timber and give it
a tough wearing surface.  The whole job would last two weeks before I could
return the furniture.  The sealer was applied to hold the sanded wood so
any moisture would not get into the exposed wood grain and leave a water
stain, as well as a protection against any higher than normal humidity.  I
had set my drawing board up in the guest room and I was finishing some
details of a couple of small jobs I had on domestic dwellings when the
front door bell rang.  I frowned at the prospect of having to cross the
lounge to answer it.  Instead I went out the back door and wandered around
the side of the house to the front.  To my surprise, Julie was standing on
the porch.  She was leaning to one side trying to peer through the window.
She had rung the bell several times as I had walked around the house.
   "I'm here," I said curtly as she rang the bell again.
   I could tell she was becoming irritated at the lack of movement from
inside.  She jumped noticeably at my voice, obviously not prepared for any
approach from the side.  Her first reaction was a scowl, as she clearly
felt foolish at jumping at the sound of my voice.
   "What the hell are you doing there?" she said in admonishment.
   "Well I might have been working in the yard when I heard the bell ring,"
I said sardonically.  "But I wasn't.  I can't use the lounge door."
   "Why?" she asked, still a little frosty.
   "Because I've had the lounge and dining room sanded and sealed," I
answered in exasperation at her snippy tone.
   Her face lit up.  She realized exactly what the situation was, being as
we had gone into the process in some depth months earlier.  Only we hadn't
enough money to complete the job for cash, which is what she wanted.  Of
course I was doing it on repayment terms and frankly couldn't be bothered
with waiting until I had the not inconsiderable sum saved.
   "Let's see," she said brightly, and skipped off the side of the porch
and passed me and walked quickly around the house to the back door.  I
followed and I finally caught up with her when she was standing in stocking
feet looking at the living room from the dining room.  She squatted and run
her hand over the floor.  She heard me come up behind her.
   "May I?" she asked.
   "You may," I confirmed.
   She padded into the lounge and I watched for the next few minutes as she
scoured the floor looking for imperfections; nail heads raised by the
sanding around them, or gouges made by over aggressive use of the sander.
She had on a pair of khaki cargo pants that had slightly baggy legs but
firm around her neat butt and crotch, without being skintight.  The ones
with a few raised pockets on the sides of the legs.  She had on a small
fawn pea jacket and a light mauve tight sweater underneath.  Her pert
breasts looked larger than they really were, due to the sweater being tight
around her torso.  She had let her shorter blond hair grow and she had her
hair pulled back in a small ponytail with a stretch band holding it tight
against her scalp.  I felt a pang of remorse about our current
circumstances.  I had forgotten the feelings I had felt in better times. 
Subjugated by my efforts to put up damage control over her affair.  She
looked lovely.  No makeup.  Just her beautiful natural complexion and
eyebrows and long lashes.  She caught me ogling her and I was embarrassed
that it took some seconds to realize she was staring at me feasting on her
form.  Almost reminiscing and imagining her naked.  She stood and stared at
me and all of a sudden she moved quickly towards me.  Before I could assume
some composure from my staring at her she wrapped her arms around me and
kissed me long and passionately with a wet mouth.  Her tongue darting in
and swirling inside of my mouth as she pressed herself into me as he leaned
up to reach my mouth with her kiss.  I caved in and hugged her and kissed
her back.  Before I could stop myself I let out an involuntary groan and
pressed her to me.  She was a lot smaller than me but her urgency gave her
strength, which surprised me, and she twisted us around and directed us
towards the stairs.  At first I thought she was going to lead me up the
stairs to the bedroom but as soon as we reached the bottom stair, she laid
back pulling me with her.  I was taken by surprise at her apparent
horniness.
   She began pulling at my shirt and she soon bared my chest.  Next she
turned her attention to unbuckling my pants and she shoved her hand in the
top of my shorts and quickly pulled my cock out.  I had a hand wedged in
her crotch and she groaned as I applied pressure to her vulva through her
pants.  I was hard in her hands and she broke the kiss and arched her back
with her head against the third stair as leverage while she lifted her hips
and released the button on her pants.  I helped her draw them down and her
white panties came into view.  Not the usual conservative cotton tops she
was fond of but a pair of ice white lace cutaway briefs.  I could see the
dark shadow of her pubic hair through the lace front, as she arched her
hips and pulled the pants down to her ankles.  I hustled my own pants down
off my butt and taking my cock in one hand while propping myself on a stair
with the other I maneuvered my hips towards her crotch.  She quickly
shucked her panties and eased her butt back against the bottom step.  I
guided my cock into her and I was astonished she was so wet.  Julie usually
relied on slow foreplay for sexual preparedness but she was definitely hot
very quickly.  She groaned as I filled her out with one long shove and she
brought her arms up around my back, under my armpits and held me.  Many
times since she left, I had seen her as a sexual leper having allowed that
asshole Steve into this intimate treasure trove which I regarded as mine
and mine alone.  I always said I could never ever go back in here.  My body
told my brain I was deluding myself and I pushed as hard and as deep as I
could humanly get inside of her.  Part in anger and wanting to punish her
for her infidelity with this which was my right; part just plain lust.  I
started to slow fuck her; mesmerized by this newfound sexual spontaneity
and energy my estranged wife was showing me.  This effect was incredibly
carnal and I slow fucked her.  Drawing almost out, then pushing deep into
her.  Despite her wetness, she was still snug and as tight as I remembered.
My cock felt huge and my ego was humming as I fucked her.  She struggled
her face up to meet mine and we kissed passionately as I continued to
long-dick her.  I was in heaven and her groan into my mouth was an
incredible turn on.  She started humping back on the in-stroke and soon she
was concentrating on her own movements that she broke the kiss and started
urging me on and issuing short breathless encouragements.  I bore down on
her and mashed my pubic bone against her own pubis and so doing pressured
her clitoris.  She groaned her approval and I heard her gasp "that's it
Danny, there, there, oh yes, oh fuck."
   She had hardly ever spoken during sex before and the breathless urgings
spurred me on.  I started to pick up the pace, but she quickly slowed me
back by placing a hand on the small of my back and breathlessly whispering
"slow, slow, long, slow, hard." I followed her urging and settled back to
the previous slow rhythm but bottomed out inside her, feeling my cock hit
against her cervix as I mashed her clitoris with my groin.  She slid her
other hand between us and I felt it wrap my cock, as it was moving in and
out.  "Oh God I've missed this so much" she purred.
   I was surprised at this.  She was checking the union of our sexes.  The
spread of her lips and I swear my cock grew fatter with the electricity
caused by the intruding hand.  She rolled the palm up and outside on my hip
and then I felt it join her other hand which was regulating my stroke, on
my butt.  She was pulling me to her but now restricting the withdrawal and
she started to jerk her hips in time to my now restricted stroke.  I could
feel her grip me as she restricted my stroke further to a point that I was
barely moving and she was now more or less rubbing herself against my
captive pubis.  She was no crooning the word "yes" under her breath. 
Barely audible but with a deep hiss.  She started to moan louder and I
realized she was starting a long deep orgasm.  I knew she was more than
capable of sexual pleasure during intercourse but she had got there on a
different rhythm than we had normally practiced.  She held my butt and
rutted herself hard at me while virtually trapping any movement from
myself. I had no option but to allow her to bring herself off, albeit with
my cock now buried deep inside her.  I could hear her grunting and this
turned into a low wail and I felt her sex contract against my cock, which
felt like it would explode with internal pressure, it was so hard.  She
came and came and hugged me to herself as she nursed herself through her
orgasm, groaning and gasping and trembling.  I had been studying her face
all the way through the efforts she was putting in to restricting me from
simply giving her a solid ego-driven fucking, and she held my eyes as she
whispered her words.  I was transfixed by the way she had taken complete
control of the fuck.  As she came down from her final contraction against
me she smiled broadly and held me still.  She looked into my eyes tenderly
and soon I saw the tears well up and tumble down her cheeks.  Big rolling
tears set off by the release of the pent up emotion and obviously due in
part to the sexual release she had just experienced.
   "I love you" she sobbed and the tears flowed freely down her face
running down her jaw line and dripped onto the stairs.  "I love you Danny,"
she sobbed a second time.  "Please love me, please forgive me and love me
again," She sobbed and she reached and held my face and searched my eyes
with hers, looking for confirmation I might feel the way she was feeling.
   I was paralyzed.  This was so unexpected yet it was so easy in happening
and I had absolutely no complaint about this situation.  It wasn't just her
sexual fervor that was so great; and I still hadn't cum and I was simply
buried inside her not moving.  But I had suddenly felt the same pang of
remorse and longing that I had felt when I had watched her in the sitting
room before she came at me.  Only now the realization that she was back in
my arms completely bowled me over.
   "I love you Jules," I gasped.
   I couldn't believe my own ears.  6 months of putting up the battlements
of my emotions suddenly swept away by thuncontrollably in joy as she
cuddled my head.  We held each other tightly and I gave into the emotion
and wept as she cried against my neck.  We continued like this for a minute
or two and eventually we both gained composure and she lay, somewhat
awkwardly, while she cradled my face with her hands and pecked my face with
soft kisses.  I was getting cramped and was wondering how she could stand
the three separate pressure points on her body, from the bottom three
stairs.  She looked past my shoulder and I heard her gasp.  She held my
face and looked at me.
   "You haven't cum yet," she said apologetically.
   I shrugged.
   "It's OK," I mumbled so as to avoid her knowing I was on the verge of
sniveling like a baby.
   It wasn't.  I wanted to pound her through the carpet.
   "Come on babe.  Get there," she said hissed quickly.
   And she placed her hands on the stairs either side of her hips to brace
herself.  I Eased out of her so the cock head was just inside her, and
kneeled on the floor.  I picked her ankles up and lifted her legs up.  At
first she was apprehensive but I was able to draw her legs over my
shoulders and from a kneeling position I was at the right level to simply
fuck into her while holding her legs and hips up.  In short I fucked her no
more than a dozen long vigorous shoves before the ecstasy of my orgasm
consumed me and I poured my cum deep into her womb.  She braced herself as
I shoved into her hard and I saw she was smiling at me.  A smile of
approval as she saw the look of joy on my face; tears running down my
cheeks from passion and sentiment, as I finally came to a sputtering halt
and slumped forward dropping her legs and propping my hands either side of
her body on the stairs.  She wrapped her arms around my head and cradled it
against her shoulder.  I eased back after a few minutes rest and sat back
on my haunches.  My cock was still half erect and jutted forward between my
thighs.  In the past she would have sought to cover herself and make me
cover up, but she just lay there and looked at me.  She was naked from the
waste.  I realized I had not so much as touched a breast through her
sweater, let alone inside her bra.  The whole episode lasted no more than
ten minutes and we were both weary from the effort.  Her sex gapped a
little and I was surprised to note that the unruly bush of pubic hair she
usually had, was now a single rectangular strip, which was cropped quite
short, with just a hint of curl.  The sex lips were turned out and I could
see the pinkness of the inner lips.  There was a slight sheen from her sex
juices and from my slowly leaking cum which tinged the labia.  I could tell
she had perspired in her groin as there was wetness in the crease between
her mons and her inner thighs.  She saw me studying her sex.  I looked at
her and she grinned.
   "Like?" she asked simply.
   "Love it," I answered firmly and bent and run my tongue around her
groin, tasting the salty sweat on her flesh and smelling the sweet sickly
smell of sex, we had both generated.
   At first I think she thought I was going down to cream pie her, but it
was a show of affection more than another act of sex.  A sort of intimate
confirmation of her body by tasting her.  I sat back and her look of
expectation faded.  But I felt she wasn't disappointed I didn't make it
into sex.  I looked down again and I was startled to see a long ribbon of
cum starting to drip from her vagina, near her perineum.  It slopped onto
the carpet on the stairs.  My seed sliding slickly out of her body
fascinated me.  I was so deep when I came but gravity played its part and
she was seeping as I squatted and looked at her.
   "What?" she said suddenly.
   I grinned and slipped my fingers under her buttocks propped on the
bottom stair.
   "You're leaking," I said matter of factly.
   She looked at me with a peculiar look on her face.
   "Leaking," she asked.
   "Yep.  Big puddles," I answered.
   She quickly reached under herself and drew her fingers up into her
vulva. She scooped a little cum from her body and she brought it to her
nose and sniffed it.  She then astounded me when she slipped her fingers
into her mouth and l licked the semen off tentatively.  She smacked her
lips in mock appreciation.
   "Mmm.  Not bad," she said.
   It occurred to me that the few isolated times I had coaxed her into
sucking me she had never swallowed.  She was not a fan of fellatio and
whenever she indulged me, I always came outside of her mouth, or quickly
buried myself in her vagina and came there.  She reached back again and
drew her fingers through again.  She studied her fingertips.  There was
only a small trace.  She looked up at me and to my surprise she offered her
fingers.  I took her hand and deliberately ran my tongue all over her
fingers.  I could taste the residue of the semen but the most compelling
sense was the sweet odor of her sex.  I kissed her fingertips in
appreciation and slowly drew her up to standing.  We must have looked a
sight.  Trousers and shorts and panties around her ankles.  I put my foot
in the crotch of her panties and quickly lifted her easily up off the
ground.  She gasped at the sudden move and then giggled as she realized her
panties and trousers were now free of her legs.  She stood in her white
ankle sox and sweater.  Her firm mound with the patch of hair jutting proud
between her thighs as I looked down at her.  I kicked my own jeans and
shorts clear.  I had been bare foot when she arrived.  Like her I was now
naked from the waist.  I scooped her up into my arms and carried her up the
stairs.  She looked surprised then wriggled so she was more comfy and she
looked at me and grinned as I carried her to the bedroom.  I wasted no time
shucking the remaining clothes from us both, and laying her on the bed I
knelt and spent at least 20 minutes making love to her body with my mouth
and tongue.  Running my tongue under her breasts, around the pert nipples
and down between her thighs and slid my tongue into her vulva.  I
disciplined myself to concentrate solely on her pleasure and was turned on
by the fact she came twice.  Once by working the nipples and not touching
her cunt.  She was exasperated at this and tried to touch herself.  This
was a huge step forward from her previous repressed approach to
masturbation or any sort of self touching.  But her nipples did the trick
and I was able to fend her hands off herself as she finally succumbed to my
tongue and teeth on her nipples.  Then I followed this up, to devote more
time to the vulva and run my tongue in deep to her sexual well.  Emboldened
by her cries of encouragement, I slid fingers deep inside while I scraped
her clitoris with my tongue.  As she started to cum a second time, I
slipped my pinky into her anus.  She went ape and lifted her hips high as
she came and came.  This caused my little finger to bury completely in her
anus and she gasped at the shock of discomfort and pleasure it was giving
her.  I finally brought her down and drew myself up beside her.  She was
sated.  She looked helplessly at me and I knew she was just hoping I did
not want her to rally and do me in the same way.  She was exhausted.  I
grinned and kissed her lips, transferring her sex taste to her lips.
   "Divorce papers?  She whispered breathlessly.
   "In the sideboard," I answered studying at the look of panic on the her
face.
   "Trash?" she whispered quizzically.
   "Trash," I said firmly.
   She cuddled me and I rolled onto my back and she rolled into the crook
of my arm and we fell into a deep doze.  We were both sated and satisfied.
   EPILOGUE
   Julie was home.
   Time flew by.  Julie moved back home within a month of this
reconciliation sex.  We discussed reuniting immediately but we both
admitted the best course of action was to take things slowly.  We did this
for all of two weeks.  But we threw caution to the wind after a passionate
night following a ritzy dinner in Boston.  Our sex life was unbelievable.
Never like this first time around.  She was totally different.  Passionate
and amoral.  I asked her sheepishly what had changed.  I was scared she had
learned this new sexual awareness from Steve or some other lover I may not
have known about.  She admitted it was Cheryl who had opened up her eyes
and her mind to enjoying sex without regret.  She eased my fears by
confirming Steve was her only lover since we had married and he wasn't
exactly great.  A wham bam thank you man, as she put it.  It cheered me up
in a small way but it did feel weird hearing her talk about it.  She
interrogated me on Elise but steered clear of asking about Cheryl.  I
learned she never knew about me and Fleur so that was best kept quiet.  She
confessed rather sheepishly much later in our marriage that Cheryl had
given me an A+.  She hated that and it had taken a long time for her to
admit this to me, it hurt her so much.  When she and Cheryl started
speaking again Cheryl basically gave her older sister a crash course in The
Enjoyment of Sex 101.  Porno movies, racy books and trash fantasy talks
over a bottle of Tequila and a few spliffs, with Fleur.
   In the small hours of the morning before our eventual reconciliation,
after multiple bouts of sex starting the night before, we opened up to each
other.  For the first time I told he how I had felt as her affair began to
unfold.  The suspicion offset with denial and finally the discovery.  I
admitted to repressing how I felt in an effort to demonstrate I was OK.  I
never did have a chance to feel sorry for myself and grieve.  Maybe my
whole attitude towards her may have been different.  She cried and sobbed
how sorry she was, as I related my tale.  We lay silent for a short while
and then she gave me her side of events.  I knew the detail and she had
already touched on it when she moved out.  But she said the feeling she
thought she felt for Steve collapsed when he refused to leave Elise,
despite the promises and plans he had made prior to the discovery of the
affair.  She felt so stupid that any thought of coming home and asking for
forgiveness was out of the question.  I had done a good job at convincing
her that I was quickly moving on.  She basically stayed in an emotional
vacuum as she settled in with Cheryl, Fleur and Tony.  She thought of
broaching a trial reconciliation on numerous occasions but never had the
guts to ask, fearing rejection and ridicule.  Then when she and Steve
started dating again he went back to claiming he was going to leave Elise
and Julie believed him yet again.  Of course he was also seeing Anne
Cornish.  That's where Elise and I appeared a second time.  Her rekindling
of her affair with Steve came straight after she found out about Cheryl and
I.  Then of course her world with Steve crashed down again.  By now her
resentment towards me for screwing her sister made her decide to sever the
ties between us forever.  But finding me with Elise really threw her off
and she left that day realizing she was still in love with me.  She
admitted to feeling jealous and unhappy I had paired off with her fickle
lover's wife.  She conceded she left the divorce papers with me, to force
me to take the decision on us.  When she realized nothing was heard from
the registry of marriages, she deduced I had obviously not mailed the
papers and she had turned up that day we made love, to find out what was
happening.  When I asked her why she had jumped me the way she did she
confessed it turned her on the way I was looking at her.  She had enough of
inkling to believe I would not reject her but her own flood of wanting me
was totally unexpected to her; as well as me wanting her.  That next
morning we retrieved the divorce papers from sideboard and we destroyed
them together by burning them in the metal lid of the trash bin.
   Julie is 6 months pregnant and a year has passed since she came home. 
When I asked her if she wanted to take maternity leave, she smiled and
pecked me on the cheek and said she just wanted to be a mom.I never ever
heard from Elise again.  Just as well really.  Julie and my love had
endured a severe battering but we came through each other's fickleness and
mistakes.  We have come full circle.  Life is good.
   The End
   (C) Romany 2004-2007.  Protected by copyright law.  Please do not copy,
edit, amend or post this on any website without the author's permission. 
Also by Romany: `Full Circle 2: Cheryl and Elise'.
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/
   
  
Full Circle.3_Elise and Julie