It was Always a Joke

Again I need to thank blackrandl1958 for her editing and encouragement.

It was a joke. It was always a joke. A fucking joke. For the 17 years we were together, including 15 years married, it was a joke. Hell, many of our friends knew it was a joke.

"You know one of these days, I'm going to grab one of these guys off the dance floor and take him home," Traci would say to me on nights we would go dancing.

I hated dancing. She knew that. All of our friends knew that. Yet at least once a month, our group of eight to 10 would wind up at a dance club. I would go out on the floor for two dances, then head back to our table. My wife would then spend much of the rest of the night on the floor dancing with the other four guys in our group, other women and yes, with my approval, other men from outside our group. As long as the other men were respectful and no one guy dominated her dance card, I had no problem with her dancing with other men.

Although... I felt lately she had been ramping up the contact. She seemed to be letting her partners get a little freer with their hands, and I thought she was tweaking me by dancing a little closer to her partners. I mentioned it several times over a few months, but she and her friends would smirk at me like it was some sort of game.

"You know one of these days, I'm going to grab one of these guys off the dance floor and take him home," she'd repeat, sometimes winking at me while I'd shake my head in aggravation.

She'd turn me inside out sometimes with that shit, but I completely trusted Traci. She was my other half, my wife, my lover, my soul mate, the mother of my two kids. At 39 and still a head-turner, she could be a flirt, for sure. But ultimately, before we made our vows, we had agreed that we were all in on fidelity.

Until, apparently, she wasn't.

******

The meal at Mario's, as usual, was very good. All five couples were in attendance. We skipped the desserts and headed over to Givenchy, a fairly high-end bar/dance club that catered to a crowd that was probably in the range of 30 to 50. We had been there several times in the past and always had a good time.

We got a large round table in a corner of the club and we all ordered drinks. The conversation was flowing for a while until the live band started up at about 9 PM. At that point, all the women in our group rose en masse, which meant we guys had to get up and follow them to the dance floor.

I stumbled through my usual two dances. I had to admit Traci looked fantastic in her short, low-cut club dress as she bounced around on the floor. I knew I was a lucky man. As the second song ended, Bob, one of the guys in our group, slid a few feet over to where Traci and I were dancing and gave my shoulder a small shove, effectively giving him my spot in front of my wife. We both chuckled as the next song started and I turned back toward our table.

It was a pretty normal night, with the women all coming and going from the table to dance with various people, including their husbands occasionally, throughout the evening. The women wouldn't always come back to the table before dancing with a new partner, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but what was out of the ordinary was the fact that my wife hadn't been back for at least a half-hour, and at first glance I couldn't find her on the crowded floor.

In the five years or so we had been going out together as a group, there had been only a handful of times where some overzealous patron needed to be "advised" that he was crossing the line with one of our women. Usually, the husband of the woman did the advising, although we were usually all on alert in case someone was to get out of hand.

Dave Allen was the only other guy at our table, so I leaned over to him and told him I needed to find Traci. I shook my head when he asked if I'd like company walking around.

I found my wife and her dance partner within five minutes, because the first place I headed was to the far end of the dance floor from where our table was. A slow song was playing, and the two were wrapped around each other... like a pair of lovers. I had never before seen my wife dancing that close to another man, and my immediate reaction was rage, which was probably not my smartest move considering this guy looked to be a Norse god. He had to be 6-4, 250 pounds of blonde sculpture pretending to be human.

Reacting without thinking, I walked straight up to the couple and grabbed his arm, telling him to let go of my wife. He also reacted without thinking, shoving my 6-foot, 180-pound frame hard into the couple next to me. I bounced off the guy next to me before being slammed to the floor by a huge white fist to my face.

Two minutes later, we were both surrounded by other people, a bouncer and a manager. Someone was holding a towel filled with ice to my swollen, painful left cheekbone.

"Big bastard had his hands all over my wife," I grumbled to the manager when he asked me what happened. "I don't care if this guy is soccer star Erling Haaland on steroids, that can't happen."

The manager, Erik, knew our group because we were there occasionally. I could tell he felt bad about the incident, and offered to comp drinks for our table. I thanked him but turned down the drink offer for Traci and myself because we were going home to have what I was sure was going to be a very deep discussion.

I went back to our table and said good-night to our friends, all of whom looked shaken up. I nodded to Traci, pointed toward the door and followed her outside.

I waited until we were driving home before I started in on my wife.

"What the fuck was that all about, Traci?" I screamed. "You two were practically fucking on the dance floor, he had his hand squarely on your ass and it looked like you were jacking his dick through his pants! Would you have fucked him in the bathroom if I had gotten there five minutes later?"

"I've been telling you forever I was going to take one of these guys home someday because you wouldn't dance with me," she said in a tone I took to be as serious as a heart attack.

"That's been a joke forever, Traci. Everybody knows it's just a joke. You know damn good and well I would never let you carry that out," I snarled.

"What if I finally decided I didn't want it to be a joke anymore? What if I finally decided I wanted it to be real?" she asked.

That was one way to get me to shut up. I never saw that coming. We drove the rest of the way home in complete silence.

Our kids, who sit up and stream movies while we go out, were surprised to see us walk in the door at just about straight up midnight, with neither one of us looking happy with the evening. They took the hint, said their good-nights and headed up to their rooms after first asking me how I bruised my face. Needless to say, I didn't answer the question of the bruise.

Twenty minutes later, both of us were dressed in casual clothes and seated in our family room, the room farthest from the kids' rooms upstairs.

"What's going on in your mind, Traci? Where did tonight come from?" I asked quietly.

She wrung her hands and pursed her lips. She looked to my left, then to my right, but never directly at me.

"Josh, you do remember I'm going to turn 40 in just a few months? I'm not getting any younger, and I know things are going to start going south pretty soon. Right now, I can still make almost any man hard just by smiling at them. I just want to take advantage of my wow power one more time before I grow old. You know I haven't had sex with anyone else since we started dating. This wouldn't be anything more than something physical. Pure lust, no love involved, no emotional connection."

I suddenly realized my balls were aching like somebody had kicked me.

"So you would have taken that big boy home with you, or gone to his place, if I hadn't interrupted you?" I said hesitantly.

She colored instantly.

"That big boy... really is a big boy," she said. "If I'm going to do something, don't you think I should make it count?

"We weren't virgins when we started going out. Why would this be any different?"

The light above my head finally lit up.

"You're... you're serious about doing this. Oh shit," I said in little more than a whisper.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, babe. I want this..."

"But we're married. You just can't fuck another man," I said tersely.

She looked at me as if I was a slow child. She could tell I was having a problem processing what she was trying to impart.

"Yes, I can," she said confidently. "With or without your permission, but honestly, I think we'd both feel better if you gave me permission."

"But we made vows to each other. We've talked about what fidelity means to both of us," I said.

"It's our marriage, babe. We can change the rules if we want," she said.

"But I don't want to change the rules. You're the one changing the rules," I whined.

I was both shocked and saddened by this night's turn of events. I never saw this coming. What the hell was going on, I wondered. I got up from my La-Z-Boy and staggered up the stairs to bed. If she wanted to change the rules on our marriage, she could stay up a few extra minutes to close up the house for the night.

Like a lot of men, I tried to deal with my marital problem by pretending it didn't exist. That worked until the next Tuesday evening, when Traci and I were alone in the family room after the kids went up to bed.

"So... do you want to do something with the kids Friday night or should I ship them over to Mom and Dad's for the entire weekend? You know my parents still love to have them come over... and I'm sure that would make things a lot easier on you," Traci said.

"You're dead serious about cucking me with another man, then?" I rasped, unable to fully get volume out of my voice. "How could you do that to me? I thought you loved me. Making me a cuckold with another man certainly doesn't say love to me."

"I do love you, and you know it," she practically barked back at me. "The cuckold thing adds a little excitement to the mix, but it's not about that. It's about me getting something that I need... that is separate from us. If you don't let it get to you, it won't affect us too much. Nobody else has to know what happens in our marriage..."

"Nobody else has to know? You were hardly being discreet Friday night. How many people know about your plans?"

She looked guilty for the first time since she brought this up several days ago.

"Okay, I got carried away at the club the other day. Sorry about that. But this is going to happen, Josh, and it won't make a difference in our marriage."

"I don't agree with you, Traci. I don't want this to happen. I don't want to share you, but you seem set on doing something that I don't want you to do. What if I can't handle this... and I decide to divorce you?" I said.

Shock registered upon her face.

"You... you would divorce me?" she mumbled, suddenly not so sure of herself. "But we love each other. This won't matter in the long run."

"It might not matter to you in the long run, but it's going to matter to me every day," I responded. "I will think about not being enough for you. I will think about you having sex with another man every day, especially every time I think about making love to you. I will wonder if he was better. I will wonder if you are thinking about me or him when we are making love.

"We made vows to each other. I took those seriously. Up until a few days ago, I thought you did, too," I said.

"I did. I do," she said. "Just try to see this from my standpoint..."

"How about you try seeing this from my standpoint, since I'm not the one who's going to cheat. I love you, but I can't do this. You know I'm telling the truth. You might make me a cuck, but I'm not going there willingly. I guess if you don't love me enough not to do this, then I don't love you enough not to file for divorce. So I don't want to hear the wailing when I do exactly what I tell you I'm going to do. This is on you," I said.

"So... I'm assuming you're going to be with that big bastard from the club the other night?" I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting her to say it out loud.

She colored a bit and looked away from me before clearing her throat.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"So not only do you plan to cuck me, but you're going to do it with a guy who punched me because I told him to take his hands off my wife in public. Yeah. Discreet. Subtle. Count on divorce papers soon."

I heard her growl as she got up and headed up the stairs to our bedroom.

The game plan for Friday night was for Traci to drop the kids off at her parents and then come back to the house so she could change for her date. I was going to bring home a pizza for myself and I had the fridge stocked with cold beer. Obviously, I was unsuccessful at getting her to change her mind about her date.

There's nothing quite as crushing as walking into your home after a hard day at work and hearing your wife happily humming as she gets ready to go on a date with another man. Fuck. I didn't bother to call out a greeting. I set my pizza box down on top of the stove, plated three pieces, grabbed a cold Corona Light and headed for my La-Z-Boy.

I was just about done with my third piece of pizza and first beer when Traci glided down our stairs looking absolutely beautiful in a short, tight blue dress that I had never seen before. The fact that she bought a new dress for another man pissed me off even more than I already was.

"Don't you dare spin for me, Traci. I'll rip that rag right off your body," I grumped at my wife, who quickly dropped her smile.

She tried to make some small talk with me while I grabbed off three more slices and another beer. I know she was fishing for a compliment about how she looked. Frustrated, she finally asked.

"Do you really think I care how you're dressed for another man?" I bitched. "You're killing me here. And, no, I'm not going to tell you to enjoy your evening. If anything, I hope your date falls down and breaks a leg.

"You know, there's still time for you to change your mind and stay here with me."

She grimaced, like what I had suggested was painful to her.

"Stop, Josh. This won't hurt us. Trust me," she said.

"It already has, babe. I'm really going to miss you when we divorce."

She rolled her eyes, then reached out like she expected me to give her a hug before she left. It was my turn to roll my eyes.

Never in my life did I expect to be sitting at home on a Friday night while my wife was actually on a date with another man. NEVER. The longer I sat there, ostensibly watching TV, the angrier I got. I pulled out my computer and started doing all the financial things that divorcing people do, like splitting finances and paying off credit cards and closing accounts.

Traci quietly walked in the door a few minutes after 12:30, looking every bit the worse for wear after being out for more than five hours. Her hair was a mess, her make-up was gone, her dress was rumpled, her face was crimson and yet she was... glowing. Fuck. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of asking how her evening went, but I didn't need to ask as it would have been obvious even to a blind man. Fuck again.

"So did you wait up specifically for me, Dad?" she joked as she walked into the family room where I was ensconced in my La-Z-Boy.

"Not specifically. Had some stuff to do on the computer, then started watching 'Rollerball.' You know I love that movie," I said.

"Yes, I know," she said. "I'm kinda tired. How about we head upstairs... and I can show you that tonight didn't hurt us at all."

"Ew."

I know I flinched involuntarily.

"Umm. No thanks, babe. I'll never be desperate enough to take somebody's sloppy seconds," I asserted.

That, she understood. She tried to glare through me.

"Fuck you, Joshua."

With the kids at her parents' house for the weekend, we were alone Saturday, and I could tell she really wanted to talk. Call me petty, but every time she sat down close enough to me to talk, I got up and went somewhere else. After the fourth time I did it, she got the hint and actually asked me if we could talk.

"What's there to talk about, Traci? I assume the big guy fucked you at least twice with his big dick, you sucked his cock at least once and the whole evening was probably the best sex of your life. That about it?" I asked.

I must have been on the money because she flamed bright red and just sort of moved her lips with no sound coming out for about a minute.

"But it doesn't have to ruin us, Joshua. I still love you every bit as much as I did before last night," she reported.

"Well, at least that makes one of us," I said. "Your stock with me has been dropping like a rock from the minute you walked out the door last night."

"Look at me, Joshua. Really look at me," she commanded. "Have I changed since last night? If you didn't know I went out with another man, you wouldn't be able to tell. Nothing has changed for me..."

"Physically, maybe, but much has changed mentally, and emotionally," I interjected. "You stepped outside of the boundaries of our marriage so you could experience sex with another man... by your own admission a bigger man, with a bigger dick... who apparently is also a better man. You set aside our 15-year marital commitment for a night of lust. You literally showed me that your lust... your desire... was worth more to you than your commitment to me... and yet you say you haven't changed.

"Did you lay with him afterward, feeling your soul connected to his... or did you lay with him afterward feeling your pussy yearning to be stuffed full of his big dick again? Did you think of me at home... alone and betrayed... or was your brain just so consumed with him and his magic dick?"

Sometimes what is not said tells a more accurate story than spoken words.

She disgustedly blew out a breath.

"You would blow up our family rather than working through this? I always thought you were a better man than that," Traci said.

"You no longer get to be the judge of what makes a good man... or a good woman for that matter, Traci. You opted out of that role last night when you made me inconsequential as your other half."

"I-I didn't make you inconsequential. It wasn't love. It was just a chance to enjoy some unfettered lust before I get too old. You have to see that it doesn't have any effect upon us... unless you let it," she said.

"I don't feel I'll ever be able to trust you again," I said. "Whenever you're out and about running errands, whenever you're supposed to be out with the girls... hell, if you're 10 minutes late home from work... my first thought will be to wonder if you're having sex with your big boy... or someone else for that matter, because of some new reason you've just cooked up.

"I trusted you completely, but now that you've shown me you don't warrant my trust unequivocally..."

"When did you become such a paranoid old man?" she spit at me.

"I think my watch said it was 7:03 when you left the house last night," I jibed back, absolutely no trace of a joke in my voice.

We picked up the kids together Sunday afternoon. Nothing was said in front of my in-laws, but I could tell by my mother-in-law's face that she suspected something. The woman is, after all, part bloodhound and part pit bull. I watched as she took Traci by the arm and led her upstairs to the in-laws' bedroom, I assumed. The two were gone for about 10 minutes, and when they came back downstairs Traci looked like her mother had schooled her hard.

Thank God the kids chattered the whole way home or it would have been a quiet ride.

Either Traci's discussion with her mother made her think, or she was finally coming back to reality, but as soon as the kids were in bed Traci gave me the hard sell about us trying to salvage our marriage.

"I love you, Josh. Surely there's some way that you can regain your trust in me," she said. "I know you're mad now, but in a few days when you calm down and think about this, you'll see that it doesn't have to affect our future together."

"We had this discussion before you left. I warned you then that there was no going back," I said.

"I fucked up, Josh. I made a huge mistake. Surely you can forgive one mistake. I'm sorry," she cried.

"This wasn't a mistake, Traci. You did what you wanted to do, even though I explained why I felt you shouldn't do it. I told you about the consequences. Some things you just can't make better by saying you're sorry."

Since Traci wasn't exactly subtle in the dance club the week before, I didn't see any reason to be any more subtle when I had her served at her office on Tuesday. I didn't have to look to see who was calling when my cell rang five minutes after I got notification of her service.

"Hello, Traci," I answered breezily when I picked up.

"Was it necessary to have me served at my office?" she sniffled. "A little discretion would have been nice."

"The way you showed me discretion at the club the week previously? Get real, Traci. You reap what you sow," I said.

Obviously, I got that one at Clichés R Us.

I was going to tell the kids about the divorce that night, but a tearful Traci talked me out of it. We went back and forth about when to tell the kids about what was going on. Actually, she wanted me not to tell the kids at all, reasoning that she could talk me out of the divorce and therefore the kids didn't need to know.

That strategy was blown to bits when the kids came home from school two days later, mad at both Traci and me for not telling them about the divorce. Seems that a junior high school is not exactly the place to keep a secret.

"How come we were the last two to know about the divorce? God, that was really embarrassing," our daughter, Kate stated, when we gathered around the kitchen table for a family discussion.

I tried to glare a hole into my wife. I hadn't told anybody except for my attorney. Traci, on the other hand, had told all the wives of our five-couple group. I suppose that was somewhat natural because they were all with us the night things fell apart.

The other couples all had children, so it was no surprise to me that word of my divorce was all over the school.

"I-I'm sorry, guys, I guess that's on me," Traci answered hesitantly. "I asked Dad not to tell you two, not thinking that our friends' kids would have spread the word, before we had a chance to talk about this like a family.

"I'm still trying to talk your dad into stopping this stupidity."

"Umm... which stupidity are we talking about here?" our son, Bryan, asked. "Obviously, one of you cheated on the other one of you. So which one of you is a slut?"

Kate did a poor job of trying to suppress a grin, while Traci sat at the table studying the grain of the wood. I guess it was up to me to tell the truth. I could see Traci was uncomfortable with the truth, but there was not much she could say under the harsh glare of our kids.

"You... you... you cheated on Dad... with another man... because you didn't want to feel old? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You're no better than Marcy the school slut," Kate told her mother.

"I am not a slut! It was just one time!" Traci cried.

"You told me once was enough to be a slut. Remember that?" Kate asked, smoke practically coming out of her ears.

Traci's face colored but she held her tongue. It's not every day you get called a slut by your 13-year-old daughter... and she's right.

"Can Kate and I live with you, Dad?" Bryan asked.

After talking with my attorney, I was pretty resigned to the kids being given to Traci. I wasn't going to rip the family apart, but now that the kids expressed a desire to stay with me, that changed my thoughts.

"If that's what you two want, I don't see why not," I answered as Traci's head came up from the table.

"Y-you would do that to me?" she asked.

Because the kids were going to be 14 and 13 by the time the divorce was final, the judge actually listened to their requests, and I not only got the kids primarily, I got to keep the house until Bryan would leave for college.

Being the primary caregiver would have slowed my dating life way down if I was actually looking to date women, but I wasn't rushing into any new relationships. I would have gone all in on the fact that Traci and I would have gone the distance... and I would have lost my ass. I was going to enjoy my single dad status for a while and slowly--glacially slowly, in fact--get back into dating.

That strategy, however, ran counter to what my daughter figured. She kept pushing me to date... and date a lot. I knew something was up when she tried to set me up on a date with Marcy the slut's divorced mother.

"Why the rush, Kate? What am I missing?" I asked.

"Mom's got that big handsome boyfriend, and you've got no one. It makes you look pathetic, Dad. I don't want anyone to think you're pathetic," she gasped out.

I had to chuckle at the worries of a 14-year-old. I did find it interesting, however, that she seemed to know that Traci had gone back to dating her homewrecker boyfriend.

I dated a few women from time to time to keep Kate happy, as much as anything. I didn't date Marcy the slut's mom, but I did find out she was actually a pretty woman whose abusive husband had bailed on her several years back. It seems that Marcy's behavior with boys wasn't learned from her mother. That was good to learn, just in case...

The kids were spending the weekend with their mother, so I chose to hit a favorite small bar on a Friday night for a meal and a couple of drinks to unwind from my week. I was drinking a shot of Woodford Reserve bourbon neat while waiting on my food to arrive when she walked in, looking for all the world like a lithe jungle cat seeking out a weakened animal for its next prey.

Her intense blue eyes scanned the entire bar before she strutted toward me at the bar, her large breasts jiggling nicely under the silk of her blue blouse. I know I inhaled deeply when she sat down in the seat next to me, taking in a good lungful of tasteful perfume. God, I would have loved to have said something clever; instead, I just averted my eyes and concentrated on my bourbon.

"Wow. You really suck at the flirting thing, don't you?" she asked quietly as she sat down and gracefully crossed one leg over the other in a tight pencil skirt that rode up to mid-thigh.

I confirmed that with my brilliant answer of, "Ummm." I was at least proud of myself for not drooling on the bar top.

"What are we drinking tonight, Slick?" she asked me as the bartender approached.

I had enough presence of mind to croak out my answer and tell the bartender to put her drink on my tab.

She thanked me and took a subtle glance at my left hand. I noticed that her left hand was as bare as mine.

"Well-dressed, handsome, fit and alone. You're a single dad who's alone for the weekend, aren't you, Slick? That's why you don't have any good lines, right?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "Guilty as charged."

We spent the next 10 minutes talking about the rise and fall of my marriage... well, I mostly talked and she mostly listened and then commented. I was amazed at how quickly she picked up on my situation.

"Are you some kind of a travelling psychologist, or a marriage counselor?" I asked.

"Close. I'm an interior decorator," she said and giggled.

I raised an eyebrow. She giggled again before explaining herself.

"You told me you got your house in the divorce. I'm betting that your then-wife decorated every room in the house, with the exception of your rec-room basement if you have one, and all you said was 'Yes, dear.' I'm also betting that she chose at least one of your cars, maybe both. When you guys got to loggerheads about anything, you gave her the deciding vote, right?"

I nodded silently while I chewed my steak.

"That's why she thought you would let her have her one-off with her guy. You two talked it to death. You told her you wouldn't put up with it. But every time you said no, she said yes. So in her mind, you guys were at an impasse, which in her mind meant that she had the deciding vote."

"Huh. I never looked at it like that, but in the cold light of day, that makes perfect sense. It wasn't just a selfish request: she took it as a done deal. It was going to happen no matter what. I thought we had an equal partnership, but I didn't realize that she was the more equal partner."

By this point, I had bought Jade Taylor dinner and we were about to order dessert. Although this wasn't a date, it was still the best date I'd had since my divorce two years earlier. She smiled brightly when I told her that, and accepted my offer of a real date the next Friday night.

Jade was a force of nature... and accepted nothing less than my best when we were together. She talked to me constantly about being half of our relationship, not 30 percent or 40 percent. When I would try to slide by and let her make a unilateral decision, she would stop what we were doing and give me a "death look."

"That attitude didn't exactly work out too well for you the last time. Now I know I'm a better partner than your last one, but you have to stand up for yourself at all times. Challenge me... and I promise you we will be fantastic together," she explained.

We were fantastic together, whether we were on a date, just hanging around my house or in bed. We never... NEVER... had mediocre sex. Yes, sometimes we made soft and gentle love, but it was never mediocre. We absolutely connected. Then, when we were just fucking, hard and animalistic, it was "Katie bar the door." When we first got together, I held back a bit because of our size difference, but she quickly disabused me of that, screaming at me to give her "everything you've got, pussy," then raking my shoulders with her nails, drawing blood.

"Never... NEVER... hold back with me, Joshua!"

I never... NEVER... made that mistake again.

As I figured they would be, my kids were incredibly impressed with Jade when I introduced them. I know I grew huge in my daughter's eyes.

"Wow, Dad, where did you find her? Gorgeous, smart, fun and gorgeous. I didn't think you had it in you," Kate said, blushing when she realized what she had said aloud.

"Sorry, Dad, it's just that... she's great. But isn't she a little young for you?"

I knew sooner or later the age thing would come up, and we would have to address it head on, the way we addressed everything. I was 44 and Jade was 28. She was in the prime of her youth, and I knew sooner or later she would want to raise a family. I had raised mine, and despite the fact that she had me feeling 10 years younger, I knew I didn't want to raise a second family, having kids at home into my 60s.

Jade must have been thinking about it, too.

"You know we need to talk, Josh," she said one Saturday night after we chewed up the sheets a couple of times, once making love and once fucking each other into the mattress.

"I've been watching you watching me," she said. "We're at that juncture. You're considering asking me to marry you, but you're concerned because you know I want children someday.

"I've been asking myself the same thing, Joshua. You know I love you... but I do want a family of my own someday, and you've been honest with me about not wanting more kids.

"They say timing is everything, and ours just sucks in this case."

I pulled her into my body and kissed her passionately. I knew I would never find another woman quite like Jade.

Several months later I got a call from Kate on a Friday night when she and Bryan were staying with their mother. I was surprised when I looked at the caller ID because neither kid usually called when they were with Traci.

"What's up, kid? Did one of you forget something that I need to bring you?" I asked.

"Uhh... Dad... can you pick up Bryan and me at Methodist Hospital?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure Mom's not going to want us around this weekend."

"Yeah, I can pick you up. What's going on?" I queried.

"Umm... we were eating dinner when somebody rang the bell. We heard some yelling when Mom answered the door, and when we got there, Mom was on the ground with a bloody mouth and some woman standing over her, yelling. From what the strange woman told us, Mom's big, handsome guy is her boyfriend... and he was cheating on her with Mom... so she punched Mom's lights out.

"Mom's got a cut lip and the woman knocked out a front tooth. They're bringing in an oral surgeon to put her tooth back in."

"Aarrgghh! You've got to be kidding me! That's fu... that's just great," I growled into the phone.

"I'm sorry for messing up your weekend, Dad..." Kate started to say.

"Not your fault that your mom is a slut, Kate. Just remember someday not to make the same mistakes as her."

Jade and I were working on a slow exit plan when she asked me one evening if I remembered her boss, Maggie, whom I had met at her company's last two Christmas parties. It would have been tough to forget Maggie, honestly. She was about the same age as me, with shoulder-length auburn hair, bright green eyes and large, wide breasts that preceded her obviously into any room into which she walked. I supposed the extra-large breasts balanced out for the extra 20 pounds she carried on her frame.

I also remembered she was more than a bit of a wise-ass, although not near to the level of Jade. Then again, few were.

"What would you think about giving Mags a chance?" Jade asked. "I mean, if we can't stay together long-term, I think you two would be perfect for one another. She's smart, pretty... the best boss I've ever had. Hell, I wouldn't let her anywhere near you if you and I were thinking long-term."

"You think we'd have a chance? She didn't seem to want to get to know me too much at the Christmas parties..."

"That's because I threatened her bitch-ass to stay away from you. Sometimes you just can't be subtle with some people," she said.

Like me, Maggie had been married once before. Her husband of 16 years had decided that he wanted to be married to a younger woman, so the two had been divorced about four years previously.

I called Maggie and set up a date for the next Saturday night at a Greek restaurant. I know I grinned broadly when she answered her door Saturday night wearing a low-cut tight green sweater.

"Yeah... Jade said you'd like this top," she said brightly. "I got the feeling my girl really knows you."

It was easily the most surreal date I've ever been on. I think Jade told both of us all about the other, because it seemed like we had known each other forever. I also remembered everything I had learned from Jade, meaning I went into the date aggressively; prepared to hold up my end. Maggie certainly held up her end... and by the end of the date I got to hold up her end as well.

"Mmm... I like... a man... who's a gentleman... but still... not afraid... to handle... his business," she mumbled in between kisses at the door of her house.

I found out Maggie really enjoyed kissing... and having her large breasts played with. The latter was a great coincidence as I really enjoyed playing with large breasts.

"Did she wear the green sweater?" Jade asked when she called to find out how our date went. "Those boobs almost have a life of their own, don't they? I mean... not that I'd know."

She cackled cryptically but didn't say any more. I filed that away for future reference.

On our third date, Maggie wore a knee-length sundress braless with a sweater over the top. Even with an unbuttoned sweater over the top, it was easy to tell her breasts were unfettered as they undulated with every breath should took. I tried to be subtle as I watched her breathing, but I could tell by her soft smile I wasn't nearly as subtle as I thought I was.

"Since you're my date, you get to look all you want," she said as we ate. "Jade told me you are a boob man. Quite a coincidence, huh?"

We had sex for the first time that night. I wanted to bring her back to my place, but she insisted we go to hers.

"A woman likes to be loved where she's most comfortable, which for me is in my own bed. We can try your bed next week," she said softly.

Who was I to argue?

Maggie was no kid anymore, but she still looked like sex on a stick to me when I got her naked.

I pride myself on being creative, so I knew I needed to spend more time with Maggie's less obvious body parts, figuring that every man she had been with previously had focused on those large, wonderful boobs. After kissing passionately for several minutes, I reached out and licked her right collarbone, and her immediate reaction was to goosebump up and gently squeal. Perfect. I alternated between both collarbones and both sides of her neck for several minutes while she writhed on her bed underneath me.

I then licked down her body until I reached her belly button. I swirled my tongue around for several minutes before spearing inside as deep as I could go. She was cooing softly until I blew a raspberry--yup, like you do to a baby--and she exploded in the sexiest-sounding laughter I've ever heard. The rest, as they say, was history.

Her first orgasm came about a minute after I dragged my flattened tongue slowly over her opening and then blew a soft breath inside. After that I alternated between licking and sucking her G-spot and clitoris... and she alternated between screaming unintelligibly and screeching my name... until she bucked hard off the bed and tried her best to break my nose. I backed off for several seconds at that point and shook my head to clear it before being rejuvenated and almost literally diving back in with a growl.

I kind of lost count after her sixth spectacular orgasm, but I kept my wits about me enough to know when her body started to tire. At that point I slid myself back up her lush body and took two strokes to push my hard dick into her hot, slick pussy while she moaned in pleasure. We went at it hard and fast for about 20 minutes, and her final orgasm of the session took me over the top with her.

We lay entwined catching our breath for several minutes before either one of us spoke.

"Oh, Lord, how am I going to pay Jade back for this?" she inquired quietly. "It's one thing to borrow a pair of shoes. This is a whole different level of payback."

Eighteen months later, Jade was Maggie's maid of honor at our wedding.

Both of my children were as impressed with Maggie as they were with Jade. Kate couldn't believe that I found two hot women in a row to date, and that I was actually going to marry the second.

Apparently getting blasted by "Thor's" girlfriend had made Traci reflective in a way that my threats hadn't, not that I would ever have struck my ex-wife. According to Kate, she hadn't dated very much since the incident and the resulting dental surgery, and several times she had told my kids that she missed the life we used to have.

"Wow, Mom, why didn't you consider that when you had your slut attack," Kate said she responded. "It's like you ignored everything you and Dad had taught me and Bryan."

Maggie had a son, and between our three kids we wound up with five official grandchildren. We were also unofficial grandparents to Jade's two kids, and we babysat for Jade anytime she and her husband, Chas, needed a night out--after all, Maggie owed her big-time, she always said. I just smiled.

Traci eventually found herself another man, after dating what seemed like half the male population of our town. From what Kate said, every able-bodied man over 30 seemed to want to date her, but none seemed to want to stick around too long. Kate said she constantly reminded her mother to use protection so she wouldn't get pregnant or pick up a sexually transmitted disease.

"Don't embarrass me, Mom," Kate said she constantly reminded her.

I guess turnabout was fair play.

I figured sooner or later Traci would get remarried, but I had to admit I was surprised when I saw her choice. I figured it would be one of the big guys she seemed to prefer, but it wound up being a thin, short milquetoast-looking guy. Hey, if he made her happy...

I rarely talked to my ex-wife after the divorce, being just this side of rude when we were at family events like the weddings of our kids and Christmases. Traci eventually got the hint and stayed away from me.

Epilogue:

I heard from the local police about two years after Maggie and I got married. Seems that Traci's former large fucker ran into a shovel or something similar one night. Of course they wanted to know where I was the previous evening. I figured I was going to get hassled pretty good when I told them I was home alone, with nobody to vouch for me as Maggie was out somewhere with Jade. The two officers just shrugged their shoulders, mumbled their thanks and said they had to move on.

"Dumb bastard apparently made a hobby of cuckolding married guys," one of the cops explained. "You're number four on our list of a dozen. This is off-the-record, of course, but we're not going to cry if one of you guys doesn't confess. Stupid bastard got what he deserved, if you ask me."

Who was I to argue?