Kendra And Scott Nelson free porn video

"Okay, he's gone, satisfied?" she said.

"Yeah, sorry for interrupting you two. But satisfied? You mean satisfied that he is no longer doing you in our front room in the middle of the day? You mean satisfied because of that?" I said. "I mean how could I not be satisfied. I mean I did stop you from cheating on me—for the moment."

"You're over reacting, Scott. So, Humphrey fucked me. We didn't do it in our bed, yours and mine. And, it's wasn't cheating on you, not to my mind," said Kendra Nelson, nee Fairc***d, my wife and love for the past sixteen years.

"Overreacting? How do you figure?" I said, and that not unreasonably. She sighed.

"It's only cheating if the stud of the moment has some hope, however vague, of replacing the husband of the moment. Humphrey Westmoreland has no such hope, not even," she said. He fills a need that you don't. Sorry, Scott, but you're boring! And, I wouldn't be surprised if I bore you! It's nature I guess. We've been married a long time; boring is part of the equation.

"Boring am I? Oh and, I must say that you are more than creative in your definition of cheating. I do believe that if we looked it up in the dictionary that we'd discover that the accepted definition is a helluva lot different than yours, my love," I said.

"And that's exactly it, Scott, I am your love—not his. Not ever his, believe it," she said. "You and I will grow old together as we should. Faithful to a fault in the real definition of the term."

"And, if I take exception to your definition of things? Well, what does that mean for us?" I said. She went pensive on me.

"I guess it means that you will have to leave," she said. She'd surprised me, stunned me, stopped me; but, only for the moment.

"Am I hearing you right? You plan to divorce me if I don't accept Humphrey and you getting it on? Is that really what you're saying," I said.

"No, no, no, no, I'm not saying that at all. Divorce would have to be your choice; I will never opt for a divorce if it's up to me. I'm just saying that unless you are okay with me; well, playing with Humphrey on the side, that you cannot stay here in the house until you 'are' okay with it. I can be very patient with you on this, Scott; but I will not allow you to stay here and be a wet blanket on everything and everyone that comes around," she said, "you'll have to shack up somewhere else until you get your head on straight." I almost laughed, but not quite, not yet.

"Let me get this straight. One: you plan to continue fucking him whether I like it or not because I'm boring? Two: you're kicking me out—if you can—if I do not agree to like it? That about the size of things?" I said.

Yes, more or less," she said, "pretty much. The house was my parents; it belongs to me, not us. So never doubt that I can get your jealous butt booted, at least for the short term. And, I say the short term because I know, that as time wound on, you'd come to your senses and realize that me doing Humphrey would be a good thing for you as well as for him and me."

"Really. Well, let me ask you. What if I decide to get me a little strange on the side? I mean accept your little dalliance and require you to do the same? How about that!" I said.

"Do it!" she said, without hesitation.

"Yeah, you say that because you know I never would. Right?" I said. She snickered.

"You still haven't lost all of your hair, your looks either. Just do it. I can't very well object to you playing if I'm doing it," she said. My turn to snicker. I knew she was the draw not me. I might be able to find me a woman whom I didn't actually turn off, but it would be a lot harder for me than for her, and she knew it would be harder for me. But, even given all of that, I wouldn't do it anyway. It wasn't right.

"Hmm, and what about Marylou?" I said. I was playing my hole card. Marylou was our eighteen year-old daughter, now a senior at Central High. My wife's whoring around was not going to sit well with her. Of that, I was certain to an absolute degree. My wife snickered.

"Marylou already knows. She caught me and Humphrey months ago," said Kendra. My mood darkened.

"What did you say?" I said. My tone now bespoke shock and disbelief.

"Oh, don't get your panties all in a wad about Marylou. Yes, she knows, but she made me promise not to hurt you or rub your nose in what I was doing with him. So you see, she loves you enough to want to protect you. That should make you feel good. Right, I mean about her?" she said.

"Well, even if you're not lying in your teeth, you seem to have broken your agreement with her. I mean I am hurt, and you are rubbing my nose in it even now," I said.

"No I'm not, well, not on purpose. I guess I have to admit to hurting you. You really didn't need this—mess," she said. I ignored her more than flawed logic.

"Marylou will be staying with me. I mean after I talk to her and find out just how big a liar you are?" I said. Her turn to have her mood darken: I'd shaken her.

"I'm not lying, and you are over reacting. And, there won't be any custody issue, because she's a technical adult; and, also because we are not going to be divorcing, unless you are even dumber than I was doing Humphrey here in the house today. First time by the way, and I promise you it's the last time. Dumb-dumb-dumb on my part," said Kendra.

"Not dumb, dear, arrogant and contemptuous of me is all," I said

"No! I never held you in contempt. Surely you can grant me that much, Scott," she said.

"I'm not granting you anything, but it doesn't matter. But anyway, now we at least understand each other, dear soon to be ex-wife. Get this. I am filing for divorce. I will be asking Marylou to stay with me until she heads off to state; unless that is, she opts to live with her whore of a mother instead. If that turns out to be the case neither one of you will ever see me again. I hope I'm not being vague here; I really do not want to be vague or misunderstood," I said.

"Jesus! Scott, did I say you were overreacting! I should have said that you're fucking crazy!" said Kendra.

"No-no-no, dear, you're the one that been fucking—Humphrey that is. And crazy? Maybe I am; I did marry you didn't I.

"I should have suspected it, your cheating on me. That especially given the way you've neglected me over these past weeks. I mean how long has it been for me and you, a month maybe, month and half?" I said. She looked surprised.

"Really? It's been that long. Well, I will remedy that immediately if you will allow. My bad," she said.

"Great, a mercy fuck for me, your husband. Forget it skank. I have no use for you anymore. Too bad too, you were a good wife while it lasted, the marriage that is. Well, that is I had thought you were a good wife. I guess I thought wrong. So fuck you, fuck him, and fuck anyone else who thinks that what you're doing is okay," I said.

My implication was not lost on my wife. If my daughter was actually okay with what my personal whore was doing; she was history. Yes, even my daughter. Yes, I would write off even my daughter if she was so much as tacitly okay with what her mother was doing to me. Because what her mother was doing and demanding, was utterly beyond the pale as far as I was concerned.

"Now wait a minute, Scott! You're not thinking of going off on Marylou are you? She's still a k** in high school. She doesn't have the experience to know how to make judgments or really think logically," said Kendra.

"Go off on her? Heavens no! But, she better not be okay with you cheating on me," I said. "That, I will not accept on any level."

"Jesus I wish Hump and I hadn't decided to do it here today!" she said.

"Yeah, sorry you got caught, but not sorry you did it. Not sorry you've neglected me. Not sorry you've gotten my daughter—if you're not lying—to back you in whoring around on me. You are a trip for damn sure, Kendra," I said.

We both turned when we heard the back door open and close. Marylou Nelson was home.

"Hi mom, hi dad," she said, tossing her backpack onto the couch.

"Hi honey," said her mom. I tendered her a wan smile. She picked up on the wanness.

"Dad? Something wrong?" said Marylou. I guess I was pretty transparent.

"Don't know. We need to talk you and I, but it can wait till after dinner," I said. I needed time to get my thinking straight, hence, the delay.

"Dad?" she said, concern in her tone.

"After dinner. Should be no problem the way I see things. Okay?" I said. She nodded, but it was a tentative nod.

******

Dinner and dishes done, I headed for the front room. Marylou followed me without my having to ask. Kendra hung back in the kitchen busying herself for the moment with who knew what.

"Dad?" said Marylou. I motioned her to sit though I remained standing.

"Just a few questions, dear heart. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said. Kendra had come in but just leaned against the kitchen entranceway jamb to monitor things.

"Did you know that your mother had a lover and kept that knowledge from me deliberately?" I said. She took on a stricken look.

"Kinda," she said.

"Next question: do you approve of her adultery?" I said.

"Not exactly, no, but mom explained that what she was doing was not really adultery, cheating," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, final question. Your mom and I will be getting a divorce. Who would you rather live with, her and her lover, or me?" I said. I was smiling as though I had already won the race, but the truth was I was terrified that I would lose it.

"Huh? I—I—I don't want you to get a divorce!" said Marylou.

"Your mother gives me no choice. She says she intends to keep fucking her asshole lover whether I like it or not; she says I'm boring. And, that at the least until and unless I can bring myself to agree to tolerate her adultery that I have to move out: so, a divorce is going to happen. So, which is it: her and her asshole or me" I said.

"No!" screamed Marylou. "Can't you just ignore her and mister Westmoreland? He isn't around much. Please dad?

"Dad, couples lose interest in sex, in doing it with each other after many years. As young as I am even I know that. Mom is just playing a little that's all. She told me," said Marylou.

"Not around 'much'?" I said. "Thought today was the first time, Kendra." My wife had the decency to look away. "Lose interest in doing it with each other? Who's this we you're talking about?"

"Dad!" she said. I waved her off.

"I guess I have my answer. You win Kendra. I'll be gone shortly," I said. The bitterness in my heart and soul had to be clearly apparent to the both of them.

"What! You can't mean . . ." started my wife.

"Daddy, you need to listen to mom. She loves you not that other guy!" said Marylou. "Hump—mister Westmoreland—isn't trying to take your place. And, even if he were, mom would never let him. Really dad!"

"Hump is it, Marylou? I snorted.

"But no, she doesn't me of that I am sure. She loves him; I'm just the one paying the bills, but no more. She and I are done, and so are you and I," I said.

"Daddy!"

And yes, dear reader, I know I was being cruel on some level. But so were they and them the more so.

My daughter ran upstairs. My wife and I heard her slam the door.

"You could have been a little less cruel," said my wife. "She's your daughter."

"The way I see it you're the cruel one. You and good 'ole Humphrey are the ones who have destroyed this family, and, my relationship with my daughter. I hope that someday you realize just how badly you've chosen—her too," I said, nodding toward the stairs.

"Oh! You are so stubborn," she said.

"Stubborn? No, but utterly intolerant of what you are doing. And, in case it matters, I am hurt and jealous and filled with hate and bitterness. Have a bad life all of you," I said. Then, I headed upstairs to get my things. I was packed and on my way downstairs in half an hour.

As I packed, Kendra had kept up an almost ceaseless barrage of ill-conceived arguments, railing at me to calm down and rethink my decision to leave. She even threw in promises of primo sex to be delivered immediately and with gusto if I'd cave—have to admit that last was tempting. Her efforts in that respect precipitated a case of the raging hornies in my pants, but I was determined to never touch her again regardless of how everything played out in the weeks and months ahead. And yes, friends, I was on the verge of breaking down, big fucking surprise.

******

I was gone and settled into the Rockville Lodge within an hour of having left the pair of them. Kendra's parting shot was that she would ruin me if I dared opt for a divorce. And, that was the rub.

I had adamantly held that I would be divorcing her. But, did I really want to go that route and get financially ****d in the doing of it. I decided to do nothing for the present. If I met someone that I wanted to spend my life with, it might be a different story, but in the near term inaction was going to be my modus operandi. And, that regardless of the message it was likely to send to the two women now formerly in my life.

******

I guess I need to digress for a moment. Who the heck are we exactly, the Nelsons? Well, as to that the following might be of some utility.

Me: Scott Nelson, thirty-eight, five-eight, one-forty-five, auto mechanic, not terrible looking for a slightly balding, slightly paunchy ex-jock (track and field).

My wife: also thirty-eight, five-seven, one-twenty, housewife, very pretty dark haired ex-cheerleader with a bubble butt and really sensational B-cups.

Marylou: 18, pretty, popular, still growing in womanly terms but looking to be a mirror image of her mom. And was—and still was—the apple of my eye; that in spite of her, as I saw it, betrayal of me. I'd be a long time getting by that one if I ever could.

******

She kept checking her watch, and then her cell phone every two minutes as though she were waiting for delivery of her lottery winnings. She took another sip of her martini and sighed.

"How's it going Kendra," said the barkeep, coming up to her as she waited.

"Okay," she said. He, was a pro, was Calvin Wicks, head barkeep at the Clarendon Inn. He knew when to gab and when to shut up. He didn't retort that it was clear that everything with my wife was not okay. Instead he ambled off down the bar in response to a couple of raised beer mugs.

She started as another woman plopped down on the stool beside her own. "Connie! Jesus, you startled me," said Kendra.

"Sorry. Anyway, what's up. You sounded stressed out when you called," said Connie Dunn, age 36, pretty, short, and best friend of her current companion.

"Yeah, well, I am I guess," said Kendra.

"Okay?" said Connie.

"Scott caught me and Hump, and he's moved out," said Kendra.

"Oh shit. I told you doing it at your place would be a mistake. When did all of this happen?" said Connie.

"Yesterday. I don't know what I'm going to do. If he doesn't pay the bills, we'll lose the house," said Kendra.

"He'll pay 'em; it's in his best interest," said Connie.

"I don't know; he's pretty mad. I called Hump earlier, and he has offered to move in and pick up the slack if Scott doesn't return by week's end. He, Hump, does make more than does Scott, quite a bit more, but will he want to be payin' long haul. I mean will he want to keep our relationship going if he has to pay the freight for any serious length of time?

"He's not as steady or as trustworthy long haul as Scott is. It's just that Scott and I have gotten to the doldrums state of things sexually among other things. I need the variety. But now . . .

"What should I do Connie? I mean it'd be bad if Scott were to return and find Hump moved in. And, then there's Marylou. She and Hump get along okay; she likes him well enough, but she is kinda on the fence because of me cheating on her dad."

"I see," said Connie.

"But well, she's young, and I was able to convince her that her dad wasn't losing anything and that me doing Hump was just meaningless recreation. I got lucky with that one. She essentially even told her dad that it was no big deal. But of course, Scott was not having any of that. He's written her off too," said Kendra.

"Oh my," said Connie

"Yes, Oh my for sure," said Kendra.

"Girl, you've got to get hubby and daughter back on speaking terms. If you can do that, you might be able to claim the role of good guy and get mister straight arrow to forgive and forget. But, ten to one, good 'ole Humphrey's gonna have to end up as collateral damage in this little tableau," said Connie.

"You know, I see what you're saying, and I think you may be right," said Kendra, "But I really don't want to lose Hump either," said Kendra.

"You may not have a choice, or, better said, you may have to make a choice.

"You should wait a little bit though. Give Scott a chance to cool off. Also, maybe if he gets horny enough, that might be another chip you could play," said Connie. Her companera smiled.

"Yes, actually that was one thought that I had already. The one thing I am sure of is that it won't be too long before his dick starts doing his thinking for him. He is a horny little toad.

"Okay, I will be doing a bunch of thinking on what you've said," said Kendra.

"Yes, do. I'd hate to see you two busted up. You've always been good together in spite of you always needing to play around on the side.

"Oh, and again, you might want to wait a while longer than the end of the week before you let Humpty move in with you, a month or two at the least. And, if Scott does pay the bills while he's out there amongst 'em, Hump shouldn't be moved in at all, if you get my meaning," said Connie.

******

"I don't know what to do Jacob. I need my dad, but he hates me," said Marylou.

The boy laughed. "Look, Marylou, you're what, eighteen. I'm just nineteen. We're k**s, at least to them, the adults. Heck you're still in high school. Look, the one thing I'm sure of is that your dad, really both our sets of parents, love us. Your dad will come around," he said.

She lazily played with his dick as it stuck out of his pants.

"You gonna do something with that or not," said Jacob. She smiled.

"You betcha," she said, She began to stroke him furiously. The spray painted the back seat of the ten year old Ford; some of the sticky white stuff even hit on the rear window.

He relaxed as she wiped his cock clean with the hand towel she'd brought with her.

She'd learned early on that her Jacob, her high school boyfriend, who was now a freshman at state, expected a handjob every time they went out. The towel was always with her anymore. She'd been more than happy to accommodate his need. That said, while she'd beat him off regularly, and while he'd been allowed to feel her up as much as he wanted; he had never gotten into her pants or seen her naked, not even her breasts; and he'd asked.

"We gotta go," she said as she zipped up his pants for him. He nodded and started the engine.

He was turning on to her street when he gave her an idea.

"What you need to do is to tell your dad that you need him. Let him know that he's the man not that Humphrey guy your mom is playing with," said Jacob.

"Yes, but how to do that. He won't talk to me?" she said.

"Yes, he will. Or, maybe you could get someone else to tell him how you feel. I mean if you want I'd do it for you," he said. She gave him a look.

You?" she said.

"I can do it. I mean if you want," he said. She snickered, but then she didn't; she looked serious.

"I'll think about it," she said. And, she did.

******

"Yes, he left, and he's really upset. It's going to be a while before he's in a mood to even talk to me let alone return to our bed—his and mine," said Kendra.

"Jesus! How are you going to get on if he does divorce you?" said Humphrey Westmoreland.

"You get to move in and pay the bills for the foreseeable future," she said. He sighed.

"Okay, no problem. I can do that," he said.

"But, you will have to be picking up expenses right away when you do. Would that be all right?" she said. "You will be getting a lot more pussy than before though."

"Any chance of getting a little of that right now?" he said.

"Why I do think that I just might be able to accommodate you," she said. "Why don't you come over her and undress me."

He moved to her and let his hands wander down the length of her arms. He gently cupped her breasts and felt his interest grow exponentially in his pants. His eight-inch heat-seeking moisture missile was harder than steel.

He kissed her while at the same time unzipping her dress letting it fall to the floor. He unhooked her bra slipping it from her shoulder and letting it join her dress at her feet.

He left her panties alone for the moment while stripping himself naked with as little ceremony as possible. He knelt in front of her and sniffed her femaleness through her panties. God, she was a sexy woman, he thought. Her husband had to be nuts leaving her regardless of her playing around on him.

He peeled her panties down and off. Her bald and beautiful mound and its intoxicating slit at eye-level in front of him. He kissed it. He licked and sucked on it. She mooed her feelings as he worked her to her first orgasm, small though the first one was.

He pulled her down on the floor beside him. Pushing his knee between her legs he spread her wide enough to mount her. He slid into her easily. He began screwing her slowly. He wanted to enjoy the incredible feeling that this woman's body was capable of delivering.

"Get with it, big boy," she said. "I need to cum too. Okay!" she said. He began to speed up. Drilling her for all he was worth. It took him some minutes, but she finally began to buck and growl and blow bubbles from her mouth, sputtering and muttering and "cuuummmiiinnnggg!"

He stiffened as the death throes of his own orgasm gave way to indescribable relief. He rolled off of her and lay panting and gasping for breath.

"You made it," he said. It was not a question.

"Yes, finally," she said. "I needed that, especially after what my erstwhile hubby did to me the other night. I mean leaving me and Marylou high and dry like that"

"So, Marylou will be staying with us," he said, "not him, I mean if and when I do move in."

"Yes, he kinda dumped her when she wouldn't condemn me for having you on the side. The k** doesn't know what hit her, not yet at any rate," she said.

"She will," he said.

"Yes, and it won't be pretty, not for him and not for her either," she said. He nodded.

******

The Rockville Lodge was cheap, close to work, and had the added benefit of being next door to the Wild Horse Bar and Grill. The bar part was especially of interest to me under the circumstances. I needed to drink, I needed to drink a lot.

My daughter's siding with her mother, and more, expecting me at the least to deal with it by ignoring it, had hurt me bad, really bad. Now, I was alone. No family, no girlfriend, birth family a state ways geographically: yeah, I was alone all right. I went to work every day, claimed my seat at the Wild Horse every night, and slept. Except for eating that was pretty much my entire life at the moment. I wondered how Kendra was going to view me not divorcing her immediately as I had pretty much intimated that I would. Probably thought that I might be opting to follow her dictum, that I had to leave but just until I got my head on straight about her screwing mister Westmoreland. That she would have been wrong to so believe or think notwithstanding, I was going to be totally absent regardless and unreachable by her if indeed she even made the effort to try and contact me.

I was of the opinion, unexpressed it is true, that at some point she would be coming to me to pay the bills. That is, if she didn't go the divorce route herself and get the courts involved in that little ditty.

And Marylou, my daughter? I would speak to her if she came to me, but she would have to abandon her mother as she had essentially abandoned me if she expected a positive—for her—result. I would not be my wife's willing cuckold under any circumstances.

And then, it was six months after the split; and, I did get the visit. But that from neither Marylou nor her mother. No indeed, I got it from mister Westmoreland.

It was Saturday Morning. I did have to go to work. I was subbing for Grant Shuler my partner in crime at the shop. He'd gotten married the week before to one Carrie Snodgrass, and wanted to do the honeymoon thing if it was all right with me. It was.

The knock on the apartment door, as I got ready for work, caught me mid-bite into my toast and cream cheese. I got up to answer it, the knock.

"Yes?" I said, to the well-built, dark-haired, and tallish man staring down at me.

"Mister Nelson?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"I'm Humphrey Westmoreland," he said. I slammed the door in his face.

He knocked again, paused, knocked again. I opened the door once more.

"Get away from here asshole. I have nothing to say to you," I said.

"Your daughter sent me, not your wife," he said. He'd stopped me with that one.

"My daughter?" I said. "Tell her to come her herself if she wants to talk."

"Look, give me a couple of minutes of your time, and I will be outta your hair. Please," he said.

It'd been months since my leaving, and I did have to admit to a degree curiosity if nothing else.

I didn't respond to his request, but I did head back inside leaving the front door open. He followed me in closing the door behind him. I took a seat at the little utility table the lodge afforded and nodded toward the seat across from me for him to sit. He did.

"I guess you hate me," he said.

"Yep," I said. He nodded.

"I understand," he said.

"No you don't. If you did, you wouldn't be fucking my wife," I said.

"Mister Nelson, Yes, your wife and I do have a thing going, but it's not love nor is it likely to ever be. I guess you could say we're friends with benefits who never do anything together but the deed. We never go out, in the sense of just having fun, like dancing or bowling or whatever; all we do is, well, fuck," he said. I'm just recreation," he said.

"Get to it, Westmoreland, what are you here for? You mentioned my daughter." I said.

"Mister Nelson, Marylou, misses you. She has cried every night since you left. Your wife and I are hoping you'd be willing to mend your fences with her. Kendra, your wife, wants you to come back to the house. I've been staying there these past three months paying the bills that you should be paying, I understand your anger and your reasons for doing what you're doing. But, frankly sir, you have no right to treat your daughter as if she didn't exist. She's still just a k**. And, she needs her daddy," he said.

"Hah," I said. "Your paramour, mister Westmoreland, told me that she didn't want me around unless I was okay with her doing you. Said she didn't want a wet blanket, like she was sure I would be, hanging around being a downer all of the time. And, she was right, I would have been one helluva wet blanket and that I can guarantee you, sir!"

"Yes, she told me that she said that to you. But, she's changed her mind. She told me to tell you that you should come home, wet blanket and all. I guess you could say she is trying to come to a compromise with you," said Humphrey.

"But, you and her will still be doing the dirty, right?" I said. "And that in my house, right?"

"Yes, to the first; no to the second. We would be doing it but not in your house. What I'm saying is that she is no longer insisting that you be okay with it," he said. "She realizes that that was asking too much of you. In fact I told her as much myself."

"Damn white of you," I said. "But, no, so long as she continues to cheat on me there is no hope of us getting by this mess. I require a one man woman who actually loves me boring in bed and all."

"No way to get you to reconsider?" he said. "And she does love you as I mentioned before. And, she is in point of fact a one man woman in the true meaning of the term. I'm just recreation like I said. We have fun. There is no commitment or psychological investment in our relationship, if it even is a relationship."

"No, I will not reconsider unless my conditions are met, and maybe not even then given what's gone on so far. But, you can tell Marylou that she can come live with me if she can bring herself to break away from you and the whore," I said.

"Okay, I tried," he said. "Just please think about some of the things that I said. You'd be well advised to do so, really." I closed the door behind him as he left and leaned back against it. And, then I had another visitor, two days after Westmoreland's.

******

I began to wonder if there might be some kind of conspiracy in the works to brainwash me and get me to accept my wife's terms. But, with Westmoreland's gambit history, I figured that all hope of any kind—on the part of my wife— of reconciliation between her and me was at an end. Boy was I wrong. And my next visitor, well, I was forced by nature to take a little more seriously.

"Hi dad," said Marylou.

I jumped. "Marylou! You startled me," I said. I had been working on a transmission when she made her appearance at mid-day.

"Got time for lunch, dad?" she said. She looked hopeful. I did not answer her right away. I scooped some hand goop out of the can and started cleaning the grime off my appendages. I stared at her as I wound my hands together in my at best but partially successful efforts.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. My tone was level, not negative, but merely level, noncommittal. She tendered me a wan smile. I dried off my hands and headed back inside to grab my coat. She waited for me. She knew what I was doing; she'd been to the shop many times in the past.

It'd been more than six months since the last time I'd seen her and during that lengthy period I'd heard not a word from her. Now I had. I had to believe that Westmoreland might have had a hand in that, but who knew.

I went over to Grant's bay, where he was doing a tune up on an old Chevy, and let him know I was going to lunch. He glanced in the direction that I did and saw with who; he gave me a thumbs up. Millie the shop secretary and Grant were the only ones still around when we left. The rest of the crew and Millie's assistant were already gone to the café down the street: the sometime lunch venue for our crew. I decided I didn't want a lot of questions from my fellow workers when I got back: I had her drive to the Denny's on Maple: we'd be anonymous there.

"Nice ride," I said. "Your momma buy it for you?" She tendered me a quizzical look.

"Huh?"

"New Corvettes don't come cheap. So?" I said.

"No, Humphrey bought it for me," she said. I think she was feeling a little embarrassed by her display of opulence.

"Hmm, nice of him," I said. My voice didn't quite sound accusatory. She didn't respond.

We pulled into the parking lot, got out and headed for the entrance. She walked slightly ahead of me. I noticed for the first time that she was dressed kind of nicely, expensively. She reminded me of the very model of the spoiled rich k**; a good looking rich k** by the way; well, she was my daughter. Whatever, all said and done, she sure as hell didn't look like the daughter of a workaday auto-mech.

The table we were escorted to was in the middle of the pack. The place was crowded; well, it was lunch hour.

I ordered a patty melt; she ordered a salad. I had to smile. The girl I used to know, or thought I knew, would have ordered a burger. I smiled at the thought.

Iced teas in front of us, she gave me the most condescending of looks I'd ever gotten from her.

"Dad, you have to go back and see mom. You just do," she said. "She talks about you almost every day. Frankly, Humphrey has told her to shut up more than once. Dad, she loves you, not him. He gets her off, but you make her day—or used to. Yes, she's selfish and she wants both things. Humphrey's easy and willing to agree to her plan. It's only you who is being so hard to get along with."

"Daughter dearest, are you actually so contemptuous of me to believe that you can come to me, after all that has gone down, and treat me like a little k** who doesn't know anything? Tell, me, I'd really like to know what your condescending attitude is based on," I said.

"Dad, I didn't mean . . ."

"Marylou, do you have any idea how ridiculous and odd and strange and frankly unrealistic you sound. Nobody, no husband is going to put up with being his wife's willing cuckold! None! But, she expects me to be just exactly that, and apparently, so do you!" I said.

She sighed. "Actually, I don't expect you to. It's clear to me that you are just too old fashioned to give in to her. Still, I had to give it the old college try. Oh, and you do know I started college this past quarter, right?"

"Didn't get the email. But, I knew you probably had," I said. She had the decency to look at least a little bit guilty.

"Yeah, I guess communication from our end has been kinda not forthcoming—oh—and neither has it been from your end," she said, looking more than satisfied with her retort.

"It's not me that wants to bring a cheating asshole into the family," I said. "Of course, he's apparently done a good job of buying you off."

"What the . . .!"

"That Vette out there for one thing," I said, more than logically.

"Huh? You think that . . ." she started.

"I think that the ten year old Mazda I would have given you, and kept in mechanically tight condition by the way, would have paled into insignificance compared to what mister rich man has your pretty pink ass riding in," I said.

"Mazda? What?" she said.

"It's at the shop. You know I keep it in primo shape all of the time in case you decide to come live with your dad. You know the one who isn't cheating on his spouse," I said.

She gave me a hard look. "I'm staying at the college dad, not with them. But, I'm there a lot mostly to help mom keep it together," she said.

"Keep it together?" I said.

"Yes, she can't get over you leaving her like that. She needs you dad. She wants Hump, but needs you. Hump's okay, but he's almost totally devoid of sensitivity. You on the other hand are 'mister' sensitive. Mom needs you. I need you," she said.

"Maybe, but not enough to shuck mister new guy," I said.

"Dad you are such a pain sometimes," she said.

"I plead guilty," I said. "But, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Daddy, please think about coming home. Please! Okay?" she said.

I looked at her and tried to gauge the sincerity of her request. "Maybe," I said.

"At least you didn't just blow me off," she said.

"Anyway, old Hump baby's moved in with her then? I mean full time?" I said.

"Yes," she said, "recently. He's paying the bills you should be paying."

"Should be? Not while he's getting into her pants," I said.

"Daddy! You are so darned old fashioned!" said my daughter.

"You got that right," I said. "Oh yeah."

The food having come, we talked a little longer, and I was able to get a pretty good picture of life at the other Nelson residence. It seemed as though, as Marylou described it, that good 'ole Humphrey and my wife were living in a business arrangement: polite interaction most of the time with occasional bouts of out of control passion. Marylou's position was analogous to a prized worker who made the company look good but was not necessarily indispensable.

******

The Wild Horse was more than a bar to me; it was place of refuge. For the first several months after the split I was more or less a solitary soul drinking, watching the dancers, occasionally talking to this or that bartender that deigned to notice my solitariness. But, then I met someone who kinda gave me a push: got me to get involved with other barflies, some of whom were women.

My inspiration was Jade Starling, and yes that was her working girl moniker: I'd learn later, much later, that her real name was Larissa Grey. Jade's day off was also Saturday, said it made her feel human to be out and about with the morally upright public. We talked a little as bar flies often do, but not about anything serious. I never asked her anything personal and she never asked me either. It worked for us. Hence, I didn't know she was a working girl, well, not right away. Then, I did.

It was late and I found her sitting on the ground, leaning back against her car, crying.

"Jade?" I said. "Can I help?"

"Huh?" she said.

"Can I help?" I said.

"My car is broken again. No one will talk to me let alone help me. Not out here on the parking lot," she said.

"Not out here? Your car is broken?" I said.

"No guy wants to be seen with a working girl out here: 'decent' people might get the wrong idea," she said, about as sardonically as I'd ever heard anyone say anything.

"Working girl? You're a . . ." I started.

"A whore for pay. Yes, I am," she said, almost fiercely.

"Well, I'll help you. Got a key?" I said.

"I don't work on Saturdays," she said. Her meaning was clear: I wasn't getting any tonight if that was what I was thinking.

"No-no, I wasn't looking for, well, you know. But, I do know something about cars," I said. "Your keys?"

She handed me her key ring. She'd been clutching it in her fist.

"You'll need to move, Jade, so I can get at the hood release inside," I said. She took on a sheepish look, but she rose, stood, and stepped aside.

I popped the hood and used my own key-ring flashlight to get a look under the hood. I saw the problem right away. I smiled.

"Your battery's dead," I said.

"Huh? It can't be. I've only had it a month, it's a new battery," she said.

"Yes, but your alternator belt is gone and you've been running on battery power alone, probably for the last day or two and not getting the recharge on it, the battery; and now it's dead. It's an easy fix and not expensive.

"Come on, I'll take you home and come back in the A.M. and fix it for you. How's that," I said. She gave me a look that spelled suspicion.

"No-no, Jade, I'm not on the make. Not tonight. But, it's late, and I don't want to be going back to the shop to get all of this done now. I'll do it tomorrow; I promise. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, but how do you know so much about cars?" she said.

"I'm a mechanic, Jade. But frankly, any teenage boy might have seen the same thing I found when I looked under your hood. It's really not a biggee, but I need to get a belt, a few tools and have the time and the light of day to do the job easy. I hate working on cars in the dark.

"A mechanic. You never told me that," she said.

"No, I don't wanna hear a ton of stuff about what went wrong with everyone's car when I'm out at night, so I never say anything about my job. You're a special case: a damsel in distress," I said.

"Hmm," she said.

I took her home and kept her ignition key: I'd need it in the morning to get her car. I'd let her know that I'd have her wheels back to her by noon the next day. Grant would be helping me out to deliver the car. She was tentatively grateful, I guess is the way I would have to have described her attitude when I left with her keys.

******

I was back the next day to fix and pick up Jade's car with Grant driving chase in his Silverado.

I charged her $26, my cost, for the fan belt and no labor. She was effusive in her gratitude. I guess I passed muster as a friend. And no, she didn't offer to screw me for the price of the fan belt, not that I would have turned down the offer; she was a looker for sure.

"Nice looking' chick," said Grant as he drove us back to the shop.

"Yes, yes, she is," I said.

"You figurin' on making a move on her. I mean in view of your domestic situation?" said Grant. I gave him a look.

"I don't know, maybe. She's a working girl, so, like I say; I don't know for sure," I said. Now I got the look.

"A whore! A whore for pay?" he said.

"Yeah, it's what she told me," I said.

"And you didn't get a freebie for saving her?" he said.

"No, no freebie. I'm not into taking advantage of women," I said. Grant snickered.

"Really," he said, " a sweet piece like her. You might wanna consider lowering her moral standards a tiny bit."

"Yeah maybe, if I wasn't still married," I said. He looked me askance.

"You saying you'd be willing to get back with Kendra after she did you like she did?" said Grant.

"Don't know. Maybe. We've been together for a long time. Except for her cheating on me this one time, I mean with this one guy, she's been a good wife to me," I said.

"Hmm, yeah, well, you're a stronger man than I am, dude. I'd never be able to get around the stuff you said she was doin' to you or sayin' to yuh," he said. "Not ever, and I'd be needin' some surgery to get my foot outta her ass."

We talked a little longer, until we got back to the shop. It occurred to me that he might have been right about me getting a little from Jade. I sure as hell was horny, not having gotten any since I broke up with Kendra. And, Kendra must've been thinking about that too, maybe figuring that I'd get desperate enough to give in. Well, she was wrong at least as far as she was concerned.

******

They still hadn't assigned me my own personal seat at the bar, figured that had to be close to happening given how many hours I spent there; but I was usually well received by the other barflies.

I'd just arrived and she was there, Jade. Well, I was a little later than usual: Grant had asked me to help him with some heavy lifting, that he had going, putting an engine head back in a car.

"How's it goin'," I said.

"Oh, hi, Scott. Good. You?" she said.

"Now I see you, I'm good too," I said, smiling. She smiled.

"Really. The sight of me makes you happy?" she said.

"Absolutely," I said. "Got time for a drink?" I said. She gave me a look.

"You know I'm working, right?" she said.

"Figured, but that doesn't answer my question?"

"Yes, sure," she said. "I always have time for my favorite mechanic." My turn to give her a look.

We took seats at one of the tables along the far wall.

"So, whaddya want to talk about?" she said. Now I had to think, something I hadn't done; I'd just seen her and decided that I wanted to talk to her.

"How about you letting me be one of your clients for the night?" I blurted.

I'm not sure if it was her or me that was the most surprised by my words. My red face—I could feel myself flush—tilted the answer to that little mystery in my direction, I was sure.

Jade laughed. "Really stud? Do you know how much I charge for an evening of my time."

"Look, you have a business to run, and I'm as horny as a goat. So this little extra ditty I have going tonight would rightly necessitate purchasing your professional services. But, to answer your question: no I don't know how much you charge for an evening," I said. She snickered.

"Okay. I'm a flat hundred an hour. Or, if the guy wants the whole night a flat five hundred. But—seeing's how it's you—I can maybe see my way clear to allow a twenty percent discount," she said. I could see in her eyes that she thought she was beyond my reach financially.

I smiled. "Okay, done," I said. "For the night and no discount required."

"Really?" she said. She was clearly surprised.

"Yes, really," I said.

******

Her place was small, really small, but I got the tour. In the back was a bedroom, maybe 12X6 featuring a small twin bed and a really little closet jammed somehow into the wall; while toward the front of the apartment; and at the end of a twelve foot long hallway was a combo dinette-kitchenette, that measured also maybe 12X6. It served as an all-purpose room whose only furniture was a small table with but two serviceable chairs. Oh, and separating the two rooms so far mentioned, and located in the middle of the narrow hallway, was the tiny bathroom. There was no front room per se or receiving area.

"Kinda small for a woman isn't it?" I said, as we reentered the dinette.

"Yes, but it's only $250 a month including lights and water. What can I say; I can afford it," she said. I nodded. Clearly work as a part time lady of the evening wasn't all that highly paid.

"Why don't you have a seat for a few while I change," she said. I did and she did. She returned in less than five minutes. A record for a woman, I guessed. Well, she was a pro.

It was a warm evening, and that was fortunate because what she was wearing was suitable for no other climatic condition: a very sheer yellow teddy with nothing under it, and six-inch heels that sparkled in the light of the ceiling lights constituted the totality of her ensemble.

I stood and took her in my arms. I had her for the night and I was going to use her the whole fucking time; or, at least until I ran out of spunk and energy.

She pushed me back and knelt in front of me. Her fingers traced the outline of my absolutely "in pain" penis and ball sack. "We need to get the first one out of the way so you can last a little bit. Okay?" she said. I nodded and slipped out of my loafers.

"You're the boss," I said. "Command me." She undid my belt and undid my pants pulling them floorward. I underpants followed. I stepped out of both. My button-down and my socks were all that remained. She took hold of my cock and stroked it for some few minutes. I stiffened and she aimed the spray toward the kitchenette floor. My dick shrank back into my body. But, as it happened, that was only a temporary situation. She immediately began sucking on my member. I was hard again in no time.

"Time for you to do me," she said. "What's your favorite position?"

"I guess missionary," I said. "I like the woman with her legs splayed wide waiting to get it."

"Let's go in the back and do it there then," she said.

She lay back on the bed and spread for me. She was absolutely beautiful and I could have willingly spent the whole night just sitting next to her and adoring her. A woman, who wants to, can make a man—any man—her slave without a whole lot of effort. I was living testimony to that little reality.

I undid my shirt and tossed it. I lay on top of her and kissed her and gloried in the feeling of her tits against my chest.

"Do me," she said. "Do me now."

"Yes, ma'am" I said. I loomed above her and lowered myself to where my cock was touching her slit. I pressed forward and after but minimal resistance, her pathway opened to receive me. I pushed and pulled a few times gaining increased penetration with each effort. Finally I was able to thrust myself into her to the hilt. I relaxed for a short moment and began screwing her.

She smiled as I labored as the male of the species was meant to labor in doing the female. She pulled her knees back to her shoulders and held them there with her hands allowing me to go deeper into her. I felt myself cumming. I began to thrust furiously in and out of her hoping to bring her off. She banged back at me meeting me thrust for thrust. She stiffened as I unloaded a quart of cum inside of her. Two loads down.

I rolled off of her.

"So far so good, sailor," she said. "I actually had a small orgasm there at the end. It's hard for a man to get a woman off, and you seem to have the knack for it. You'll need a little more practice to really do a good job, but not bad for a first time with a new, new to you, woman.

"Thanks, I think," I said.

"Over the next two hours I had her two more times: once again, missionary and once doggy. She had one more minor cum in my last try. Exhausted we slept. I awoke to a very practiced blowjob. I lay still and let her get me hard.

Hard, I rolled on top of her and took her one last time. My penis would ache for hours, but what the hell.

We were both quiet for some little time. She broke the silence.

"So, was I worth it?" she said.

"You bet," I said, as sincerely as I ever said anything. "I just hope you didn't find me as big a loser as my wife has. You know, boring."

"No, no, you were fine. You could improve, and you will; but, in the final analysis, you were quite acceptable," she said. "Certainly not boring."

We showered together and went down to the corner to the IHOP for breakfast. I handed her the money and informed her that breakfast was on her.

"It's all I've got on me," I said. It was five hundred dollars: my rent payment was going to be two weeks late. She laughed.

"Okay, fair enough," she said. We ate. She paid, and we kissed each other goodbye for the moment.

******

"And how did you come about this little piece of information, Connie," said Kendra.

"I saw them together, at the Wild Horse" said Connie. Kendra sneered.

"So, my moralistic 'one woman man' is playing on the side too," said Kendra. "Makes one wonder for sure."

"Yeah, I guess," said Connie. "Whaddya gonna do"

"Not sure, this is so off the charts. But, the woman better not be thinking of bein' around too long. I won't stand for another woman that I do not approve of being anywhere near my man," she said. The hypocrisy of her words did not register with either of the two friends.

******

She watched the other woman from a table across the room, a stem glass of white wine on the table in front of her. The woman being watched was clearly plying her wares. Kendra Nelson smiled; well, it was amusing: her husband was bedding a prostitute. A dozen thoughts, half formed plans, and images of revenge gamboled in her head. She would bring this craziness of his to a screeching conclusion. He was hers, not some gold digging whore's!

Just as she was about to get up and leave—well, she'd seen enough—the whore scored. She was heading out walking arm in arm with some young stud who in any other setting would have been thought to be u******e. Hell, he still might be, thought Kendra. That might be the icing on the cake that she was figuratively about to bake.

She followed the couple out. She needed to know where they would perform their little impromptu assignation.

His pickup carried them to the Blue Moon motel about a mile from the bar. They parked in front. The young man went into the office and paid for a room. The woman, the whore, waited in the car.

He came out and signaled to his date to follow him. The woman got out and caught up to him. They locked arms and headed for a room at the back of the complex. Kendra noted the room number and made the call.

It took ten minutes for the two city vehicles, one a black and white and one not, to arrive.

The driver of the unmarked vehicle came toward her car. "Hi Ken," the cheap suit said to her.

"Hello Barry," she said. "They're in room 19." She nodded in the direction of the indicated room. The cop smiled.

"Long time no see and now you call me to pin a whore," said Barry Monroe. "I mean I haven't seen you since the reunion."

"Yes, that's true," said Kendra. "More's the pity. And yes, I am trying to get that piece of public ass off the streets. She's been messing with my husband. I want to put an end to their dalliances."

"I see. Well, since it's you asking I'll arrest her, but she'll likely make bail by tomorrow. You do know that," he said. "You sure you've got a video of him handing her the money?"

"Yes," she said.

"Good, I'm going to need it to make the arrest stick. Okay," he said.

"Yes, of course. It's here on my cell. Just get the phone back to me when you're done. Okay?" she said, as she handed him her iphone.

"You got it," he said. "You sticking around to see the next act of this little show?" he said.

"Yes, but from a distance. I'm not quite ready to let my husband in the know about this stuff. That'll be at a time of my choosing," she said.

He headed back to where the black and white was parked more or less unobtrusively at the rear of the lot.

She watched as her friend talked to the uniforms. They, the uniforms, exited their vehicle, went up to door 19, knocked once, announced that they were cops, and entered. Kendra smiled when she heard the woman inside scream. She made a note to have Sergeant Barry Monroe over for dinner or a barbecue, something.

******

I got the call at 9:00AM. It was from Jade.

"You're where" I said.

"Scott, I'm in jail downtown," she said.

"For what" I said, knowing full well what it had to be for.

"Soliciting," She said. I went silent for a long moment.

"Scott?" she said.

"Sorry, Jade, I was thinking. I will be down to post your bail as soon as they will allow," I said. I had assumed that was why she called; no, make that I knew it was why she called.

"Thank you Scott. I really do thank you," she said. We talked for another minute. I got the information from her that I needed to find her and to post her bail.

"No problem. I'll be down within the hour," I said. And, I was there, and I was told that she was going to be arraigned that evening in night court. I decided to hang around. Her group was brought in a little past 8:00PM. The judge sounded the gavel in her case, and that to the tune of five-thousand dollars cash or bond. The bondsman was there, and I paid the ten percent that was required and she was released. We went to Denny's.

I was having trouble digesting the idea that a cop would bother with the paperwork to arrest a part time lady of the evening.

"How did this happen?" I said after our coffees had been served.

"I don't know. I met a man—well—I met a young man; and he asked me how much. I told him and he paid me and he said let's go and we did and we were in the motel room and then the police came, and they took me in," she said, and she said all that in one breath.

"And the young man?" I said.

"They let him go," she said. He was a sailor.

"What! They let the man go!" I said.

"Yes. He was a sailor. I think that's why they let him go," she said. I was seething. This girl should not have been arrested if they were going to let the guy go, sailor or not.

We talked for another hour before we parted and went home to our separate places of residence.

******

I came through the front door at the house, my old home. I could hear her; she was on the phone with her friend Connie. I'd come to talk to her, as Marylou had asked me to. The timing was unbelievable.

"No Connie, he hasn't got a clue. How could he. He doesn't know Barry . . . No, no, no I went to school with Barry, not Scott . . . Yeah oh . . . That little strumpet won't be chasing after my personal wimp of a husband anymore . . . A few days in the can will make her persona non grata with Scott for sure . . ."

I couldn't believe it, but my own wife had apparently caused Jade to get arrested; that was the only possible conclusion to be drawn. What she was saying could not mean anything else. I was furious, and I was about to take her arrogance out of her hide—wasn't I? But, then I had a brainstorm. Oh yeah, I knew how I was going to handle this situation.

I made some noise, announced my presence. I heard her hang up.

"Scott! You're here! I am so glad to see you." She said, kissing me sweetly. I smiled and kissed her back.

"Yes, I'm here. A while back I talked to Marylou. I told her I'd think about coming back. So here I am," I said. "Where's Hump?"

"He's at work. Scott, he's been staying here," she said.

"Yes, I know, Marylou told me," I said. "I've no problem with that anymore. Marylou convinced me that I was being old fashioned. That I needed to be, well, a little less puritanical. You know like you, you guys," I said. She gave me a look that spelled suspicion.

"Okay, good. Yes, very good," she said. I almost laughed at her clear state of confusion, but, I didn't. We fell into a state of uncomfortable silence.

"We have some problems maybe to iron out," she said, in a pleading tone of voice.

"Yes, we do. If I may," I said, indicating that I would like to take the lead.

"Yes, I would appreciate it," she said, clearly relieved.

"You've been sleeping with a man not your husband that, until now, I have viscerally hated . . . "

"Scott, please," she said.

"But—not anymore. I'm not going to pretend that I like what you two are doing, but that said, after much thought; I have come to the conclusion that you do love me. And, I hasten to add, that I wouldn't be here if I didn't still love you," I said.

"Wait, wait. You don't hate Humphrey?" she said.

"Well, he's never going to be my best friend, but no, I do not hate him per se," I said. She let out long sigh.

"Thank God!" she said. "Honey, we are going to be good. Really, all right."

"That's my hope," I said. She came to me and embraced me. The kissing and hugging went on for some little time.

"Let's go upstairs," she said.

We went into our room, well, the room that used to be hers and mine. I looked around. No sign of mister Westmoreland's things or any other evidence that he had shared the room. I said so.

"What, no picture of mister Westmoreland?" I said.

"No, I wouldn't let him sleep in our bed. We—well—we use the guest room down the hall. And, Scott, there is a picture of the two of us, he and I, in that room." she said. I nodded. I had to wonder but didn't ask if Marylou was in the picture. As bad as the two of them taking "love" pictures together was, it would have been totally unacceptable were Marylou to be included.

"Tonight you and I will share this bed," she said. I nodded once more.

"Okay," I said. "And, tomorrow night?"

"We'll play that by ear, but maybe tomorrow I'll stay with him." She nodded in the direction of the guest room down the hall.

"Okay," I said. "I think when you do that that I will be going out that night. Knowing what's going on down the hall will be kinda tough for me in the beginning. You okay with that?" She nodded.

"Yes, of course, I certainly am. You have a right to do whatever you need to do to make yourself comfortable, happy. Honeybear, that's what I have been trying to tell you and sell you and make you understand from the beginning," she said.

"Well, good," I said. "I guess I'm just a slow learner." She smiled indulgently.

The sex that night was truly wonderful. It almost made me change my plans, but no, I was staying the course.

******

"Are you crazy!" said Jade, looking right at me. I almost broke out laughing, but I didn't.

"Jade, this is the supreme 'get some of ours back idea. It can't fail. One: she will not know that we know that she was the one that got you busted. Two: she can't object to me having my girl at home because she has her boyfriend at home. Will it be uncomfortable? Not for us. For her maybe and for the Hump for sure," I said.

"Maybe, but what's in it for me in the long haul?" she said. "Okay, I embarrass her maybe. Maybe I get her to feel a little bad for what she did to another human being. But after that—what?" She'd stopped me. I hadn't thought much beyond the obvious.

"Jade. Maybe we—I—do need to rethink this little deal. Yeah-yeah-yeah. We don't need it.

"But, Jade . . ." I started. She smiled.

"Never mind, sweetie, I know where we're going even if you don't; and, as well what's in it for me. So, yes, set the wheels in motion. Your wife and I will be getting along just fine thank you very much," she said, and now she laughed outright.

"Okay, good, if you're sure," I said.

"I am. And since you and I will be living together, for whatever reason, I need to let you know something. My real name is Larissa, Larissa Grey," she said. I smiled. I'd never asked her if Jade had been a business name or not; it had never occurred to me. I felt a little embarrassed. I recovered.

"Pretty name," I said. "But, here for now, you'll be Jade. They don't need to be in the know about anything that they don't need to be in the know about." She nodded.

******

D-day was the Monday of the week after I'd moved back into the house. I'd intimated to Jade—Larissa—that it wouldn't be uncomfortable for me and her, but I'd been wrong. I was plenty uncomfortable! Jade, oddly, as I now believed, was not.

We heard them come in, Kendra and her lover. I'd left Jade in the den; I wanted to make her entrance as dramatic as possible, and to do that I had to set the stage.

"Hi honey," said Kendra, hanging her coat in the atrium and shivering to indicate the cold outside—well it was November in Rockville.

"Hi back atcha," I said. She looked me askance; the buoyancy in my voice evidently raising red flags. Humphrey too tendered me a sidelong glance.

"Honey?" she said. "Something going on?"

"Hmm, yes. I'd have to say yes," I said.

"Okay? So—what?" she said.

"Well, as you are well aware, I have long been, well, kinda less than happy with you and Hump; well, doing what you've been doing,"

"Honey, we've been over this. What Hump and I do, you know on the side . . ." she started.

"Yes, I know, and I accept your explanation, your position, now. It, what you've been doing, hasn't seemed to affect you and me. We've been good the two of us. My wife's smile bordered on the excited.

"I must say that I am so happy you've come to the place where you could say that," she said. "And I know it wasn't easy."

"No, no, it wasn't, but I'm there now," I said. Hump had a look on him that spelled suspicion.

"Can I ask . . ." said Hump.

"Yes, but let's go into the den, and maybe I can clarify some things. Okay?" I said. My ebullient attitude was almost over the top, but, they followed me.

I entered first with Kendra right behind me.

"Wha—who—huh!" she said.

"Kind of a surprise huh?" I said.

What—what's . . ." started Kendra

"Kendra, Humphrey, this is Jade, a friend. You know, like you two," I said. The looks I got from my wife and her boyfriend were so something that I almost broke out in hysterics. I didn't, but almost.

"Scott—I mean—what?" tried Kendra.

"Jade will be staying in the room next to Hump's. They can share the hall bathroom. It'll work out.

"I have discovered that you had a good idea having Hump stay here. So, well, I've kinda copied you," I said.

"But . . ." started Kendra. I feigned concern with her tone of voice.

"It's all right isn't it?' I said. "I mean you and Hump . . ."

"Uh—okay," she said. "I guess so. It's just so unexpected." Her tone of voice was not real positive, but the words were all I cared about for t