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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of stories. o
o  They have been submitted by people from all over the world.  Also from o
o  alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order to this     o
o  section of my collection,  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                                   o
o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to be typed o
o  therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's a lot more fun to  o
o  browse around and find 'little' surprises,  and topics that you might  o
o  not have even thought of looking for. I hope you enjoy your time among o
o  Kristen's book shelf directories.                                      o
o   	Lest we forget!!!  This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o  and should not be read by minors.  Thank you, Kristen Becker           o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Affair 2 Two and a half months later... (MF, cheat)
by Anonymous (rickr@jumpnet.com)
(c) 1997
 
**

July 1, 1994...Michael's 40th birthday.  He'd never been one to care, 
one way or another about which birthday it was.  It never really 
mattered to him...well, except maybe that 16th one when he was able to 
stand in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles and finally get that 
little rectangular piece of paper that gave him a certain amount of 
freedom.  Funny, he thought, what we end up doing with that freedom when 
we finally get it.   
 
It had been a long two and a half months.  When he had arrived home 
there was a mixture of rejoicing and accusation, much as when a child 
has been missing for many hours, the mother will smother him with tears 
and kisses, then tell him angrily if he ever does that again she will 
kill him.  
 
He had taken an additional week off from work at the time, hired a kid 
sitter and the two of them went off  for a week to the ocean beaches.  A 
mixture of relief and desperation haunted him, although by this time he 
had well learned the art of putting on a happy face.  Relief that he had 
done what he had to do, desperation because he knew it wasn't at all 
what he wanted.  They walked along the beach, flew kites, rented mopeds, 
made love, but in his mind he was never there with her...always with 
Sara.  But he knew how much he had hurt Sara and knew he would never 
have her again, so resigned himself to what he had. 
 
He woke as normal on his birthday, up before anyone, and went through 
his ritual by rote of showering, dressing and eating breakfast.  This 
was his quiet time, his alone time, his time to sort through the 
questions that came to him throughout his waking hours.  He walked into 
the bedroom, bent to kiss his wife good-bye and received the typical 
sleepy, "humph," in return.  Quietly he closed the bedroom door and 
left. 
 
His work started at 7:30 but he usually arrived a half an hour or so 
early.  Not through any particular dedication to the job, but because he 
preferred the quiet alone time that he could have unto himself whenever 
possible.  He would turn on the lights to the clinic, straighten things 
up if necessary and sit down to his desk. 
 
At 7:00 the phone rang.  Probably an early patient canceling already, he 
thought to himself.  He answers, giving the name of the clinic with a 
quick, "May I help you?" tacked onto the end. 
 
"Happy birthday," the shy, deliciously Southern accent said on the other 
end of the line, immediately bringing his heart to his throat. 
 
He hesitated, he knew for too long, but he literally couldn't speak.  
"Hello," he replied, not knowing what to expect. 
 
"I hope you're not angry, and I won't ever bother you, again, but I had 
to call you and wish you a happy birthday on your 40th...it is your 
40th, isn't it?" she asked. 
 
"Yes, it is..." he hesitated again, "thank you."  God why couldn't he 
say what he wanted to, but he knew why...he always got tongue tied when 
he had so many things he wanted to say, and in the end he said nothing 
at all. 
 
"I still love you, Michael," her soft response came back.   
 
"I love you, too, Sara," he replied without hesitation this time. 
 
"Well, I don't want to keep you, but I had to call you...don't ask me 
why, it was just something I was driven to do."  She quickly hung up the 
phone before the tears overtook her. 
 
Stunned would not have been a strong enough word to describe what 
Michael was feeling at that moment.  In a matter of a minute and a half, 
every emotion he had ever felt came flooding back into him.  Sitting at 
his desk, taking pen and paper in hand, he began to write... 
 
My darling Sara, 
 
I can't tell you how surprised and happy I am that you called today.  
You are the first person to wish me a happy birthday, and the only 
person I cared if I heard it from.  The last two months have been a 
nightmare for me.  Having you constantly on my mind yet never being able 
to hold you, tell you how desperately in love with you I am.  
 
I want you to know, there has not been a day, an hour since we parted 
that I haven't thought of you.  I want you, no, need you in my life, if 
even just from a distance such as we are now, but I also need you to 
know that this is all it can be for now.  I can't leave my family again, 
put them through what I put them through before.  I'm sorry, but this is 
how I was raised and I can't just make that all go away, as much as I 
tell myself that I can or as much as I want to be able to make it 
happen. 
 
I love you, with all my heart, and I always will.  I love you more than 
life itself and hope you can find it within yourself to understand and 
forgive me for the choices I felt I was forced to make.  Please write 
back to me. 
 
Forever, 
 
Michael 
 
His hands shaking, he addressed the envelope, to her work address, 
hoping she was still at the same place, stamped it and walked it down to 
the mailbox. 
 
The phone call came four days later.  Sara told Michael how she  had 
shook with fear and anticipation the day that the letter arrived.  How 
she had begun opening it six different times, but stopped each time for 
fear that he was writing an angry response to her call.  How finally she 
had found the courage to open it and had to close her office door so 
that her coworkers would not see the tears of joy that flooded from her 
eyes.  Sara also told Michael that she felt the same.  She couldn't 
stand not having him, somehow, in her life.  Just the hope of someday 
being together was better than the desperate ache of not having any 
contact at all. 
 
"I thought sure you didn't want anything at all to do with me when you 
didn't answer my letter," she said. 
 
"What letter?" he asked, yet again taken aback. 
 
"About a week or two after I got back, I sent a letter to your office," 
she said. 
 
"I never received it.  God, Sara, I would have responded in a heartbeat 
if I had," he replied, wondering what ever happened to that letter.  
Although deep down he was pretty sure he knew...his receptionist had 
been his wife's maid of honor at their wedding.  What else had never 
made it to his desk?  God only knew, but confronting the situation was 
out of the question for him, so he would be forced to let it pass. 
 
They exchanged new post office boxes and wrote again, sometimes several 
times a day, their love for each other growing yet stronger, even with, 
or perhaps because of, the distance between them. 
 
His wife was from Texas, and for the next month and a half they made 
plans for an extended road trip.  From Washington, across to Montana, 
down through Colorado (through Denver as it turned out) and finally into 
Texas to spend a week or so with her family.  His brother was in Texas, 
too, only about 30 miles from her family.  He told Sara of his plans, 
even sent her an itinerary of where they would be each day.  He also 
told her that he wasn't sure if he would be able to write during the 
trip, but asked that she remember that his thoughts would be constantly 
on her.  He wasn't exactly looking forward to the trip, other than the 
chance to see his brother again and stopping at the one place he had 
always wanted to visit, Tombstone, AZ.  He'd always been fascinated with 
that town, ever since being a little boy.  Sometimes he thought he had 
been born 100 years too late. 
 
The trip was relatively uneventful in the beginning.  The usual 
bickering of the kids during the long hours of the drive, although they 
had just bought a custom van complete with television and individual 
stereos installed for the boys.  They went to Six Flags, Wet and Wild, 
Fiesta Texas, anything the boys wanted to do, he did willingly.  He did 
his best to not get angry or upset with the petty things that happened, 
after all, they were just kids.   
 
As it turned out, he was able to send Sara a postcard from every place 
they visited, even picking up little trinkets to send to her from all 
the amusement parks they went to.  He would leave, under the pretense of 
going to the store for this or that and spend a few minutes writing a 
quick note to her, telling her how much he loved and desired her, 
describing all of the things he wanted to be doing to, for, with her and 
mailing it before going back to wherever they were staying.  In all, he 
sent some 30 mailings to her during the three weeks of the vacation. 
 
While in Texas, he and his brother were able to be off by themselves for 
the day.  They had bought a couple of six-packs and lay in the Guadalupe 
River, talking.  Michael had already decided he was going to tell his 
brother at least part of the story, but after a few beers, the entire 
saga flowed from him.  God, it felt good to be able to share all of this 
with someone.  Years ago, he would never have considered telling his 
brother any of this, but now they were extremely close and Michael knew 
his brother would keep his confidence.  His brother stared in wonder as 
the story unfolded, unable to believe his ears.  Michael had always been 
the straight laced one in the family, and the very idea that he had done 
what he had done, and indeed continued to do, was much more than his 
brother had ever expected.  Nonjudgemental, as Michael knew he would be, 
his brother offered the love and support that only a sibling can.   
 
It's amazing, what can finally precipitate a life changing decision.  
Something very trivial can be the 'straw that broke the camel's back'. 
 
Tombstone, August, 1994... 
 
He had finally arrived.  A place that was so full of historical 
significance that the entire town was an historical landmark.  He could 
almost feel the presence of the legendary Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday and 
Ike Clanton.  He could almost smell the residual of gunpowder assaulting 
his nostrils, even though he knew it was only his imagination. But the 
Gunfight at the OK Corral was a minor skirmish compared to the war that 
broke out between his family, and the carnage was nearly equal.  
 
Intolerable would just about have described his wife and stepsons.  From 
the time they arrived, the flood of how boring this place was, and that 
there was nothing to do, and why in the hell had he dragged them all the 
way out here besieged him.  Finally and for all time, he snapped.  The 
anger that had been within him over the last several months flowed 
forth.  He finally got the picture.  Awaiting him for the rest of his 
life was the prospect of doing whatever they wanted and all would be 
well, but try for one goddamned day to do something that for over 30 
years had been a dream of his and he would be bludgeoned for it.  
 
His anger didn't come out as violent, although he certainly told them in 
no uncertain terms that they were welcome to go back to the motel and do 
whatever the hell they wanted to...but his anger went inward and he had 
such clarity of vision, probably for the first time in his life.   
 
His letter to Sara that night... 
 
My Darling Sara, 
 
Today I had an epiphany.  I will not stay in this situation one minute 
longer than I have to.  After some long hard thinking I have finally 
made a decision that I should have made four months ago and I hope, my 
love, that it is not too late.  I am going to leave my family, once and 
for all and do whatever it takes to be with you.  Why should I put 
myself through the torment of staying with someone I can barely tolerate 
when I know there is the one person that I have ever truly loved waiting 
for me, reading this letter right now.  If plans work out as I have them 
in my head, I should be able to be with you, in your arms, making love 
with you by Halloween.  Please say you'll believe that I will never 
leave you again.  I know that's a lot to ask, and I wouldn't blame you 
if you just laughed and tore this letter up, but I give you my solemn 
promise that it will never happen again.  I know, now, that you are the 
only thing in life that I want and I can't stand the thought of being 
apart from you for any longer than it takes to settle things with "her".  
I love you more right this second than I ever have, and not nearly as 
much as I will tomorrow. 
 
Forever... 
 
Michael 
 
 
When Sara read the letter three days later, she was glad she was sitting 
down.  Finally, they would be together, two souls that both of them 
believed beyond any doubt had been put on this Earth so somehow find 
each other and have a life together.  They had both wasted the first 
half of their lives...they would spend the rest of their lives making up 
for that to one another. 
 
 
Ahhh, the sweet innocence of youth...even into the 40s.  There are two 
sayings that are appropriate at this point...The best laid plans of mice 
and men, oft times go awry...and that the Good Lord works in mysterious 
ways...Michael and Sara were soon to find out just exactly what those 
sayings meant... 

 
========================================================================

Author's note: This is not the end of the story...this is actually the 
4th - 8th month of a nearly three year relationship that, as of this 
writing, is still tenuously viable.  This is also a true narrative.  I 
would appreciate comments, either pro or con on the main character's 
choices and whether you are interested in how this relationship 
progresses. 
 
Comments can be emailed directly to: rickr@jumpnet.com 


