Talk of the Town

Sure, he had a fully grown male body. He had all the hormones and muscles necessary to be called a man in the eyes of the law. But that would be like calling a Boy Scout a soldier because they were both guys who wore uniforms.

A man in this situation, would step up and shoulder his responsibility. Even in the case where neither of us wanted to be together, a man would take care of his child. Calling or even insinuating that Brad was a man was an insult to my husband and men everywhere.

I had thrown away a lifetime of love with a MAN who worshiped me and supported my dreams, for some forgettable sex with a boy who at the first sign of trouble started crying for his mommy and looking for a way out of trouble.

He was brave enough to stick his dick into another man's wife, but not brave enough to accept the responsibility for his actions. Dennis had been man enough to put aside his anger at me long enough to make sure that his children were provided for. And after that he had made provisions for the possibility that the child was his. And thinking back on it, he'd been sad that the baby wasn't his.

Everything would have been so much better if the baby had been HIS. I knew for a fact that Brad would turn out to be a shitty father. Not only was he unprepared and unwilling to take on the role, he was unemployed and had no prospects. What the fuck had I been thinking?

And everyone seemed to be coming out of this situation well ... Except for me. Brad's girlfriend was pretty. She'd found out what a skunk he was and had quickly found a better man for herself.

Brad was seen by his friends as being some kind of stud. Chelsea, had seemingly become even closer with her dad, if that was possible. I could hear her telling her friends over the phone how much she loved his new house and how it was really HER house because he seemed to put everything she wanted in it. She had asked him for a pool and two weeks later they were building one.

Even Dennis had found something to throw himself into, trying to get over me. I didn't speak to him. He seemed to be avoiding me like I was a bad dream or something. Even when he dropped Chelsea off, he was gone before she stepped into the house. The only way I could tell he was there was by the sound of his rapidly receding exhaust note.

If I knew what was good for me, I would just have the procedure done and try to get my husband back. The funny thing about it is that despite the DNA results, I had the feeling that this WAS Dennis' child. And for that reason alone I had to carry it. I knew that Dennis would love this baby as much as he had the others. That thought refused to leave my mind. But I didn't dare tell anyone.

And that was a big part of my problem. I doubted everything I did because recent events had proven that I had no idea what was good for me. My fling with Brad and what it cost me proved that.

* * * * * *

Jaime

There I was hiking one of my favorite trails. It was another of those rare fall days. The leaves had changed into their awesomely beautiful fall colors. It was a wonderful day. And I had a sneaky secret. A few days ago after a hike, I'd used Dennis' hot tub.

My legs had been aching after a particularly difficult hike. I'd noticed that he was going somewhere as I pulled in. So I'd hopped the fence into his yard. The pool was beautiful. The grass around the fake stone tiles was soft and comforting.

I climbed the beveled wood of the stairs to the deck. The wood felt good under my bare feet. It was obvious that Dennis had lovingly picked out everything in this yard with comfort in mind.

I looked around in every direction. The tub was already on. I began to wonder exactly how stealthy I was. Did Dennis somehow know what I was up to? Or was he getting ready for another visit?

The thought of Dennis dragging another woman over here to enjoy his yard with him made me feel something I had never felt before. I think it was jealousy.

I kicked one of my long legs over the side of the tub. The water caressed my skin like a liquid glove. It wasn't hot; it was just warm. It was like some sort of comforting blanket of moisture. I sighed as the water covered me up to my shoulders leaving only my head out.

My aching back, legs, and shoulders all cried out in unexpected pleasure. Aches in places that I didn't know were sore suddenly thanked me as my entire body relaxed.

I knew then that I would be using this tub a lot. I did feel guilty about not calling Dennis to tell him that I was doing it. I felt like an asshole for abusing his ... His what? For a moment, I had almost forgotten that Dennis was a man. He was no different from the rest of them. They always wanted something, and they were never honest about it.

Then I heard it. I looked at my watch. I swear I had just gotten into the tub, but somehow more than an hour had passed. That fucking tub must have been a time machine. I heard the distinctive sound of the exhaust system Dennis had in his Mustang. I jumped out of the tub and didn't bother trying to use my towel. I just grabbed it and ran down the steps. I used one of the trash cans as a launching platform and shinnied over the top of the fence between our yards just as Dennis pulled into the driveway.

I ran up my stairs trailing drops of water with every step. I ran into my room and looked down into his backyard. And there I saw it. As I've said before men are extremely loathsome creatures. A part of me really wanted him to be different. But, then again, no one could be as nice as he seemed to be.

I mean no one is perfect. We all have our skeletons in the closet. Now I knew what Dennis was covering up. I also knew why he needed the high privacy fence.

Dennis pulled his high-powered Mustang into the yard, and the fence closed behind him obscuring his car from prying eyes. His garage door opened automatically, and he pulled the car inside of it.

Away from almost any possible onlookers, Saint Dennis got out of his car with not one but two very young women. They were all laughing and joking as they went into his house. My blood seethed as I watched him. A part of me was relieved, but another part died. I guess, deep down, I really did want him to be different.

Twenty minutes later, the two women, girls really came out onto his deck. They obviously wanted to show off for Dennis. They were both wearing swim suits. The two girls couldn't have been more different. One had brown hair; the other was a blonde.

The one with the brown hair was slimmer. Her body was nice but as I said on the slim side. She looked as if she was only seventeen or eighteen and due for a growth spurt. Her friend, on the other hand, was gifted.

The blonde was taller than her friend and very curvy. Her boobs and backside were bigger than mine, and I'm a grown ass woman. From the way, she swung her ass as she walked around she probably had far more sexual experience than I have. And the swim suit she wore left nothing to the imagination. The brown-haired girl wore a far more sensible one-piece suit.

The blonde dove into the pool and got out shivering. She ran back onto the porch, and I laughed.

The stupid whore obviously forgot that it was, despite our string of warmer than normal temperatures, November. She joined her friend in the hot tub.

Dennis came out onto the deck then and deposited a pizza on the table. In a fashion that was typical of teenaged girls, they squealed in delight and started devouring the pizza. The blond was especially animated. She was really trying to earn whatever she was getting paid. For some reason, she found it necessary to lean as far forward as she could while deciding which slice of pizza to eat.

Her position caused her sizable young breasts almost pop out of her top. She was clearly trying to show herself to him. She couldn't have been more obvious if she'd just jumped up and down screaming, "look at my titties."

But somehow Dennis didn't seem to notice. That pissed me off even more. He clearly chose the smaller, more innocent of the two girls. There was definitely a chemistry between them. The sluttier girl obviously was brought in for a threesome.

I turned away in disgust, vowing never to speak to him again. I was happy in some ways and disappointed in others. I made myself a cup of tea and thought about it.

It suddenly hit me that I thought about Dennis a lot. There had only been one man in my life that I'd spent as much time thinking about, and I'd married him.

I realized then that I was happy that Dennis was a possible pedophile because I needed a reason not to let myself like him. I was disappointed in him because on some level I had already begun to see him as a part of my life.

I turned the lights off in my house and sipped my tea as I stared out the windows and into Dennis' house. Who's the pervert now? I wondered, as I searched his lit up windows. Was I excited by the thought of seeing Dennis with the two young girls or had it simply been so long since I'd had sex that I was desperate to live it out if only vicariously?

One by one all the lights in the house went out, leaving only one. I looked into it and saw only the two girls. They were both in nightgowns, and they were laughing and doing something on the computer. Where the fuck was Dennis? Something was off. Another thing that was odd was the fact that he didn't spend any time with the girls. He brought them food and then went about his business.

He couldn't be asleep could he? What was the purpose of paying money for hookers and then not using them? There was something weird going on.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it. I'd been so busy looking at the house and all the brightly lit windows winking out one at a time that I failed to notice the very slight glow illuminating the rear deck.

I ran to my bedroom where I could see the deck. And there he was; Dennis was on the deck, alone. And suddenly, I don't know how I knew. Perhaps it was a subconscious reading of his body language. Perhaps it was some sort of innate empathetic connection, but I knew that Dennis was hurting.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one who sensed it. I saw the smaller girl get off of the chair in the room, leaving the slutty girl at the computer. I knew immediately where she was going.

I ran as quickly as I could to my side door. It faced away from Dennis' house. I opened it and slipped out as quietly as I could. I stealthily made my way around my house until I was kneeling by the fence as close to Dennis' deck as I could get.

I heard the girl sliding the door open and stepping out onto the deck. The next thing I heard almost caused me to cry out in surprise. With one sentence, everything changed.

"Daddy, why are you out here crying in the dark?" she asked. "I thought you were over her. She's not worth your tears. That's why you divorced her. And you had to. You have to get over this. You can't let her ruin your entire life. What do you always tell me? You have to move past it and get on with your life."

My head exploded. I had to get away. I quickly crept back around the side of my house and into the door. I screamed out in frustration as soon as the closed door gave me the privacy necessary to vent.

I truly was crazy. Why was I trying so hard to find something wrong with Dennis when he'd given me no reason to suspect any type of ulterior motive? The girl as no hooker, she was his daughter. The other girl was simply one of her friends. The bigger girl was at that awkward teenaged stage where she'd just come into her body and was testing her limits. Dennis didn't pay her any attention.

The conversation on the porch revealed something else. It had been something I could identify with. Dennis had clearly just gone through a very nasty divorce. And from his daughter's tone and words, it was obvious that he hadn't been the one at fault.

It was also obvious that whatever the woman had done; Dennis was trying really hard to make a new life for himself, but he had yet to fully get over her. We were more alike than I had ever considered. But there was a difference between us.

Dennis soldiered on and tried to make a new life for himself. He got a new house and threw himself into making it a new place for himself and for his daughter's visits. He got to know his neighbors and tried to make new friends and start a new life. He treated everyone with kindness and hid his own pain behind a mask of being the happy-go-lucky friendly guy. He took all of his pain on himself.

I, on the other hand, hid behind a mask of being angry all the God damned time. I literally took my divorce out on every man I met. I painted them all with the same brush strokes. Two men had hurt me so in my twisted point of view; I hated all men.

I think the biggest difference between us was that Dennis was brave while I was a coward. He had tried to plunge back into life, while I hid from it. He had embraced the idea of making new friends, while I closed myself off from everyone.

If we continued on our chosen paths, the results would also be different. Dennis would eventually meet another woman and start a life with her. I would end up one of those angry old women who lived with twenty six cats.

* * * * * *

Sarah

Life just kept getting better. Too bad there was no one around to appreciate my sarcasm. I went over to have coffee with my next-door neighbor. I decided that it was time for me to stop hiding and start trying to put my life back together.

There was no reason for me to continue hiding. Everyone in town already knew or thought they knew what was going on in my life.

Rhonda and I had gone through far worse than this together. I was sure that our friendship would survive this. I walked out of my house and over to hers. I knocked on the door and heard her moving around in the house.

She opened the door, recognized me and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Hi Rhonnie," I said. "I thought I'd stop by for ..." I paused as I noticed that the look of surprise on her face was replaced by revulsion.

"Why," she asked.

"Well ..." I smiled. "We always have coffee a few times a week."

"What I meant was how you could do that to Dennis, Sarah?" she gushed. "You cheated on him with a kid. And now you're trying to force the kid to help you raise your ... Uhm ..."

"Baby," I said. "It's a baby Rhonda. It isn't responsible for my mistake. Brad, on the other hand, is over eighteen. He's a fully grown adult male. He can be drafted. He can vote. He can get married. He can get a mortgage. He can as sure as hell consent to sex. But it's all my fault, isn't it Rhonda?

Once we got started, he was always after me. He couldn't get enough of ramming his dick into me. It's really funny that there were two of us there fucking away like there was no tomorrow, but everyone in town wants to blame me for something that both of us did.

I was out of it, Rhonnie. Just like you, I'm getting older. I'll be forty soon. And unlike your husband who's already old, Dennis with all of his running and crap just seems to be getting younger. Did you know that several of Chelsea's friends have crushes on him? Okay he's never noticed it, but they do.

The only person who ever had a crush on me is my husband. My ass is too big. My tits are the size of gallon jugs, and my tummy will never be flat again. What would you do if some younger guy started making moves on you?

At first, it was flattering, and I laughed about it. Then I grew to crave that attention. So I started to feed it. I showed a little cleavage and some leg, that was all. We all do it Rhonnie. The next thing I knew, we were fucking. And that was all it was, Rhonnie. It was only sex. Do you know that he never kissed me? I never kissed him either. I never wanted to.

We had no illusions about growing old together or making a baby. When I gave in the first time, I only intended for it to happen once. The rest is history. And you should know that he used me as much as everyone seems to think that I used him. He deserves to have to alter his life the way mine is being altered. It's not fair Rhonnie. I lose my husband, my family, my home, and even the respect of my children while he goes off and starts screwing a bunch of other women. I end up branded a whore. He ends up branded a stud. How does that work?

I don't give a fuck about what happens to Brad, Rhonnie. He cost me Dennis.

I love Dennis, Rhonnie. Did you notice that I didn't say loved? I love him to this day, and I always will. I am hoping and praying with all of my heart that someday he'll forgive me and give me a second chance. But right now, he's just too angry.

The man that I love threw me away and is starting his life over. Did you know that he has another house? Did you know that he had a pool put in and a hot tub? Dennis is starting his life over without me. What the fuck will I do if he starts dating?"

"Sarah, this is all your fault," she said. "It's easy to say that Brad was old enough to make his own decisions. But while you're saying that you have to remember that you're almost twice his age. So surely you're old enough to be just as responsible for your decisions as he was for his.

You talked about getting older and Dennis staying young. It sounds like even more bullshit. Dennis stays in shape because he runs, and he works out, but at the end of the day you said it yourself, Dennis never so much as looked at another woman.

Didn't you just point out that some of your daughter's friends ... Some of those hot young girls with springy asses, and jiggling tits had crushes on him, and he never paid them any fucking attention. He loved YOU, Sarah. And I for one hope he does find someone else. Stop playing the fucking victim. You have no one to blame for what happened to you except for yourself. I mean, think about it. Once you did start cheating why not invest in that new invention they have out. I think they call them condoms. Even if you didn't think you could get pregnant you could still have given Dennis a disease. Brad fucks every whore he can get his dick into. Grow up and take responsibility for what you did, Sarah. No one in this town has any fucking sympathy for you. If there's anyone we feel sorry for, it's Dennis." Then she closed the door in my face.

Over the next few weeks, I was met with rejection everywhere I turned. I couldn't so much as get close to Brad to discuss our child or our options. I turned to his parents, and they had absolutely no willingness to talk to me. When I brought up the fact that the child I was carrying was their grandchild, the mother turned on me.

"How do we know that?" she hissed. I was shocked.

"I had a DNA test done," I told her.

"We know that," she said. "Everyone knows that. It was the talk of the town. But your DNA test only proved that Dennis ISN'T the father. It didn't prove that Brad IS."

My jaw hit the floor. "But ...!" I gasped.

"But nothing," said her husband. "How do we even know that Brad was the only guy you were cheating on Dennis with. And you need to stop running all over town claiming that Brad is the father of that child when it hasn't been proven. If we have to, we'll get a lawyer and sue you for slander."

"You can't sue me for slander," I yelled. "Dennis hired a PI. He has video of Brad and me together. I can prove that we had sex."

"Can you prove that he was the only one?" he fired right back. "I've heard of a few other guys who claim to have ..."

I ran out of the door. What he was saying was simply not true. I admitted from the first to cheating on Dennis. But it was a simple lapse of judgment not a character flaw. Brad had been the only person I had EVER cheated on Dennis with. Things in my life were getting worse and worse.

Surprisingly, I turned to the one place I had always found support. I called Dennis. He always found time to talk to me. I would tell him about how I was being treated and how I hated it. He always listened and even gave me advice occasionally. His most constant pieces of advice were to ignore the people in town. Eventually, they would get over it. He also told me that looking back would only make things worse. I had to look forward to the rest of my life.