What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 02

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Jerry had come to grips with his own needs, and with his willingness to make the hard decisions he knew he might have to make in order to go on with his life in a positive productive direction. He wasn't at all sure if he and Lynette would resolve the problems he felt she had brought into their lives, and at the same time, he had not firmly set his mind on going through with the divorce process he had already laid the ground work for. It all depended on Lynette initially.

What she had done, and essentially who she had become was no longer acceptable to Jerry for his lifelong companion. She would have to change, change so deeply and fundamentally that she could never jeopardize their mutual happiness again. How on earth could she do that, furthermore if she did change, how on earth could she ever rebuild the trust she broke with Jerry? That might be just too much to ask for either of them.

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After Jerry told me I should move back in I felt hope for the first time since I had to face the terrible truth about what I had done to both our lives.

When church leaders contacted me and told me to meet with them that Sunday evening, I was sure they already knew what I had done. Nothing could be any worse than what I had felt when I listened to my own voice and the sounds of sex on the recording Jerry had made of my lust crazed adultery with Brian Reynolds. I already felt lower, and more worthless than I had ever thought possible.

As I sat in the presence of church leaders that were genuinely concerned about my well being as well as Jerry's, I tearfully confessed all that I had done. When they considered everything, the person I was, the commitments I had made and then violated, and everything that was needed to help me get beyond the negative self punishment I had already imposed on myself; it was understandable that they would see the need to excommunicate me from the church.

Part of their objective in this formal separation was to help free me of the burden of starting a journey with dirty laundry and broken luggage. I would have to get beyond the negative influence of overwhelming guilt that I had already embraced. Ultimately I couldn't do that without forgiving my self and starting from 'ground zero'; I thought that would even be harder than getting Jerry to forgive me, but I was wrong.

I didn't expect things to get back to anything normal at home for some time. Jerry offered me the master bedroom, but I declined and said I would be fine in the guest room instead. We ate evening meals, and occasionally watched a sitcom together. I felt incredibly uncomfortable when a situation came up in an episode that was sexually suggestive. That's not uncommon in today's sitcoms, and the discomfort brought the intensity of guilt roaring back to the surface.

It was easier to just slip away and read by myself. The longer our relationship was strained, the more frustrating everything else in both our lives became as well. I'm afraid the incredible effort that was needed to rebuild communications was too hard for both of us, maybe that was because communications between us before all this happened wasn't really good anyway. Without constructive dialogue, neither of us got or gave the supportive encouragement that was needed to grow together. Eventually we seemed to slip into a dullness that masked the uncomfortable issues we couldn't resolve.

In spite of the repulsion I had felt for a long time to sexual feelings and needs, the incredible impressions that are inseparable with sexual activity were still imbedded deeply in both of us, and they were being smothered and pressurized because we closed down the outlet. I confess that this was probably more a problem with me than Jerry. Not only was I at my natural peak for sexual interest, according to age, my most recent impressions had been blown out of proportion through the supercharger of infidelity. Face it, illicit sex seems much more powerful and consuming than romantic chaste copulation.

The memories of intense forbidden lust were creeping into my head through the locks I had tried to set in place. Jerry's remote emotional self only added to frustration, guilt and unfulfilled need that had become a vicious self perpetuating circle. Somehow romance needed to come back into our life if we were to have any chance at all.

The only positive benefit to all the travel that had been part of our problem in the first place was the frequent flyer mileage and connections I had made in the different cities I traveled to. Disney World had become an attractive venue for couples to celebrate anniversaries and spend romantic time together. In one of the hotels I had stayed, I met people who appreciated the business our company provided, and they offered me a free suite for four nights if I wanted. With miles to cover tickets and the warmth of a friendly invitation for the suite, it seemed like it might be a good idea to get away from everything for a few days where we could spend some quality time face to face.

Jerry agreed and we made arrangements for the earliest opening. I was excited and even nervous, because I hoped intimacy might finally come back into the equation and change the direction of our drifting lives. Everything seemed to be going perfect until we arrived at the hotel. We both knew what was supposed to happen, and forced the issue of intimacy unnaturally. Feeling Jerry's cock in me again should have been the greatest thing in my life, but it was not. Jerry was distracted, edgy and uncomfortable, mostly he just wasn't there.

I dismissed it to nerves and was happy at least for the effort. I tried again to get us back to romance, and the bedroom, and the more I did, the worse it made things. When I dressed in my sexiest lingerie to get him excited, he stiffened up in the wrong ways.

The worst thing that went wrong was when I got bold. We had been playing around a little, petting on the bed when I made the mistake of trying to really turn him on. We were already naked, but his cock was still not fully responding. I was stroking his semi firm penis while we French kissed passionately. Then I started to nibble my way down his body, nipping at his skin and kissing it as I worked toward his cock. When I saw it jump a little, I thought I was on the right track and continued.

I teased his pubic growth with my hot breath and ran my tongue along the length of his shaft. I kissed the purple head allowing it partly into my mouth as I made love to his beautiful organ. I had never thought Brian's cock was superior or that Jerry's was not. Brian was simply interested, he showed his need and passion and he demonstrated his enthusiasm for sex and interest in my body. It was the attitude that had captured my lusty imagination. All I wanted to do now was show the same kind of interest and enthusiasm for Jerry's beautiful and very equal cock. When I took his member into my mouth, I wanted to possess it and him with me, my whole heart and all of my lusty emotion, and there was nothing on this earth I wanted any more.

As I loved him I felt him come alive in my mouth and as he did, I came more alive as well. My passion quickly soared and I was seriously overcome with the need to give everything I could to this man who was still the love of my life in spite of the walls of hurt that were marshaled between us. I wasn't an expert at oral sex, but I thought I felt in sync with his need and capable of bringing us both to orgasm. I was driven to anticipate every dream and expectation he could possess and thought his climax would coincide with my own.

All of a sudden the hands that had held the sides of my head gently as he urged me on grabbed my hair and pulled me off of his inflamed rod with such ferocity I thought he would tear out two large handfuls of hair in his hands. He literally threw me off of him and I crashed to the floor off the edge of the coffee table and ended up against the couch. I was stunned and hurt, more than that, I was confused. What in the hell was happening.

My back and hip would be bruised, and blood was on my fingertips as I rubbed the sore roots to soothe the pain. I struggled to my feet, feeling pain in several areas already and looked at Jerry as I begged for some explanation of what terrible mistake I had made. Jerry said nothing; he went into the bathroom and stayed there for fifteen minutes; I thought it best to get back into my clothes.

When he finally came back, he quickly dressed and quietly told me that we needed to go to dinner. I was afraid to ask what happened again, until later on, and when I did he apologized and simply said he didn't know what came over him. He promised me it would never happen again; I wasn't sure that response offered much help. It was obvious that something had happened in that intimacy that disturbed him allot. I remembered his reaction to my questions about oral sex early in our marriage and wondered if this incident was an indication that my promiscuity had brought us to a point of sexual incompatibility.

I was disturbed over a new feeling of inadequacy and hopelessness. I felt totally insecure about my ability to sexually inspire and excite Jerry. If sexual intimacy was no longer a possible key to our emotional closeness, I had serious doubts about our ability to understand and respond to one another in any way. I realized we might not be able to become an understanding and caring couple again, let alone build a relationship that would provide intimacy and sexual excitement. After having felt such intensity in sex while cheating on my husband I faced the terrible possibility that I would never experience sexual excitement again.

Throughout the remainder of that night and most of the next day the tension between us built to painful, almost unbearable levels. Just before dinner, Jerry admitted that it was a mistake to go to Orlando. Everywhere we had gone, everything I had done caused him to imagine me doing those things with Brian. This was the city we were in during the infamous recorded call. Jerry couldn't stop himself from seeing Brian's hand in everything that we were doing together. He became upset during my efforts in oral sex, because he couldn't get the image of me sucking on Brian's cock out of his head.

The more I tried to reason with him the more unreasonable he and everything else became. We were both hurt and angry and I was completely without a clue about how to deal with us. We both became even angrier early that evening, and I finally left to get away and clear my head so I could think. I went to the lobby and found it hard to keep from breaking into tears at any thought or feeling that took me back to the problems upstairs.

As I walked around not anxious to go back to the room I think I drew attention to myself. A nice looking man, maybe a little younger than me, approached and introduced himself. At first I thought he was just being nice and thoughtful, and I needed a friendly ear to listen, or an arm to lean on. He offered to buy me a drink and when I realized he was just hitting on me, the water works started up and he quickly apologized for his insincerity, and helped me find an inconspicuous seat. He was nicer than I realized after all and apologized again for being rude and assuming the worst in me.

His name was Russell Marcum and he was from Memphis on business for a few days; he thought I was trying to get picked up from the way I was hanging around lobby. When he asked why I was so upset, I sniffed back emotions and told him briefly about the misunderstanding between me and Jerry. I don't know why, but all of a sudden I was telling him about all our troubles and even went into some of the details of our unsuccessful sex during the trip. It felt good to expose myself emotionally to this stranger, and I even found myself strangely excited when I told him about the rebuffed oral sex.

Russ said he was amazed that any man could refuse someone as sexy as me anything. It had been so long since anyone had suggested I was sexy that the words made me tingle. I felt my pussy getting wet and leaking into the tiny crotch of the sexy panties I had worn for Jerry. When he asked me in whispered tones if my panties were wet, I just looked at him with eyes glassed over and slowly nodded. Russell placed his warm hand on my thigh, just above my knee and pushed gently outward, asking me to open my legs for him. I relaxed my muscle and let him ease my thighs apart. He continued to push until I was sure he could plainly see the red lace panties that barely covered me.

As he looked hypnotically into my eyes he started to slide his hand ever so slow and sensually under my skirt and up my trembling thigh. I wanted his fingers to move my panties aside and fuck me right there in the hotel lobby so much I almost cried with pent up lust and desire. He was only a fraction of an inch away from my tender arousal, when I blinked to consciousness and grabbed his arm to stop his ready fingers. He held firm and wouldn't let me push him away at first, and then he proceed against my resistance. When his finger brushed along my oozing slit I lost my breath and my nipples felt as though they would explode. He could feel how totally wet I was and knew that my pussy wanted him badly, but I mustered all my strength and the determination I showed made him back finally away. I felt relieved, but it was a frustrating and painful victory. "I have to go." I said. "I need to find my husband."

"The only thing you need is this Lynette." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled it to his aroused penis. I could feel its firm length and girth through his slacks and he forced my fingers around it so I would know how large, capable and excited it was to be buried in me. I was still fighting my own need and subconsciously moved my thighs open and closed in lust. I forced myself to release my hold on his wonderful organ and said again that I had to go. Just as he started to protest, a hand appeared firmly on his shoulder and gripped tightly on the thick cord that runs from shoulder to neck. As the hand pinched the cord Russell let go and moved in defense.

"I believe she said she had to go." Jerry said to Russ as he looked coldly into my eyes. Jerry took my hand, stood me up and marched me out of the hotel to the courtyard. "What the hell is going on Lynette?" He asked. You were almost ready to fuck that guy right there in the lobby."

"I was trying to get away." I said truthfully. "I told him I had to find my husband Jerry." I was trying to get back to you."

"Eventually," he said with sarcasm. "Shit Lynn, he almost had your panties off before you chickened out. I guess I was right all along about all of the things I've felt since coming here. You're a slut Lynette." He hissed. "And nothing's ever going to change that. I should have known things would never work out between us after you sucked Brian's slimy prick. I'll see you back home, and we'll settle up." Then he was gone. I watched Jerry walk back into the lobby and approach the concierge. Together they walked out the entrance and the Bell Boy loaded Jerry's bags into a taxi's trunk while my husband got in the cab and left me.

Jerry had already made up his mind and packed before he came downstairs and found me with Russell. Our marriage was over, and I was left on my own. I wasn't in the mood to be fucked by anyone anymore, I just wanted to leave this city as well, but I couldn't bear the thought of feeling humiliated on the same flight as Jerry, so I asked the hotel to arrange my departure on the earliest flight possible the next day and went back to 'our' room to try and sleep.

Jerry and I met at the house and he had already prepared an asset sheet so we could divide our lives. I ended up with the house, and furnishings, but I had the mortgage as well. We didn't have a lot of capital assets to fight over, but then neither of us was in a fighting mood anyway. Jerry had the divorce papers with him, I smiled a little when I noticed they were dated a month before. I wasn't really surprised. When Jerry left, I had given him everything he wanted in the divorce, including the last shreds of my self esteem.

As more time passed, I became deeply depressed again. Jerry had called me a slut, and I knew that I was. I was also becoming more cynical and suspicious of everything around me. It's almost amusing as I look back now, because it ended up that the only real regret of the failed Orlando reconciliation was the fact that I didn't let Russell fuck the shit out of there in the hotel lobby for everyone to see. On the day the final divorce decree was served, I went off the deep end.

I went to a trendy hotel, near the international airport, that had a popular lounge, and although I didn't drink, I went in and took a conspicuous seat at the bar. When the bartender asked what I wanted, I tried to act cool, and said, "Surprise me." I have no idea what drink he brought, and I only sipped at it cautiously to acquaint myself with the taste. My real objective had nothing to do with liquor, I was going to get fucked silly, and consequences be damned. I already had a full helping of consequence; now I was ready for a giant helping of cause.

I scanned the lounge for possibilities and then when it became obvious I was still a little early, I decided to sit at a remote table and wait for the meat to show. Not long after, men started to arrive in small groups with occasional singles thrown in for spice. There was a small dance floor, and a few people were already using it. I had dressed sexy so it didn't take long before interested men started to ask me to dance.

On the dance floor I threw my self at the men like I was a slut and several thought I was already drunk on alcohol. Two younger men in their early to mid 20s came in together, and started to pay attention. We started to dance and seemed to forget all the others as we played sexy games on and off the floor. Andy was a fresh looking blond with a tapered lean and chiseled body; he looked like the typical California surfer, and was full of mischievous energy. Marc or Marcus was about 6'-4" and looked like a professional basketball player. His body was firm, well muscled, and forbidden, he was black as coal. Both of them reminded me of everything girls were afraid to touch but dying to intimately feel. Both of them were sexually dangerous, and just what I wanted.

It didn't take long before they started working on me to get me to go with them to one of their rooms. I teased and played along as we rubbed against each other suggestively; dry fucking on the dance floor. "C'mon Lynn," Andy said. 'You know you're ready to ride this pole." He had brought my hand to his package and I had already been fondling it to a full hard-on for five minutes. They both had played with my full firm ass cheeks and had slipped their fingers beneath my panties to feel my wetness.

I pulled his upper body down as I stood on my tiptoes and brought my mouth to his ear. "Before we go to your room, I want you to take my panties off while we're dancing so you can give them to Marcus." When I moved back, he held me at arms length for a moment as he studied my face to see if I was pulling his leg. I looked at him lustily and ran my tongue over my full painted lips to let him know I was absolutely serious.

Andy pulled me into a passionate embrace and immediately slipped his hands under the short hem of my sexy skirt and slid them up to maul my ass. Then he took hold of my lace panties by the waist and pushed them down until they fell loosely to my feet. I reached up with both arms and wrapped them tightly around his neck so my skirt was pulled up almost high enough to show my naked rear, and continued to dance with my lace panties dangling around my feet. When the music stopped, he knelt down and acted like the prince with the glass slipper as he picked up one foot and then the other so he could finish slipping my panties all the way off.