Your Cheatin’ Heart

“YOUR CHEATIN’ HEART”

Your cheatin’ heart
Will make you weep
You’ll cry and cry
And try to sleep

But sleep won’t come
The whole night through
Your cheatin’ heart
Will tell on you

When tears come down
Like falling rain
You’ll toss around
And call my name

You’ll walk the floor
The way I do
Your cheatin’ heart
Will tell on you

Written and Performed by Hank Williams, Sr.

YOUR CHEATIN’ HEART

By

SENORLONGO

There seems to be an old saying to cover virtually every situation. In this case it’s “the husband is always the last to know.” Looking back I realized now that I should have seen the signs—the conversations at parties that stopped suddenly when I approached, the tittering behind my back, the knowing glances from our so-called friends, people turning away when I walked near. Why didn’t I see them? It’s simple—I trusted my wife and I couldn’t imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to cross me.

My name is Rocco Fabbri. My parents and I immigrated to the United States from Sicily where vendetta is the way of life. Sicilians always get even and we usually get even more. I’ve been known to completely destroy my adversaries. The second reason is that I’m one of the nation’s top criminal defense attorneys. I don’t care if my client if guilty or innocent. The system demands that all accused have an active and capable defense. I always give my client my best effort and that is almost always outstanding. I’ve defended some of the biggest scumbags and most ardent criminals known to man. I have dozens of contacts on the wrong side of the law and almost all owe me favors.

I’d had many discussions with my wife Jill from before we became engaged, as well as over the ten years we’d been married about the sanctity of marriage vows. I’d made it totally clear that adultery was a deal breaker for me and to date she’d always agreed. In spite of my unsavory clients I was a very religious man, attending early Mass almost every morning, maybe because of the slime I had to deal with on a daily basis.

It was through an accident—a series of seemingly unrelated events—that I first learned of Jill’s adultery. Eric Hoffman was a sophomore at one of our local universities. I would have been able to get his DUI arrest reduced to a misdemeanor, usually public intoxication, if not for the bags of crack and meth in his pocket when he was stopped. Now Eric was looking at hard time, even as a first-time offender.

Eric’s dad was Bernard Hoffman, a real estate magnate from upstate near Albany. We spoke on the phone several times, but he wanted a face-to-face. I didn’t mind; I was charging him $500 an hour. The meeting was set for Tuesday, the seventeenth. I was expecting him at 1:00, but he phoned at ten that morning. “Rocky (nobody calls me Rocco), listen…I got gout in my foot. I’m in agony and I can’t walk. Can we meet in my hotel room?”

“Of course, Bernard; I should be able to see you a bit after one if that’s okay.”

“Thanks, Rocky; I’m at the Marriott, room 502. I’ll see you whenever. I’m not going anywhere.” Returning to my work, I planned on leaving at noon in anticipation of grabbing a bite to eat at the Marriott’s fine restaurant. I had just driven into the Marriott’s lot when I saw Jill’s car. It’s hard to miss. She drives a new BMW 740 Li sedan with a special custom paint job. She just loved the old Jaguar XKE in what I would call lilac, but the company called Heather. Jaguar did the special paint job for $16,000. I thought it was money well spent at the time—a special gift for my special girl.

Parking near her car I hustled into the restaurant hoping to catch her so we could spend a few minutes together before my meeting. I know exactly what you’re thinking and you’re absolutely right—she wasn’t anywhere to be found—although, at the time I was firmly convinced of her fidelity. I wandered all through the restaurant and lobby, even asking at the front desk if they’d seen her. Jill tends to stand out. She’s tall at five-foot ten and slender with an athletic body and the firmest ass I’d ever encountered. Her jet black hair hung straight to her shoulders. I knew she’d be dressed appropriately for a high-end hotel in one of her designer outfits.

Jill was thirty to my forty-two. Lest you think I’m some slouch, I’m six-foot three and weigh 190 pounds, mostly muscle from many workouts at the gym. My full head of curly black hair is gray only at my temples. Jill has often told me it makes me look “distinguished.” I have brown eyes to Jill’s iridescent green. I’m clean shaven with short sideburns. Some people think I’m good looking, but I think I’m just “okay” unlike Jill who is drop dead gorgeous with a body to match. Like my wife, I’m always extremely well dressed. Today I’m wearing a $5,000 charcoal gray worsted wool suit from my personal tailor in Hong Kong and $2,000 tasseled black loafers to match my light gray silk shirt and mostly cranberry paisley tie.

By now, not having found my loving wife, I started to put two and two together and I didn’t like the answer I was seeing. I retreated to my car and moved it away from Jill’s. Fortunately, my Mercedes SL-400 Cabriolet is sleek and low, easily hidden behind an SUV or a panel truck. I moved about eight slots away and an aisle farther from the building where I could barely see Jill’s car, but my Canon DSLR and zoom lens could bring the driver’s side of her sedan up close.

I always keep a camera in my car and a compact in my briefcase to photograph my clients when they are taken into custody and sometimes after if I think they’ve been assaulted by some over eager cops or jailers. Using my cell phone I called Bernard to tell him I’d be late—something important had come up—but I’d definitely get to him later this afternoon.

Thinking that I might have a long wait I removed my jacket and laid it in the back then I opened my collar and took off my tie. My seat reclined and I hid my face under a baseball cap. It was almost two hours later that Jill finally appeared. Her clothes were a mess and her normally neat hair badly needed combing. My zoom lens picked up what I thought might be semen in her hair. She walked straight to her car with her lover, oblivious to anything and everything around her. Snapping photos in rapid succession I easily recognized the boyfriend. It was our neighbor Alex Hammond; he lived about five houses up the block from ours. After a quick grope and a slow kiss they were gone. I grabbed my jacket and briefcase and walked hurriedly to the lobby, hoping I’d get lucky.

Beth Samuels was an assistant manager here. I’m the reason her only son isn’t in prison for twenty to life. Encouraged by some of his idiot friends he and two others stuck up a gas station and killed the attendant two years ago. Martin had stayed in the car, but technically and legally he was just as responsible as the kid who’d pulled the trigger. They trio had gotten away with all of $43. Martin told his mother the following morning. He was terrified and claimed he didn’t know the others planned the robbery; he thought they were going to try buying beer. Beth called me. She knew me from Corpus Christi Church in Mineola where she was an active parishioner and I did some pro bono work with their outreach program. Long story short, he gave evidence against the others and received a slap on the wrist—five years in a minimum security facility, serving only twenty months, and ten years probation. The other two boys–both seventeen like Martin–got twenty to life in an environment where they were sure to be raped daily. I was pleased to see Beth behind the counter.

“Hi, Rocky—what brings you to the Marriott?”

“I have a meeting with a client. Did I just see Alex Hammond, the real estate guy, on my way in?”

“Sure…he’s here every Tuesday and Thursday for some meetings with his staff. He always uses the same room—217. It’s a suite with a couch and a few chairs and room for a few tables. His assistant is always with him.”

“Is she that tall woman with the black hair?”

“Yeah, that’s the one; boy, is she a looker, and what a wardrobe. I’m surprised she can afford it.”

“Beth, any idea how long they’ve been holding these meetings?”

“Sure…hold on,” she said as she checked her computer. “Okay, I remember now; he started just after the New Year—every Tuesday and Thursday for the past ten weeks.”

“Beth, can you give me a print-out? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She whispered, “I’m not supposed to, Rocky. I could get into trouble. He’s not doing anything illegal, is he?”

“I don’t think so, Beth, but it might help me to establish a pattern for him.”

“Oh!” We continued to speak while she typed on her console. She reached down to pull several pages from the printer. Folding them and placing them into an envelope she handed it to me. “Here’s your itemized receipt, Sir. Please come back again.”

“I certainly will. The service here is great. Thank you.” Those remarks were directed to the fiftyish man I knew was her boss in the office doorway behind her. I was gone a second later walking toward the elevators. Bernard showed me into his room a few minutes later. He was hopping and sat with his foot elevated.

“You’d think gout is funny if you ever saw some of the old movies like ‘Captain Blood’ with Errol Flynn. Trust me, Rocky—it’s not. It’s just about the most painful
thing I’ve ever experienced. I’ll be on my ass for a week. Now, tell me about my idiot son.”

I spoke for about twenty minutes explaining the charges and the potential sentences. He was grateful that I’d requested his son be placed in a special section of the county jail where he’d be relatively safe and I reminded him about bail.

“No, Rocky…there will be no bail. He’s always been a kid who had to experience things for himself. I tried to warn him about the dangers of drugs and alcohol, among many other things, but he wouldn’t listen. If I told him to keep his hands off the stove he’d just have to try it to be sure. He can stay in the jail until the trial.”

“Suppose I could arrange for a plea bargain. I’m sure I can get the DUI settled if he voluntarily surrenders his license and, of course, if you took his car that would help, too. Is it registered in your name?” He nodded and we agreed on that course of action to start. Then I continued, “Leaving him in the jail could work to our advantage. It will be at least ninety days and probably more until the case comes before a judge. I won’t push for a speedy trial so I might be able to get him off with time served. I’ll speak with the DA tomorrow morning. Eric will have to perform community service and a lot of it, like five hundred hours. I’ll review everything with him tomorrow, too.” We spoke for another fifteen minutes before we discussed my bill.

“You’re paying my standard rate–$500 an hour plus expenses. If I had to guess I’d estimate this will cost you between forty and fifty, but it could be more or even less depending on how things go with the DA and also on how things go with your son. I’ll pitch probation and community service with the emphasis on community service and the expectation that he must follow through. If he shows enthusiasm things will go better. I know you’ve had trouble communicating with him in the past, but he’s never been in this kind of trouble before.”

“I’ll give you a check for twenty thousand now if that’s okay.” I nodded to indicate that it was. “I’ll see Eric tomorrow morning if at all possible. Want me to call you after?”

“Yes, it’s important that I know everything. Be sure to tell him not to lie to me or hide information. The more surprises I get the harder it will be for him.” He wrote the check, we shook hands, and I left. Once in the parking lot I used my cell to phone the private investigator the firm uses, asking him to meet me in my office ASAP.

I was at my desk only a few minutes when he walked in, closed the door, and sat, his notebook open on the other side of my massive desk. “You really should turn this desk around. You’re missing the beautiful view.” This was how our conversations always began.

“If I did that you know I’d never get any work done…and speaking of work, I have a job for you. It’s personal, Pete so not a word to anyone other than me. I’ll pay you from my own pocket—cash so there’s no record.” One look at him told me he knew pretty much what I was going to say. “Here’s a printout of Alex Hammond’s room rentals at the Marriott. His business and home information are on the back page. He and his assistant go there every Tuesday and Thursday.”

He gave the printout a quick glance. “Let me guess—his assistant is a tall good-looking woman with straight black hair who dresses well.”

“Unfortunately…I’ll want everything you can get—photos, video if you can, audio…the whole shebang.”

“I’m truly sorry, Rocky. You’ll get it…everything you need. I will never understand why a woman would risk everything she has for some cheap sex. I see it every day, but I’ll never understand it.” He rose and turned, but spoke again before leaving. “You understand that I can’t do this personally. Your wife knows me so I’ll have my best people on this. I’ll see you in another week.” I grumbled something as he walked out the door.

+++++

One of my weaknesses, other than my wife and daughters, is country music. I can’t help it—I just love the stuff, especially the old-timers like Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, and Hank Williams, Sr. ! I was barely in my car on the way home where I was eagerly looking forward to seeing and hugging my two darling daughters Alicia, eight, and Sofia, six, but not my lying cheating spouse when I heard Hank belting out, “Your cheatin’ heart will make you weep, you’ll cry and cry and try to sleep. But sleep won’t come the whole night through. Your cheatin’ heart will tell on you.”

“How appropriate,” I thought as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. I work in Mineola in Nassau County, Long Island—it’s the county seat and home to the county courts–and I live in the upper class community of Centerport in neighboring Suffolk County. To give you an idea—the ultra wealthy Vanderbilts once had a huge estate there. We don’t have an estate, but we do have a big four-bedroom colonial on more than an acre. The land alone is worth more than a million and our property taxes are more than many on the island earn in an entire year. Fortunately, money isn’t a problem. Last year I earned almost 1.5 million on my billed hours alone and more than two million total.

My girls were watching TV when I walked into the house at six. That meant their homework was done to Jill’s satisfaction. It was a hard and fast rule—no TV until all schoolwork was completed. I got my hugs and kisses then walked into the kitchen to find Jill enjoying a glass of wine while something simmered on the stove. She walked to me, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. It had none of the emotion I’d seen earlier with Alex. “How was your day, honey?”

“Same old stuff…idiots doing idiotic things so I can charge them a fortune to save them from their own stupidity. Problem was I had this song stuck in my head all day—“Your Cheatin’ Heart,” you know by Hank Williams?” Jill almost choked on her wine. “Steve picked up two more divorce cases today—cheating again, both of them the wives. When will some people learn? Why do some women and some men, too, risk everything in their lives just for some sex? Can you explain that to me?”

Jill couldn’t maintain eye contact as she responded more into her wineglass than to me, ”No, (gulp) I really can’t.”

“Me neither; I guess some people have no morals.” I walked away even as I heard Jill choking again. Thirty minutes later we were holding hands around the dinner table as we said grace. We all took turns; tonight it was Jill’s turn. He voice cracked several times. I prayed the girls wouldn’t notice.

I was pretty sure now that Jill was aware that I knew–well, maybe not actual knowledge, but certainly that I had more than an inkling what was going on. My only question now was, what would she do about her affair? Would she end it? Could she?

You always hear that women cheat because their husband has a small cock and they need something bigger, something more satisfying. I wouldn’t say that mine was huge, but I was Sicilian. Small for a Sicilian is big for most other men. I knew that most porn stars were much bigger, but Alex definitely was not. I had invited him to play golf at the country club, something that was unlikely to ever be repeated. Dressing for dinner after a shower I could see that he was obviously much smaller than I was. I had never given it much thought, but now I was bothered even more.

I’ve always thought of myself as a considerate lover. I always wanted my wife to have an orgasm and she almost always had more than one unless she was an especially good actress. I had fairly good orgasm control that was probably going to improve now that I thought she was cheating on me. I would be less than enthusiastic fucking something that had been given to another. Jill and I had sex on a schedule. It was just easier that way, especially when I was in court and frustrated from my dealings with clients. We made love Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays at a minimum. Sometimes we fucked on Friday or Sunday, too. I couldn’t imagine why she felt the need to cheat.

We fucked on Wednesday night once the girls were in bed and asleep. It wasn’t my best effort and Jill obviously noticed. She started to say something then apparently changed her mind and went to sleep. I didn’t sleep well that night or any other until I met with Pete the following week. Then I doubted I’d ever be able to sleep again.

+++++

Thank God I had the Eric Hoffman case. Bernard had met him in the jail and, for once, Eric seemed to listen and pay attention. I met with Eric later in the day. We spoke for almost an hour. The guards tried to end it several times, but backed off when I threatened to have their jobs and sue the county, a suit I was certain to win. I scheduled a meeting with the DA handling the case the following Monday morning.

It was Friday morning when Pete silently placed two thick identical manila envelopes on my desk then sat and waited. I opened the first and looked at the photos. There were two sets—one from the wall at the foot of the bed and another with a side view. After looking at fifty shots I saw an additional set taken in the suite’s sitting room. There were also a set of photos from the parking lot.

Continuing my examination of the folder I found two DVD’s, one from last Thursday and the other from Tuesday. The final document was Pete’s itemized bill for $10,300. I rose and turned around to open my safe behind the portrait of my beautiful daughters. I felt so badly for them as I pulled three $5,000 stacks of hundreds from the safe, handing two and three individual notes to Pete before returning the partial stack to the safe. I broke the wrapper so I’d realize it wasn’t a complete stack. One envelope went into the safe, the other into my briefcase. I shook hands with Pete and he was just about to leave when I had another thought.

“Pete, I’ll have a long serious talk with Jill tonight.”

“Gonna show her the evidence?”

“Yeah, I will. I’m sure she’ll tell me it’s over, but she’s lied to me for almost three months so she may lie to me again. I’d like you to keep an eye on her at least through Monday and Tuesday. I won’t need any more photos, but I want to know if she goes to the Marriott and meets her asshole lover.” Pete told me he had it covered, but it would cost me another grand. I agreed and returned to my work.

I stopped off at the county jail on the way home to see Eric Hoffman. He was understandably nervous when he walked into the interview room, sitting after shaking my hand. “Er…Did the district attorney say anything about me.”

“Yeah, he did. He said he was surprised someone as stupid as you could actually get into college let alone hope to graduate. I have to tell you…I agree completely. If you had just half a gram more of meth you’d be looking at possession with intent to sell instead of simple possession. Get used to this place; you’ll be here for six months, at least, before we go to trial. The DA has agreed to accept a plea bargain. You’ll get off with time served, suspended license, and 400 hours of community service. That will have to be here in Nassau County. You’ll miss the start of the semester so I suggest you do it before the spring semester begins. I’ll have a list of places that will be happy to get your services. Two more things—he insisted that you participate in an intensive drug and alcohol counseling program. It will be five nights a week for ten weeks so you’ll be very busy, plus you’ll be on probation and that will include any disciplinary action at school. You’re lucky your dad will support you. A lot of parents I know couldn’t and wouldn’t. Remember that when you’re thinking how stupid and square your father and mother are.”

“Thank God; I was afraid I’d have to go to prison. Some of the guys here told me I’d get raped regularly.”

“Unfortunately, that’s probably true. I suggest you stay away from drugs, listen to your father’s advice, and make a concerted effort to complete your community service and counseling in a timely manner. Also, don’t fuck up while you’re on probation. They’ll have someone keeping track so don’t even think of cheating on it. If you do there won’t be anything I can do for you. It’ll be prison, for sure.” I shook his hand and ten minutes later I was in the car for the ride home. I made one more stop, taking the time to speak at length with a man I considered one of my best friends.

+++++

I usually take everyone out to eat on Friday night and, despite my numerous concerns, I would tonight, as well. I wanted everything to seem normal until my precious girls were in bed and I could confront my cheating spouse. I was barely in the house when I was surrounded by my daughters and wife. They were all yelling and jumping up and down about where they wanted to go. It would have been great if they agreed, but—no, not a chance. I stepped back and held up my hands. They knew it was time to stop. “Pizza; we can figure out what kind once we’re in the car. I want everyone to go to the bathroom before we leave.” Yes, it was business as usual—for now, anyway.

Everyone used the toilet, even me, and ten minutes after pulling my car into the driveway I was backing out to the road. En route they finally agreed—half sausage, half pepperoni. We joked and laughed our way through dinner and when we left the restaurant I could see our daughters slowing down. We’d take them home, give them showers, and I’d read to them before bed. They were hugged, kissed, and tucked in by nine.

Jill was fiddling around in the bedroom when I walked in. I spoke quietly, but firmly, “Go down to the kitchen and wait for me. Don’t argue. Just do it. I’m not in the mood for any of your shit. I’ll be down in a minute.” Jill looked at me as though I had lost my mind, but when I pointed to the door she just walked out. I changed out of my suit into a tee and shorts, stopping in my home office to remove the thick envelope from my briefcase.

Jill was seated at the table when I walked in and I could see she was pissed. That was about to change. “Why are you talking to me like that? I’m not one of your criminals, you know. I’m your wife. You’re scaring me.”

“Apparently not enough,” I said, disgust in my voice, as I dropped the envelope in front of her.

“What the hell is this?”

“Just tell me why and don’t give me any more of your lies…not if you want this family to survive.” Her eyes were the size of quarters in an instant, but she made no move to open the damning evidence before her. “What’s the matter, Jill? Don’t you want to see the evidence of your infidelity? Here, let me help you.” I ripped the clasp open and spilled the photos in front of her. They spread out across the table as the first tears formed in her eyes. “Once again…tell me why.” Sitting in the chair opposite I crossed my arms and waited. I’d say patiently, but I was anything but.

“I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t think you’d ever find out. You’re always so busy.”

“That’s right; I’m busy earning money so you can have a custom paint job on your luxury car and a dream house for our family and, don’t forget, where am I every second that I’m not working? Okay…I do spend an hour a few times a week at the gym, but I do that to keep myself healthy for you. So answer the question…why?”

When Jill spoke it was more a whisper than anything else. “Okay…the truth…I was vulnerable and he was charming and seductive. It started, of all places, at church. I was up there to drop off some cupcakes for the sale back in December. He was doing the same for Julie.” She paused to wipe her tears from her cheeks. “We talked for quite a while and he was very flattering, complimenting me on my clothes and hair and figure. Then he suggested we get coffee and I thought, ‘what the heck, it’s only coffee,’ but once we were in the car he got very aggressive with me, kissing and touching me and telling me how sexy I was. I love you Rocky, but you haven’t said things like that to me in a long time.” I realized, unfortunately, that was too true as Jill continued, “I was weak. I let him grab my breasts and finger my pussy. We never did get coffee. We spent an hour making out and groping each other. It was exciting, but I never loved him and I never will.”

“What have I told you about the sanctity of marriage vows? What have we discussed…agreed to?”

“I know…I’m so sorry. Do you want me to leave? Are you going to throw me out? Are you going to divorce me?”

Taking a deep breath I responded, “No… I’m not, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to completely trust you again. I might be able to understand once, but this has been going on for almost three months—twice a week of lying and cheating, not only me, but your daughters, too. You risked our family for some cheap sex. Judging from the reactions I’ve received from some of our friends I’m probably the only one who didn’t know what was going on. I suspect Alex has a big mouth. Okay…enough; I’ll never speak of this again after tonight, but you are never to see him again. We’ll probably have no choice if we’re invited to a party here in the neighborhood, but even then I don’t want you to speak with him—not even a simple ‘hello’.

“I’m just about done dealing with this so far as you are concerned, but I haven’t even begun to deal with him. Trust me…I will destroy this man…his business…his family…everything. This is now vendetta for me. I won’t rest until he is crushed. You know that I am Sicilian. Vendetta is our way of life. He will wish he was dead by the time I finish with him.” Looking down I could see the fear in her eyes. I’d seen this look before, but never in her; until now I’d seen it only in court or in the County Jail.

Of course, I personally would do nothing other than send my other envelope to his wife, Julie. However, I’d call in a favor from one of my mob contacts. I knew just what I wanted done and I knew just who would do it for me. Holding out my hand I pulled Jill to me until her tits pressed into my chest. I could feel her crying as her gasps for breath wracked her slender frame. We stood there in the kitchen for ten minutes, at least, before I released her and returned the evidence of her sin to the envelope.

“Let’s go upstairs. I need to reclaim my property.”

Jill looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy. “Thank you, Rocky.”

“Don’t thank me; I plan on using you brutally.”

“That’s okay; I need to do penance. I’ve been stupid and bad. I committed sins. I need to be punished.”

“You will be. I’m planning on taking your ass tonight. Afterwards you will text him and tell him it’s over. Don’t tell him that I know. Make it short and to the point, but make sure he knows you never want to see him again. Be sure to delete his number from your phone. That will be a good start.” I extended my hand; she took it and she followed me up the stairs, stopping only in my office to place the envelope into my safe. Our daughters were extremely curious and I’d never want them to discover that their beloved mom had behaved like a slut.

Jill stood still in our bedroom while I undressed her. Once she was naked I dropped my clothes to the floor and reached out to cup her sex. “I think we should have this hair removed and then add a small discreet tattoo—“Rocky’s” with an arrow pointing down. What do you think?”

She looked down, still crying before answering me. “Um…okay…if you think so.”

“No, I don’t think so. You know I don’t like tattoos and I told you I wouldn’t punish you after tonight. Just make sure you understand—there will be no second chances here. The only reasons you’re getting this one are—one—I accept a small part of the blame; I should have been more attentive and complimenting, and—two—we have two little girls who deserve to have an intact family. Let’s get into the shower.”

Jill followed behind me and I turned into her once I had turned the shower on. I brought her lips to mine. She melted into me, her body pressing against mine. Jill and I had few disagreements over the years we’d been together, but the biggest one was about her body. I thought it was perfect—slender with long legs that seemed to go on forever and a space between her legs that I just loved. Her breasts were small, maybe a B-cup at most, but because of their size they didn’t sag at all even after two children. Jill, however, lacked self-confidence when it came to her body. She’d wanted breast implants for years, but I’d always refused. I suspect her insecurity was one of the reasons she had fallen for that asshole’s bullshit.

Breaking the kiss I whispered, “God, you’re beautiful.”

“No, Rocky—we both know I’m not.”

Now I was angry. Gripping her chin tightly I stared straight into her eyes. “YES…YOU…ARE! DO YOU THINK THAT HORNY MEN WANT AFFAIRS WITH WOMEN WHO ARE UGLY OR WHO HAVE LOUSY BODIES?” I released her chin and caressed her cheek gently and lovingly. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You are flawless like a clear unblemished diamond. You’re beautiful and sexy and desirable. I’d fight anyone for you. I’d even kill to keep you.” I shut up then and kissed her fiercely, driving my tongue down her throat as I hugged her with all my strength. Still in the kiss I pulled her with me under the spray, my rock hard cock pressed between our bodies. My hands roamed from Jill’s shoulders to her ass then back up to her breasts to tease her hardening nipples.

Jill broke the kiss and, while maintaining eye contact the entire time, sunk to her knees to take my swollen organ into her mouth. Up and down she slowly bobbed pausing only to lick teasingly around my helmet, driving me crazy with lust even as the water ran down the strands of her hair and over her face. Pulling her up I decided we were clean enough, turned off the shower and dried her delectable body. I was about to dry her hair, but Jill told me, “That can wait; I can’t. Dear God, but I need you terribly. I realize now that it’s you I’ve always needed. There’s no way I can ever explain how sorry I am for hurting you. I’m so ashamed.”

My finger to her lips silenced her as I led her to our bed. Thank God she had never brought him here. That would have been intolerable and unforgiveable. We pulled down the blanket and sheet and I gently placed Jill in the center of the bed. Once there I kissed her again, a long lingering kiss in which we swapped saliva as our tongues dueled back and forth in our mouths.

Breaking the kiss I moved to kiss and lick her neck, her shoulders, and each of her breasts, areolas, and nipples before teasingly making my way down to her belly. She always laughed when I licked her navel and tonight was no exception. I felt good then, better than I had all week, making her laugh. Hopefully, we’d be able to laugh together once this mess was finally resolved.

Of course, I was headed for her cunt, but I didn’t attack it—not immediately anyway. First, I kissed and licked her soft silky thighs, noticing her arousal—the tiny droplets of nectar on her labia. Next, I gently blew onto and into her. Jill’s body shuddered in response. When I licked her from her sphincter to her clit she lost it. “Please…please, Rocky…please fuck me! I need you so badly. I need to hold you and have you.” I moved forward and took my wife in a single hard thrust. Jill pulled my lips to hers with a stranglehold on my neck as her long legs locked around my waist.

“You do realize that this is just a preliminary. I’m going to cum in your ass tonight.”

“You could cum in my pussy, too,” she pouted. “We do have all night. I don’t care if we never sleep.” She pulled back just a bit before rolling her hips into mine. I took the hint, withdrew a few inches and drove into her, slowly at first, but gaining in depth and speed with every thrust. Jill moved with me, but not to rub her clit. Jill was blessed with vaginal orgasms—the only woman I’d ever known who could cum just from having a hard cock inside her. I still recalled our first time together. She asked if she could ride me. I agreed, thinking that I’d massage her clit to enable her orgasm, but when I began to rub it she told me, “You don’t have to. Your cock is doing it for me.”

“Vaginal orgasms,” I had asked incredulously. Jill simply nodded. “Lucky girl!” She grinned wildly as she experienced the strongest orgasm I’d ever seen. She had told me that it wasn’t every time, but in my experience I’d guess she came more than ninety percent of the times we’d made love.

We were humping now like teenagers. From what I could see Jill had already experienced one and was quickly building to another. Jill now used her “secret weapon,” flexing her Kegel muscles. That sent me over the top. My cock felt that it had exploded. Only the presence of our daughters down the hall prevented me from screaming as it hit. Looking down at Jill I could see her experience a massive spasm as her orgasm took brief, but complete, control of her body. We lay together, exhausted and covered in sexual sweat as we slowly recovered. Finally, I rolled off, but pulled Jill onto me as we held each other tenderly.

“Why don’t you send the asshole a text? That way you won’t have to speak with him.” Jill nodded, rose from the bed, and returned a few seconds later, her phone in her hand. I watched as she created her note: It’s over. I have finally come to my senses to realize that what I have with Rocky is priceless while what I had with you was worthless. Do not contact me again. I don’t want to see you. I want nothing to do with you. Stay home with your wife instead.” She showed me the text, I approved, and she hit “send.” Then she showed me that she had deleted his number.

“I’m ready, Rocky. You can have my ass now.”

“Yeah…right. Set the alarm for three. I’ll take it then. Do you need more sex from me? Do we need to make love more often?”

I could see her start to cry again before whispering that she did. “I need it every day. I think I’m a nympho.”

“Okay…we’ll do it every single day. What about during your period?”

“Especially then—I get so horny during it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Like I’d ever complain about making love with you; if your blood gets on me I can always wash it off, can’t I?”

“I’ll wash it for you. I’ll wash you every day. I love showering with you.” Rather than answer I just pulled her lips to mine once again. I pulled the blanket over us, but as I did I saw Jill setting her alarm. Her head rested on my left shoulder and her leg lay on mine as we settled in to sleep.

I never heard the alarm. Instead I felt Jill’s tongue on my cock. She whispered once she saw I was awake. “I woke up a few minutes ago and shut off the alarm. I didn’t think you’d mind waking up this way.” She smiled briefly before swallowing me whole. I was hard in an instant. Leaning over I reached for the bedside lamp. I needed to see what I was doing.

Before tonight Jill had steadfastly denied me her ass. “It’s disgusting,” she’d said. Maybe it was, but it was also a part of Mediterranean culture. Anal sex was a common practice in Greece—everyone knew that—but also in Crete and Sicily and even some parts of Italy. Believe it or not, my dad had told me how much he enjoyed taking my mom’s ass during one of those talks every father is supposed to have with his son. I knew I planned to join Jill when the time came for our daughters.

“Move over here, Jill.” I slipped a pillow under her hips once she was in place at the side of the bed.

“Have you done this before, Rocky?”

“Nope; you’ve always turned me down.”

“Then, how do you know what to do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Porn?”

“Not even close; try Grandpa Vito.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope; he told me all about it during one of those ‘talks.’ Apparently he and my mother do it regularly, but don’t say anything.” I fingered her pussy, making it wet.

“I thought….”

“I am, but it will help if you’re relaxed and turned on.”

Jill leaned forward to kiss me. “That won’t take much.” I pushed my cock into her tunnel as I introduced my first KY-covered finger into her ass. “Ooooh! I’m surprised, Rocky. I’m tingling!” I just smiled as I fucked both her cunt and butt. A few minutes later I added another finger, twisting my digits to relax her muscles as well as to spread the lube.

I slowed the action in her cunt and began to emphasize the action with my fingers. Slowing the motions of my cock kept Jill at the edge as my third finger found its way easily into her nether hole. I pulled out and switched my cock for my fingers in an instant. A second later I was balls deep in her bowel, wiping my messy hand on my tee shirt before dumping it on the floor.

Jill’s legs went to my shoulders and she realized for the first time what was happening when I used both hands to worry her hard nipples. Jill was so hot that she grabbed my head to pull me down for a really hot kiss even though it meant her ankles had to pass her ears. If that was a surprise what happened next shocked me. Jill began to hump me, driving my cock deeply into her bowel. Her movements were exactly what she did with her cunt. I knew I was close even though I had cum only a few hours earlier, but I was not as close as Jill was. She grabbed her pillow and pressed it over her face as she screamed and thrashed all over the bed. I came hard–my cock erupting as I filled her with my cream even though I’d had a strong orgasm only four hours ago. I had no idea this could be so intense…so overwhelming. Releasing her legs I moved down to remove the pillow and kiss her. Only then did I realize that she had passed out.

I swung her legs around so she lay completely on the bed. Looking down I could see that we’d have to change the sheets and shower before returning to sleep. Climbing carefully next to her was a challenge. There was a pool of liquefied KY mixed with either her juices and/or my semen. As I said earlier—the bed was a mess.

Lying next to Jill I could easily understand her appeal, even to a weasel like Alex Hammond. She was beautiful and sexually stimulated so easily. I leaned down to kiss her cheek and as I did she began to stir. Her eyes fluttered several times before she became lucid. When she did she pulled me down for another long kiss, whispering to me when she broke it, “We are definitely doing that again. I had the most incredible orgasm. It went on and on until my entire body was consumed.”

“But, I wasn’t touching either your clit or your pussy.”

“I know; I’m sure it was an anal orgasm! Dear God, what have I been missing? Oh, Rocky, I was so afraid it would hurt, but it didn’t–not even a little. Your finger made me tingle and then the two made it stronger and the third…well, that’s when it began. My orgasm started before you even fucked me and it continued right up until you came. I felt as though I had exploded. Darling, it was the most intense experience of my life. I swear…I will never cheat on you again…as the Blessed Virgin is my witness.”

“I love the way this is going and I hate to end it, but we both need showers and we need to change the bed. Alicia and Sofia are early risers so we need to get back to sleep. Why don’t you go while I get started on the bed?”

“No…I want to shower with you.” She rose and pulled me with her. A minute later we held each other once again under the steamy stream, holding, kissing, and running the foamy soap over each other and exploring each other like kids. The shower took too long, but neither of us wanted it to end. Once we were dry we ripped the sheets from the bed and slept on the mattress pad, naked under the blanket. We were both asleep in seconds.

+++++

The next thing I felt was my daughter Sofia climbing over my body to hug and kiss me. The sun was bright in the sky and when I looked down I realized that Jill was spooning in front of me with my hand on her breast. She turned over, gave me a sheepish look that told me she knew we were caught, and leaned over to kiss me. I was only expecting a quick peck, but she gripped my head and held it for more than a minute until we heard two sets of giggles. Only then did we open our eyes to see our two beautiful girls leaning over us.

“Are you getting up, Daddy? We’re hungry. We want breakfast, don’t we, Alicia?”

“We’re getting up, but you guys have to leave and close the door behind you.”

They were giggling again as they asked, “Why, Daddy?”

“Because we’re not dressed, that’s why! Now get moving.” They didn’t move an inch.

“Are you naked, Daddy?” Oh, why did we ever have children?

“Yes, we’re naked. It’s okay; your mom and I are married, but you are too old to see me naked so get your butts out of here now. If you don’t I’ll put you over my knee before you eat a bite.” I pointed to the door and they ran out giggling. Jill climbed out of bed and closed the door behind them. She was back to me in an instant.

“Why don’t you get dressed while I get breakfast started? How about an omelet and some bacon?”

“Sounds good, but…think it can wait for a few minutes?” I would have pulled her down, but she was already on the way herself. We kissed and held each other; I wasn’t at all surprised when she moved my hand to her asshole.

“That’s all yours now, too.” She jumped up, grabbed a robe and was out the door a moment later. I swung my feet to the floor and struggled to the bathroom for much needed relief for my distended bladder. Once I was done I dressed hurriedly and joined my family in the kitchen. I kissed Jill’s neck and wrapped my arm around her waist. “You’re so wicked,” she whispered as I released her to pour myself a big glass of grapefruit juice, knowing exactly what my daughters’ reaction would be.

“Ewwww! That’s nasty, Daddy!”

“No, it’s really tasty—want some?”

“NO,” they both exclaimed.

“Remember what I told you about Sicily? They grow all kinds of citrus fruits there, even lemons as big as oranges. We couldn’t afford oranges—they were too expensive—so we ate grapefruit and I learned to love them. It all depends on what you are used to. You should ask your grandparents the next time you see them.” Jill’s phone vibrated—an incoming text. She looked at me, fear in her eyes.

I picked it up and opened the message—“It’s not over until I say it is. I’ll tell Rocco what a tramp you are if you try to stop.”

I showed it to Jill, asking her, “Would you like me to respond?”

“Please.”

I rarely text so my efforts were uncoordinated, but I thought the message was great—Rocky would be pissed at me, but he loves me and would forgive. However, he would probably kill you, especially after reading your text. Leave me alone. I don’t want you any longer. I was naïve and stupid.”

I showed it to Jill and she laughed, “A bit long, but otherwise right on target.” I pressed the button to send it. Jill also received a text at 8:47, 9:02, 9:26, and 10:01 and several more throughout the morning. We did not respond to any of them, but kept them on Jill’s phone in case we needed evidence sometime in the future. I could see a restraining order as a real possibility if this continued.

Jill told me she needed to take the girls shopping. “What about this phone? I’m afraid.” I held her in my arms and kissed her then whispered how much I loved her. Then I took her phone and gave her mine instead.

“Just imagine what would happen if he was stupid enough to phone.” She giggled, kissed my cheek and led the girls out the door. I stood outside to wave good-bye, lingering long enough to see if our neighbor tried to follow her. He didn’t, luckily. However, he was as stupid as I had thought. Jill’s phone rang about a half hour later. I decided to play dumb.

“Hello?”

“Who is this?”

“Who the hell is this and why are you calling my wife’s phone?”

“Uh, sorry—wrong number.”

All of these phone messages helped me to make a decision. I phoned Pete. “Sorry for bothering you on the weekend, but I’m going to need some help Monday morning.”

“How’d your discussion go?”

“Let me put it this way—she kept me up most of the night. It was great and I’ve mostly forgiven her, but her asshole refuses to take no for an answer. Can you have somebody here first thing Monday morning in case he tries to come over after I leave for work?”

“Yeah, I’ll use the same two I’ve used all along—a Mutt and Jeff team. The big guy is intimidating, but the little guy is dangerous.” We spoke for a while to firm up the arrangements then I called the mob.

When people think of organized crime they think of people named Angelo or Vincente or Salvador or Mario. I phoned someone much more dangerous than anyone I’ve ever known by those names—a Jew named Seymour Finkel. I spent five minutes on hold before he came to the phone. He knew his phone was tapped, probably by the FBI, so his words were measured as were mine. “Morning, Counselor.”

“Morning, Mr. Finkel; I need to see you in regard to that legal matter we discussed.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it’s essential that we meet to review this. How’s Monday for you? I can order in lunch from Ben’s if you like.”

“Sounds good—brisket on rye with mustard; get some of their coleslaw and pickles, too. Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda would be good. What time?”

“Any time after twelve would work.”

“See you at one.”

All of our phone conversations were like this. We both knew there was no pressing legal matter to discuss, but he knew I wanted to see him about something I thought was important. He owed me. He’d be there on time to pay me back. His nephew thought he was the second coming of the godfather even though Seymour had wisely moved the organization into legitimate enterprises. Unfortunately, his nephew had apparently failed to see the light. He had beaten a store owner who had balked at paying protection, a scheme that had gone out of vogue decades ago due to pressures from the FBI and state police. Next thing he knew—Surprise! He was arrested and placed into the County Jail.

Rather than bail him out I convinced Seymour to let him stew for a week. In the meantime I had approached the store owner with a financial settlement. When he lost interest in the case and refused to testify the district attorney was stymied. Seymour had paid $250,000 and promised the man would never see his nephew again. Even the nephew knew better than to cross his uncle. All told I had spent roughly eight hours solving the problem, but charging Seymour nothing for my time. Sometimes a favor was worth much more than mere money.

There were more unanswered texts on Saturday and through Sunday, too. I could tell that Jill was afraid. I addressed the issue with her that evening as we prepared for bed—for another bout of fantastic sex. “Just trust me, Jill. I won’t allow you to be harmed.”

“But what will happen once you go to work? I’ll be here all by myself. Oh, I wish I’d never allowed myself to get involved with that man.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes here. Do not open the door. Tell him to go away and leave you alone. Tell him once only and if he persists call the police. Tell them a man is trying to break into your house.”

“What if he gets in? What if he breaks down the door?”

“You need to trust me. Julie will receive an envelope like the one I shared with you by ten and if Alex continues to harass you I’ll be in court out in Hauppauge for a restraining order. I can have Pete serve him at home, assuming Julie lets him in. That will be the beginning of the end for him. Now I think I promised you something else.”

Jill was in my arms, her legs intertwined with mine, a second later. As we had the past two nights, we were naked and I suspected we would be for many years ahead. I very much enjoyed the soft smoothness of her skin against mine; she told me she found the touch of mine reassuring. Tonight she pushed me onto my back, trapping my cock between our bodies. Spreading her legs opened her slit to me and she rubbed me into her moistness. It was sexy as hell, but all I could think of was if she had done this with that asshole. My thoughts must have been obvious because a bit later she whispered, “You’re the only person I’ve ever done this with. He was always too impatient. Are we going to go through this every time I try something new? I read about this in Cosmo, okay?”

“I’m sorry; I need to learn to trust you again. Do both of us a favor and let me know….” She put her finger to my lips.

“I fucked him, that’s all although that’s bad enough. He always wanted to do it missionary so he could be in control. He came fast then we’d rest for about two hours and we’d do it again. Truthfully, he wasn’t that great a lover. He was different and forbidden. I found that exciting, but now I realize that it was just stupid. I never licked or sucked him and he never licked me. Looking back I have trouble understanding why I did anything with him. Can we continue now? You’ve made me really horny.” My response was a long hot kiss with my tongue down her throat.

Jill continued to rock and grind her slit onto my cock which was just about ready to erupt. Then she did something—I had no idea what—and I was inside her. Looking up I saw the love in her face and I realized that I had to trust her. It was part of my promise to never mention her infidelity after Friday night. She fucked me, but not for too long—she’d made me too hot with her earlier sexual gymnastics. I blew into her as she leaned down to whisper, ”Two–not too bad considering. Let’s go to sleep. We both have a busy day tomorrow.” She kissed me again and laid her head on my shoulder.

+++++

Alicia and Sofia always left for the school bus at 7:30 and I always left ten minutes later, driving past the bus stop to wave and blow kisses. I never had to worry about them. One of the other parents—a cop—was always there with his young son. This morning as I backed out into the road I noticed a metallic silver SUV just down the street with two guys who reminded me of Mutt and Jeff. I waved and they returned it. Where they were parked they had a good view of both our front door and the Hammonds’ driveway. I felt better knowing that Jill would be safe.

My drive to work usually takes between thirty and forty minutes depending on traffic, accidents, and plain old driver stupidity. I usually took the Northern Parkway west to the Meadowbrook. These roads were designed by a bigwig state planner named Robert Moses to transport people in cars to and from a bunch of state parks in the area. They were designed to be used by cars and only cars, but every now and then a trucker from out-of-state gets on these roads only to find that the bridges are too low for their trailers. I can’t tell you how many trailers I’ve seen with the tops sheared off and the goods spread across the road. When that happens my forty minute trip can become an hour longer. These are limited access roads; not as bad as an interstate, but still pretty bad.

Today I wasn’t fifteen minutes away when my phone rang. Pete’s men called—Alex was at the door, knocking at first, and banging on the door and screaming a minute later. I ended the call and rang Jill. “Call the police now,” I told her when she answered. I stayed on the cell while she called on the land line. Pete’s men detained Alex when he tried to run from the cops. He was arrested for harassment, a misdemeanor for which he’d be released on own recognizance which basically meant no bail, but also gave me reason for a restraining order. Once I reached the Meadowbrook Parkway I made a u-turn and drove instead to the Suffolk County court buildings in Hauppauge.

We lived in Suffolk County so the order had to come from one of their judges. If I got there early enough I could catch a judge to sign my order before courts opened for the day. Luckily, driving east as I was doing was much easier than driving west toward Nassau County and New York City. The court buildings are just a few miles beyond the end of the parkway and the parking lot was mostly empty at that hour—not even 8:30. I showed my photo I.D. along with my New York Bar card at security where I also asked if any judges were in yet. “Try Judge Cohen in Part 27 up on the second floor. He’s always here early.” I thanked them and walked briskly to the elevator. My knocks on the door were answered by a bailiff.

Once again I identified myself even though I’d appeared in Judge Cohen’s court more than a dozen times. The bailiff had just told me to wait when I heard his honor calling to me. “Come on in, Rocco. I haven’t seen you in months. How are you?”

“Fine, Your Honor, but I’m really here on business—personal business. I explained about Jill’s affair and how she had tried to end it, but how Hammond had refused. When I told him how he had tried to force his way into our house he asked for the papers I had completed over the weekend. He signed and sealed three copies—one for Mr. Hammond, one for the court, and one for me. I was back in my car ten minutes later.

I phoned Pete en route to tell him I needed an order served then I phoned my office and told my secretary to contact the messenger service we used. I wanted a messenger ASAP, meaning before I arrived. Both were there when I walked in the door. I dealt with the messenger first, pulling Pete’s second envelope from my safe. It was already addressed. “Make sure you deliver it to Mrs. Julie Hammond and no one else. Have her sign a receipt.” Once he was gone I spoke with Pete.

“This is a restraining order on Alex Hammond. You know that he was arrested this morning, but I think he’s stupid enough to try again so I want your men to stay with Jill. He’ll be out of custody pretty soon and he’ll either go back to Jill or he’ll go to work. If he goes back to Jill have your guys call the cops as soon as he shows up. Have them explain that a restraining order is in effect, but he hasn’t yet been served. I think the cops will take him back to the precinct so you can serve him there. Whatever, I want him served today.” Pete agreed and I paid him both the thousand he’d asked for last week and the server’s fee of $300. It was 10:30 and about time I returned to earning a living.

I worked on several cases until noon when I was told a Mrs. Hammond was on the line. “Hi, Julie.”

“Do you know what your whore wife has been up to?”

“I think you’ll find that Alex seduced her and you should know me well enough to know that I can prove it. I found out about it almost two weeks ago. That’s when I hired the private detective. He’s the one the firm uses so I know he’s reliable. I confronted Jill Friday night and I know she sent Alex a text message that she wanted to end it. Since Saturday morning he’s sent her more than thirty texts threatening her with exposure if she tried to stop. He was arrested this morning trying to break his way into our house. He’ll be served with a restraining order sometime today. Hold on a second, will you?”

I picked up my business cell. It was Pete. “He’s been served, Rocky and he wasn’t happy about it. I explained that any violation would land him back in jail.”

“Good work; I’m on the phone with his wife right now.” I ended that call and returned to Julie. “Sorry, that was the detective. Alex has been served with the restraining order. Jill and I are staying together. She made a big mistake, but part of it was my fault, too. I took her for granted. Hard to believe, but she’s really insecure about her body and her appearance. She told me she met Alex at church—the bake sale—and he was very flattering. Let’s face it—he’s a salesman. That’s what he does. I’m not excusing Jill. She went along with it for more than ten weeks. I gave you a copy of the room use at the Marriott. What you decide is up to you. I do wish you the best. You certainly didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.”

“You’re right, Rocky; what you don’t know is that this isn’t his first big mistake. It’s his third that I know of. I told him two years ago that three strikes and you’re out. This is his third strike. I don’t know what I’ll tell the kids.”

“It’s going to be hard. We’d like to shield our girls, if possible. After this morning I wouldn’t be surprised if he went off the deep end when everything hits the fan.” I ended the call after suggesting my associate, Steve Donaldson, to handle the divorce. “He’s a shark…just like me.” It was just past noon so I told my secretary to have one of the aides get an order of sandwiches from Ben’s, a kosher deli just down the street from my office and the courts on Old Country Road.

NEXT: Vendetta!

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