Fantasy Girl
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My Fantasy Girl Ch. 05 free porn video
I approached my neighborhood I began to think of some of the negatives related to the decisions I had made. If Melissa and I wound up in Pennsylvania I would have little face-to-face contact with my kids. I was sure they were mature enough to handle the ramifications of their parents’ divorce but I would have less impact on their future development. If we wound up in Atlanta I would have more contact with my kids but life would be tougher on Melissa. My co-workers all knew and liked Joan, it would be difficult for Melissa to be accepted.
And then there was our house, which would go to Joan. I would probably be able to afford a more expensive house some day but I doubted I’d ever have one I liked as much. It was a split level house, with a fourth level, a true cellar which the builder added at our request. It had four bedrooms on the top level including our master bedroom, the main level had a formal living room, a formal dining room and a large kitchen which overlooked the family room on the lower level. The lower level also had a playroom with a built-in wet bar and a pool table for which the builder located a ceiling light in the exact center of where the table would be placed. We put a table tennis table in the cellar, and I built some racks for wine storage. The temperature there was always between 60 and 65 degrees, perfect for wine storage.
Being the first ones in a new neighborhood, we chose the highest lot on a cul-de-sac. Even though our house had a lower profile than the two-story houses which were built after ours, our roof line was even with or above the others, creating a very pleasing look as one rode toward the cul-de-sac, what the realtors call curb appeal.
I thought about all this as I approached the house. It was about 8:30 on a Friday evening but I could see only one light on in our house, in the bedroom of one of the kids. Normally, they and some of their friends would be playing pool in the playroom, which faced the front of the house, right below the master bedroom. Both of these rooms were dark as was the living room which also faced the front.
I drove up the driveway on the far side of the house, then turned into the two-car carport. This was the only feature of the house I didn’t like. I would have preferred a garage but, even if we had modified the plan for a garage, it would have still been necessary to walk about ten feet on an exposed walkway to reach the enclosed back porch, which was behind the kitchen. This short walk was no fun during heavy rain storms.
I made my way through the porch to the back door, suitcase in one hand, attaché case in the other, and my raincoat draped over my shoulder. As one enters through this door, all the kitchen appliances are to the right, the casual dining table, where we ate virtually all our meals, is to the left and further to the left is the look-thru to the family room.
On this night the only light on in the kitchen or the family room was the little light in the vent above the cooktop. And right in front of me in the near-darkness was this beautiful creature!
I put my cases down and dropped the raincoat over one of the chairs.
‘You’re all dressed up. Were you just out, or were we supposed to go out?’
‘No. Can’t a woman dress up just for her husband?’
‘Well, of course! And you look very good, but where are the kids?’
‘They’re in their bedrooms. I told them not to come out.’
Joan looked beautiful. Her hair was shoulder length in soft cascading curls, she was wearing lipstick and light makeup on her face, and I could tell she had perfume on, Chanel No. 5. She had on one of several silk blouses she owned, a translucent white shade which just enabled you to make out the lines of her bra if you looked hard or she put her shoulders back. Her skirt was a slim, black number which ended about three inches above her knees. Neither the blouse nor the skirt was new, but I hadn’t seen her wear them in at least two years.
What’s happened? How long has it been since I’ve looked at her? She couldn’t have lost so much weight or grown out her hair in just a few days!
I know all this happened in just a couple of seconds, but I felt as if everything was occurring in slow motion. She was moving toward me, putting her arms around my neck, kissing me, extending her tongue into my mouth. She never kisses like this right out of the blue.
My penis, which obviously has a mind of its own, was getting hard, and she knew it as she pressed her body against me. Somehow, one of my hands found a resting place on her ass, which felt pretty good. It’s not a teenager’s ass like Melissa has, but it is firm, not the ass she had the last time I felt it.
‘Let’s go upstairs,’ she said as she disengaged her mouth from mine and took my hand.
The thought of taking my hand away, of saying no, of telling her I had made a decision just that day to leave her — none of these entered my mind. It also did not occur to me that making love to Joan would somehow be cheating on Melissa, since I had just made a total commitment to her.
Was I weak? Would I have gone up those steps with any reasonably decent-looking woman who wanted me? Or was this giving me the opportunity to rescind a hard decision I had made and replace it with the easy out of the status quo?
I don’t know, even now. What I do know is that I went willingly. Joan and I made love to one another for the first time in about a year.
We had sex several times over the weekend. It was not much different from what it had been in the past, but it was better simply knowing Joan really wanted it, as opposed to doing it occasionally just to verify that I still desired her, which was the feeling I often had in the past. She really does still love me!
On Sunday afternoon, away from the kids, she said, ‘Bob, I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know that something is seriously wrong. I want to see a counselor, I hope you’ll go with me but, with or without you, I’m going. I’ve gotten information on three different people.’ With that, she handed me three sheets of paper. ‘The first is a minister who specializes in family counseling, the second is a private family counselor, not affiliated with any religion, and the third is a regular psychiatrist, not a family counselor, though marriage problems are a large part of his practice.’
I looked over the resumes of the three counselors. ‘I’ll go with you,’ I said, ‘but only to the regular psychiatrist.’
‘I knew you’d say that. I’ve already made an appointment for Monday. I hope you’ll stay home and go with me.’
ME AND MY THERAPIST
Monday morning rolled around and nothing was as I had planned it. Instead of talking with my friend in the office I was talking with a psychiatrist. Instead of planning to divorce Joan and firm up my relationship with Melissa, I was thinking of firming up my relationship with Joan. I was in a quandary, two women were in love with me and I felt as if I was in love with both of them, an impossibility by my own definition.
Dr. Rogers (not his real name in case he still has an active practice) saw Joan and me together for about twenty minutes, then said he wanted to talk with us separately, Joan first. When they finished, he asked me to come into his office again.
I had barely sat down when he started in. ‘Alright, Bob. Don’t try to bullshit me! You’re having an affair and you’re driving Joan crazy because she has no idea you’re cheating on her.’
I’m sure my mouth was gaping open but he wasn’t waiting for a response. ‘Now you have two choices and I can work with you and Joan regardless of which way you go. But you have to make your decision now. If you want to stay with Joan, you must confess to her and ask her forgiveness, which I’m sure she will give you. If you want to go to the other woman, you must move out immediately, deny everything, and start divorce proceedings.’
I guess he could have been bluffing in conclud
ing so rapidly that I was having an affair, but I didn’t think so. I guessed that something in my body language gave me away when analyzed by an expert.
‘Do I have to make my decision immediately?’ In saying these words I confirmed his analysis.
‘There’s no reason for you to wait. If you think about it, you already know the answer.’
I was numb, my brain was in a whirl. This isn’t my style. I’m a deliberate thinker who likes to examine all sides of an issue before making a decision. He’s insisting I make one of the most important personal decisions of my life immediately.
Before this weekend this would have been an easy decision. But now I just don’t know. I think both women are in love with me so it’s my choice. If I give up Joan I also give up my life style, a seventeen year history, and my children for the most part. If I give up Melissa I give up the physical embodiment of the image I’ve carried with me all my life. I know what to expect if I stay with Joan but, although I know a lot about Melissa, she is still a question mark in many ways. Is that the choice? Is there more to it that I’m missing? After all, if I hadn’t thought Joan no longer loved me, I never would have started with Melissa. Perhaps I can try to repair things with Joan AND continue seeing Melissa, putting off the final decision. Of course, if I go to Melissa after confessing to Joan, the divorce will be ugly.
It was probably the fact that I’m pretty conservative and that I hated confrontation but sticking with what I knew won out over entering the unknown.
‘I want to stay with Joan.’
Dr. Rogers showed no emotion, no indication that he approved or disapproved of my decision. ‘Pick a time you won’t be interrupted, then tell Joan, beg her forgiveness, and answer any questions she has. I’m sure she’ll have some. If you have any photos or other memorabilia you must turn them over to Joan so she can destroy them.’
Joan and I made appointments for our next visits which would be as individuals, then we left.
RELATIONSHIPS COME, RELATIONSHIPS GO
Joan was shell-shocked when I told her I had an affair. As Dr. Rogers said, she had a lot of questions, everything from what’s her name and how tall is she (Joan knew me very well) to the biggie, WHY?
We talked for several hours, during which time I got in some of the reasons why: the lack of sex, her always being all covered up, her emphasis on the children and not on me, her unwillingness to improve her appearance, although she now looked great. She admitted she didn’t exercise or diet, but she had had very little appetite for the last several months, worrying had taken off the weight. As for her hair, she said she had let it grow out since Christmas. I just hadn’t noticed.
I went into the office Tuesday and called Melissa at noon. I didn’t want to tell her everything but I could not bring myself to tell her nothing, not on such an important matter.
‘I’ve had to change my schedule so I’m not coming up this week. I’m leaving for Canada this evening and will be there the rest of the week. The way it looks I won’t be back up there for several weeks.
Something happened this weekend I need to tell you about. Joan was waiting for me when I got home. She said she knew something was wrong and she wanted to try to fix it. She said she loved me, the first time she has said that in a year.’
After a long pause, ‘Did you have sex with her?’
‘Yes, I did.’ I could hear her sigh. I’m losing her. I shouldn’t have said anything, especially since I won’t see her for several weeks.
‘Melissa, this doesn’t change the fact that I love you. I’m just very confused. A few months ago, I felt sorry for myself because I didn’t think anyone loved me. Now I have two women in love with me.’
Another sigh, I could almost see the pain on her face.
‘It’s time for me to go eat lunch with Melanie. I’ll talk with you later.’ Melissa sounded so sad as she said this, and now I felt really bad. Why had I said all this to her and why had I let that doctor force me to choose immediately. I was beginning to believe that Melissa was lost for good.
I left for Canada and didn’t talk with Melissa for the rest of the week. I couldn’t call her at noon and I didn’t want to call in the evening when her parents would be right there.
The next time I went to Pennsylvania was the last week of April. I had talked with Melissa several times, but our conversations became increasingly labored and I was not able to lighten them. Finally, she said we should not see each other but I convinced her to wait until I was there and we could talk face-to-face.
I was pretty sure I had lost Melissa but there was something I wanted to say to her, even if she was gone for good. When I got to the airport for my early-bird flight I went to the gift shop and bought a small bottle of cologne. I picked out a southern scent, jasmine. I wanted to tell Melissa I knew she was tough enough to handle her problems, but I wanted her to remember she also had a soft, feminine side equal to any southern belle, and that is what she showed me throughout our time together. This gift was to remind her of her femininity. I also wanted to tell her I wanted to go on seeing her, with or without sex, while we considered our future.
When I got to my desk, it soon became obvious that things had changed. For starters, Melissa looked up at me briefly but she didn’t smile. She kept her face down when she was at her desk like she did when I first saw her, and when she went to a CSR’s desk she did not smile or talk with them. Finally, she was wearing jeans, the first time since our first date when I told her a dress was more feminine, and preferred on a date, that she had not worn a dress or skirt when I was there. She was making a statement that I was no longer special in her life.
I talked with her briefly at noon, finally convincing her to come to my room at 7pm to talk, no date, just a conversation. I told her I had a small gift for her.
I stayed at my desk until about 6:30 but I wasn’t able to accomplish much because I was so on edge. Finally, I went to my room and opened the front drapes so I could see when she pulled up. By 7:15 I was beginning to wonder if she was going to show, and that’s when she arrived. She parked at the street rather than driving up to the door of my room and when she got out I saw that she had two friends with her. They stayed in the car but their presence was a gigantic negative to me. She has no intention of giving me a chance to have a meaningful conversation with her. Does she have a posse with her for protection in case I get physical. She should know better than that — I would never hurt her physically. I was very upset at the turn of events.
I opened the door as she approached. ‘I’m sorry you brought others with you. You aren’t really going to give me a chance, are you?’
‘You said you had a gift for me.’ Her tone was frigid.
‘I had a little spiel I wanted to say as I gave this to you, but I can see it’s no use.’ With that I handed her the little box.
She opened it and saw what it was. ‘Jasmine! You really don’t know me at all!’
‘Yes, I do, but you’re not willing to listen to me so you may as well go.’ And, that quickly, she left.
I couldn’t eat. I just sat in my room feeling sorry for myself. I had really screwed things up. Finally I decided I would try talking with her at noon tomorrow.
The next day I went in about ten minutes late, like I always did. As I entered the customer service area, James Easterly, the manager, was waiting for me. Most of the CSRs were watching us. The nosy one was looking back and forth between us and Melissa’s office.
‘Hold up, Bob. Don’t go back to your desk. Melissa complained to me that you’ve been harassing her.’
‘What? No, we’ve been dating, I’m in love with her!’ I don’t know why I said that. There was no use dragging someone else int
o our drama. Now I understood James’ comment way back at his party when he cautioned the salesmen not to mess with Melissa. She could be tough and mean.
‘Well, I don’t know anything about your relationship with her but we cannot have a sexual harassment suit, so you have to find some other place to do your work. I’ve got the things from your desk here.’ He gave me a small box with the papers and supplies I kept in the desk.
I tried to call Melissa later, twice, but she hung up on me both times as soon as she recognized my voice. And that was the end of our affair. I had lost my living doll!
I looked at the month-at-a-glance booklet I carried with me on which I kept track of my schedule. Reviewing the past several months, I could tell that I saw Melissa nineteen times outside the office, including last night’s debacle. We made love on fourteen of those nights. How could I have fallen in love so quickly and how could it hurt so much to lose someone after such a short romance?
I only saw Melissa twice more and both of those occasions were painful.
The first of these was during final implementation of my project the third week of May. I planned to be there all week to help shepherd the changeover. Joan told me she wanted to go with me. I’m sure she discussed it with the therapist first and got his concurrence that seeing Melissa would somehow help her.
Her mother, who did not know what was going on, came up from Florida to stay with the kids. Joan and I drove up on Sunday to the Holiday Inn, the site of my first date with Melissa. Joan stayed at the motel Monday to relax, lying out by the pool.
Tuesday morning she rode in with me. She looked great, wearing a light weight sweater and a fitted skirt which showed off her now slim figure. I introduced her to the managers and the secretaries as we made the rounds of the various departments. Finally we reached customer service. We turned into James Easterly’s office and I looked out at the CSRs as he and Joan were talking. I concentrated on the nosy one who, as soon as she saw Joan, looked over toward Melissa. After Joan and James finished talking we headed for Melissa’s office as everyone followed us with their eyes.
‘Hello, Melissa. I’d like you to meet my wife, Joan.’ Melissa was at her desk with her head down. She just barely looked up as she mumbled a hello. Joan said, ‘Hello, Melissa. It’s so nice to meet you.’ I felt that saying ‘it’s so nice to meet you’ was being excessively mean because Joan’s tone made her true feelings rather obvious. Meanwhile, I stood there feeling very sorry for Melissa but, in some perverse way, I also felt very proud. Here I was, the kid who couldn’t even get a date in high school, with these two very attractive women that I had made love to.
When we got out in the hallway, Joan said, ‘She’s not very good looking, Bob. You could certainly do better.’
‘Don’t say that, you know it’s not true.’ Joan’s comment really bothered me. She was showing an uncharacteristic mean streak. ‘I’m with you for good. You don’t have to be cruel.’
I tried to call Melissa later that day to apologize for her having to go through that confrontation with Joan but she hung up on me before I had a chance to say anything.
Joan stayed at the Holiday Inn the rest of the week. Her desire to see her adversary had been satisfied.
A few weeks later, I went back to Pennsylvania for a follow-up visit and to turn in my final report. The conference room was being used one day so I wound up in the basement next to the rest rooms, where some old desks were stored. I was at one of the desks, having just come back from a meeting, when Melissa came out of the woman’s room. I quickly stood and positioned myself between her and the steps leading up to the offices.
‘Melissa, please let me talk to you.’
‘No, Bob. Just let me by.’
‘I know I’ve hurt you, but let me explain.’
Mara
- 06.03.2022
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