A dozen years of marriage was gone in the course of just a couple of months.
Truth is, we probably should have divorced three months after the ceremony.
What happened kept me furious for years.
One night an Army buddy of mine got a little too drunk to drive home, so I told
him to sleep it off on my couch. My new bride and I were on the floor, pretty
drunk ourselves, horny and whispering. Lisa told me she’d always had fantasies
about being in a three-way with two guys … which was fine by me; we’d both
had a lot of partners in our lives and we both loved sex.
“Go ahead and ask him if you want,” I whispered. “Don’t be disappointed if you
can’t wake him up – he’s pretty wasted.”
“Really? You don’t mind?” Her face was inches away from mine, so I kissed her.
“If it’s fun for you, it’ll be fun for everybody,” I said.
So she crawled over, all curvy and young with her long black hair and her tits
and ass busting out of her shorts and tank top. She got to the couch and put a
hand on Wilton’s shoulder. It took a couple of shakes before he snorted and
opened a single bleary eye. Then she said something in his ear very quietly. He
was instantly awake.
“I won’t do anything with you, dude,” he said to me. “I ain’t queer.”
I had to laugh. “Me either. Lisa just wants a threesome. Hell, since we’re all
here … you up for it?”
“Fuck yeah!”
Lisa stood up a little shakey and took off her top – she wasn’t wearing a bra –
and then got rid of her shorts and panties. She was still cute back then, no
more than 140 healthy pounds and 28 years old, jiggly in all the right places.
Then she knelt down in front of my friend’s crotch and started undoing the
buttons on his battle dress uniform. She didn’t take any time, just sucked his
cock right into her mouth.
I walked up behind her and got her legs apart with my foot, then knelt and
unzipped my shorts. I guess I could have offered my combat bro a pair of shorts
to sleep in, but the whole evening was kind of unplanned, and he passed out
before the thought occurred to me (which was only five minutes ago, all these
years later). Guess I was a rude host. But hell, we were field artillery. We
were lucky if we could lay down to sleep.
Didn’t matter anyway – all three of us were stark naked a few minutes into it.
Me and Wilton took turns fucking her mouth and her pussy, and for a little
while I was able to fuck her tender ass, until she had to pull off his cock
long enough to tell me it hurt too much. We were hard and constant and Lisa
came at least 14 times that I could count … constant, hard, filled with cock,
thrusting, so many orgasms that she went into a trance, and it looked like one
long cum to me, and it felt like one whenever I had her pussy.
A little before three I came in her cunt and sat back on the couch to watch my
buddy get off. Lisa looked at me, and she was flushed with pleasure, but
clearly not enjoying it anymore. “You gotta finish up, bro,” I said.
“I can go all night!” he said. Lisa gave me a pleading look.
“Couple more minutes, then we all gotta get some sleep. First formation’s in
four hours.”
He took the hint, gave a couple more thrusts into my new wife’s pussy, and then
withdrew. “Thanks Lisa, you were really amazing!” he said. “I hope it was your
fantasy.”
Lisa got up and went into our bedroom and slammed the door shut. I looked at
Wilton and he looked at me, and we both shrugged. I walked into the bedroom,
noticed the door to the master bathroom shut, walked back out to the second
bathroom for a quick piss, and set the alarm for six a.m. before passing out
for a three-hour snooze.
*****
Field artillery with an M109A3 self-propelled 155mm Howitzer is hard work, even
when you’re just doing maintenance. At the end of the day your muscles ache and
the grease requires mechanic’s soap to get off. All you want is a good shower
and a couple of beers. That wasn’t about to happen.
At first Lisa was just mad at me, but she wouldn’t say why. We had agreed never
to go to bed mad, so I kept pestering until she finally spilled the beans: She
hadn’t enjoyed our previous night’s activities. “I’m so sorry!” I said. “You
should have said something!”
“I looked at you. You should have known!”
“I ended the thing, didn’t I? You looked at me, and I called it quits, and it
stopped.”
I was still in my BDUs with old grease all over me, and it was starting to
itch. I knew if I didn’t get it off quick it was going to stain my skin and
cause tiny blisters that would keep me scratching for a month. “And another
thing, if you think you’re going to do anything like that yourself, you’re
wrong!”
“What?” I said. “That’s not fair! I let you do what you want, and now you’re
telling me I can’t do the same goddamn thing?”
“Deal with it!”
And then she locked herself in the master bath, which had the only supply of
mechanic’s soap. So I straightened a coat hanger, dislodged the lock, and
tossed her out.
That night I went to bed seething with rage.
*****
I never did get over it. I tried, but every time she did any little thing wrong
it was one more thing to hold against her.
The days dragged by like dying animals, and the days turned into years, and all
that time I was trying to make my first marriage work while trying to get out
of it at the same time. The fights got bigger and bigger, so I started drinking
heavier and heavier. I was dealing with it, just not very well. At the end I
couldn’t stand to be in her company. I set up my own bedroom for a couple of
years, and only saw her before and after work. When we were both home I spent
my time either on the porch reading or in my own bed. She had numerous on-line
affairs but warned me against doing the same. So I killed the computer. Then
she started boasting about all the young men who were flirting with her, but
scared off everyone – male or female – who was even a potential friend of mine.
I was in perfect solitude.
I’d tried divorce a number of times, but she wanted to fight. I could have had
it when I left for Tampa with $75 in my pocket, if I’d agreed to pay her $800
and left her everything. Once I was sleeping in the woods and a sheriff’s
deputy found me to say I owed $1,600 in household support, when I hadn’t eaten
in three days.
So I made my plan.
Since Lisa was out of town on a weekend shopping spree to Miami, and I had a
valid ATM card with VISA priviledge, I looked up “Escorts” in the Yellow Pages.
The first girl who showed up was perfect.