I ate most of my meals at a restaurant/bar near my apartment. It was a pleasant place with a corner bar that wrapped around the kitchen. One wing faced the lounge where some nights music was played by a DJ; the other wing faced the eating area where waitresses filled diners’ drink orders.
I liked to eat at one of the corner stools so I could people-watch either room, one of my regular pastimes.
Monday after Cassie’s return to S.F. I decided to have a couple of post-prandial drinks before going back to my empty rooms. I was on my second when I noticed a woman eating at a two-top.
She was attractive, probably a little younger than Cassie, and didn’t look very happy. I wondered why she was alone. When she finished her meal, she came to the bar, walking slightly wobbly, and sat near me.
After ordering a scotch, she turned to me and smiled, then the smile disappeared. I just nodded, but she started talking to me.
“I’m Helen.” I nodded again. “My husband died six months ago from pancreatic cancer. This is my first time out in public, on orders from my friends who think I need to get back on the horse. We used to come here often to dine and dance.” Her drink was placed in front of her.
“I’m sorry for you loss.” I hate that expression, but I didn’t know a better one.
She moved her drink over next to mine and sat facing me. “Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked.
“I do.” She was not Cassie pretty but attractive, still. She reminded me of the nice woman who took pity on me at our first swinging experience.
We talked for about thirty minutes, mostly her talking about her marriage and her husband, a prince among men. Then she suddenly asked, "Would you like to come home with me?”
I politely declined, thanked her and suggested that she Uber home, not drive. Then I got up and left.
Once again I was swamped with work. I tried to be so tired at the end of the day that sleep would come; it didn’t always. There were no missives from the West Coast contingent; they must be too busy playing house. I couldn’t bring myself to call Cassie.
I did call Frank who apologized for not giving me a heads-up about Cassie. He also offered to have me stay with him if I needed to when I returned. I didn’t commit to anything. He had no information about our wives' activities, but his last word to me was, “Find yourself a nice woman there in Boston and get laid. I know that I am.” How prophetic.
Both of my sons called to commiserate with me but did not share my anger at their mother, and that was my prevailing mood. So I just thanked them and let them go about their business.
I could not make sense of the events just past. Cassie and Jill already spent lots of time together with no complaint from me; they surely have an intense sexual relationship. Again, OK by me.
I wondered what role Frank had in things; had he liked Cassie too much? I know that she liked his equipment better than mine, but she loved me, and I was better at giving head. Did Jill catch him cheating? With who?
I decided that Jill was on some kind of angry man-hating power trip, forcing demands on Cassie to leave me. I decided that I would have to let things play out, but I was not going to be shoved out of my house or bedroom.
Wednesday night I was finishing a late dinner when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Helen, the woman from the other night.
“Hi Jim, I’m glad I ran into you. In fact, I was looking for you. I want to apologize for being drunk and maudlin last time. Can I buy you a drink?” She sat down.
“Sure. No apology needed. I understand your grief and sadness.”
The music started up, making it hard to hear each other, so Helen suggested we take a booth. Once we were settled she asked about my situation.
“What do you have to be sad about?”
I had nobody else to talk to about Cassie and me, so I let it all out to Helen, from our courtship through the details of last weekend. By the time I had finished we both were near tears.
Helen asked me to dance and we held each other other close through a couple of sets. This time when she invited me to her house, I almost went, but my puritanical conscience wouldn’t let me accept.
In the parking lot we did kiss before she drove away. Over the next few weeks, we had several dates, and several near misses which she took in good humor, saying she could wait. Our final parting, though, was tearful.
I had to stay in Boston for an extra week to wrap things up. That seemed both a blessing and a curse; I was sure that nothing good awaited me back home.
When I finally arrived at the house, Cassie was surprised and seemed alarmed. “Jimmy, where have you been? Your office told me you had to stay another week. I have been waiting for you to tell me when to pick you up at the airport.”
“Since you have been too busy to call me in the last three weeks I assumed that I had to arrange my own transport.” I can be as snarky as the best of them. “Where is that bitch you live with?”
“If you mean Jill, she is out house hunting.”
“Well, get her stuff out of my bedroom. You two may use the guest room, but I hope she is successful very soon. I don’t want her around.”
Cassie continued to look alarmed. “I thought you were going to stay with Frank until we moved.”
“You thought wrong; this is my house. I can’t kick you out but I don’t have to accommodate your lovers. I can make things very uncomfortable for you if you want.” She had obviously been in contact with Frank.
“Jimmy, come sit with me. I have missed you these last weeks and I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry for not calling you; I was afraid of another angry confrontation with you. Jill won’t come back until you say OK. She is staying with friends.” I sat, seething.
“I won't be saying OK. I’m at a loss about what to do; what did I do to deserve this.” I was becoming despondent with hurt and anger. She put her hand on mine to calm me.
“Darling, I’m so sorry about the way that this has come down. To have it happen when you were away and alone was cruel, and undeserved. You have done nothing wrong, I accept the entire responsibility, and now the two people who I love most in the world are angry with me and at each other.
“I wish we could turn back time and proceed with caring and love. I want you in my life. If I could, I would become a bigamist. I have loved you my entire adult life, and still do. But I have come to love Jill in the last few years too.
“That love nourishes me in a way that I have hoped for since I was a girl. I don’t really have words to make it sensible to you. Simply put, I believe that I’m gay.” She leaned her head on my chest.
“Well I have had plenty of time to reconcile with the situation, so here it is for me. I won’t fight her for you. Go with my blessing. But you may not have this house; I will force its sale and we can divide the proceeds. We can also divide our bank accounts if you haven’t already looted them.
“You had already separated from me before I went to Boston, so you are not entitled to my earnings or bonus for that work.” I was bluffing; I was sure she could impoverish me if she wanted to.
“I suggest that you and that bitch you are ‘in love’ with go live with Frank. Maybe he won’t mind sleeping in the basement.”
You could guess that by that time, Cassandra was not resting her head on my chest. She was pacing the room in anger or agony; I didn’t know which.
“That is very mean, not what I have come to expect from you, the father of my children, and my companion for thirty years.” I could only snort in derision at that.
“You try sitting around alone and impotent for three weeks after your wife tried to kick you out of your own home and ‘perfect’ marriage. I was not expecting that from you either.” I was getting good with air quotes.
“Does she have the key to this house?” I asked. Cassie nodded. I immediately called a locksmith and ordered new locks to be installed the next day.
“So, what do we do now?” she asked me.
“I will go change the sheets on my bed. They are no doubt soiled. I suggest you get the clothes that you need from ‘our’ closet and anything of hers, and sleep in the guest room.” I was on a roll.
“The bed is already made up in anticipation of your sleeping there, I had hoped with me.” She sounded dreadfully sad. “I have already made it very clear to Jill that I will not willingly separate from you. And in spite of this nastiness, that is still true; that is why Jill and I are not together right now. I am dreadfully sorry and ashamed about how we did this to you.”
“Well, this is your party, so what is it you think should happen?” To be frank, I would have liked nothing more than to lie down with her and fuck her, then hold her until we went to sleep.
“I would like to lower the temperature all around, and look for an amicable solution to our differences.” She started to look hopeful that I might relent.
“What differences do you and I have? Have I done something wrong? Cheated on you? Kept you chained to the stove? Prevented you from spending the bulk of your free time with that angry woman? What is my sin?”
Callie hung her head and whispered, “No, you have not sinned.”
“Then I suggest you go live with her, not in this comfortable home that you and I have made. Go find a place, share the work of making a home out of it, and see how that works. You may find it less enjoyable than you think now.
“Meanwhile I will make a new life for myself. You are not entitled to the luxury of having me and my home available to you at will. I am not your security blanket.
“Frankly, this woman seems to have somehow changed the self-assured, together woman I loved and married into a submissive, insecure mouse who doesn’t know what she wants.”
“Jim, you are right; I’m lost right now. Could you find it in your heart to sleep with me tonight? We don’t have to have sex, just to hold each other and wake up together."
Of course, I relented. We ordered pizza delivered and got slightly inebriated and went to bed. We didn’t have conventional sex; we snuggled with her head on my shoulder, my hand on her ass, and hers roaming over my abdomen and cock.
“Do you remember how I fixed your premature ejaculation problem?” she whispered. Without waiting for an answer, she ducked under the covers and took my hard cock in her mouth.
As I have always been, I was unable to resist her talented oral skills. She swallowed every drop, then I slept like a baby.
I woke in the morning to the aroma of bacon cooking. I had hoped to find her still beside me so I could demonstrate the many skills she had taught me when we were student lovers. Oh well, the best laid plans…
