Best of Both Worlds - FTDS

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It's a Matter of Trust - Sequel to AndrewPeter's tale.
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It's a matter of trust - my ending to AndrewPeters' Best Of Both Worlds

URL: http://www.literotica.com/s/best-of-both-worlds-ch-02

AndrewPeters' Best of Both Worlds is part of a story about a wife's long term affair, her husband catching her, both with evidence from a PI, and in their bed, in his home, with the lover fucking his wife's ass, something she'd long denied him. Of course, according to the wife it shouldn't matter, it was only sex, she loved her husband, even if she'd placed her lover above him in priority over and over again for a long period of time.

Over a series of chapters, they get divorced, he tries to move on - but the author won't allow him. The wife slowly realizes what she's done, through time, learning her lover was cheating on her (!), that she wasn't special, that her husband is seeing other women who seem to enjoy being with him, and through counseling. The author also uses the daughter to start a forced reconciliation - she wants her parents back together, and of course, that's all the matters, right? After four chapters leading up to her getting caught and one chapter of the immediate aftermath, we're subjected to three more chapters of the inevitable reconciliation (and thankfully some revenge against the lover). Inevitable? I wonder . . .

BTW, the story was starting sometime before March, 2004. When? I'm not certain since the first chapter has been removed. The following chapters 2 through 9 were published from March 04 through January 08. We're told at the end of chapter 9 that there is one more chapter, hopefully soon. That was six and a half years ago. A long time to wait for a conclusion.

There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.

For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The End of Best of Both Worlds Ch 09

"When we first got together, we already knew who each other was, we were friends first, and more after. I'd like to see if we can become friends again, maybe that's all there will be, maybe not. Time will tell"

We continued to walk along, though both of us talking, rather than just her listening to my rant. In some ways saying we both walked along is almost an exaggeration, I think Sarah was almost floating. She did shed tears as she told me that this was more than she ever hoped for, another chance. And she agreed that whatever happened, we needed to go slow, to get to know each other again, and to decide together, if there was a future together in being more than just Jennifer's parents. We both agreed that if nothing else, we could share a friendship, though how deep or strong it would be waited to be seen.

As I headed home I realized that I felt more content than I had in years, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, that a sad story chapter in my life had finally received the necessary degree of closure.

It is strange, how emotions work. At the moment, talking to my ex-wife, feeling that old camaraderie, it was as if what she had done to us had happened to some other couple, in a different age. As so often happens, later, alone, I felt some of the old bitterness returning.

But then Jennifer was there. My darling daughter Jennifer, who'd been the loving escape I'd needed when things were at their worst. Who'd never blamed me for breaking up the family, while blithely moving forward, always hoping that someday we could be a family again.

I recalled her 11th birthday, when she tried to blow out her candles, and failed, with one solitary lit soldier remaining. She had explained it didn't matter, her wishes wouldn't come true anyway. For years she'd wished the same thing, that her family would get back together.

It had been painful to hear. She was an innocent, faultless, yet made to suffer for my wife's adulterous behavior, and my inability to accept it.

Now, years after that betrayal, after so many attempts to move on, I was considering whether it was worth the effort to try again. For my daughter, for the happiness I couldn't seem to find with anybody else, for my repentant wife who finally seemed to understand just what she'd done, although she still couldn't give me a satisfactory reason why.

Honestly, I believe that being able to ruin that asshole glassblower helped, giving me a target to release my anger and hatred. In my mind I was able to force much of the blame on him, granting my ex-wife some latitude for submitting to his seduction. Destroying his business, his name, and his engagement had helped.

Thus it was that less than a week later I was canceling a blind date that a friend had setup, and instead, invited my ex-wife out for a day in the park, with Jennifer and I. Not quite a date, but more than I'd thought I'd ever accept. The plan was simple enough: she'd come over, we'd go out as a family, while she provided a picnic lunch. We'd take our girl to the zoo, and afterwards head out for dinner together.

My emotions were in turmoil the days leading up to our outing. I felt a little of the old bitterness, mixed with a sense of eagerness, perhaps even anticipation. Jennifer was bouncing off the walls in excitement.

I'd be lying if I said the day was anything other than wonderful. Seeing my daughter so happy put us all in a good mood. Of course Sarah remembers my favorites, and was sure to have her grandmother's fried chicken for us, as well as Jennifer's favorite, PB&J. I think it was purposeful that we talked of nothing recent, only rehashing our older memories, and discussing a little about our jobs, and some of our old friends.

As we drove home after dinner, I felt nervous, anxious. Mostly for how Jennifer would take it. What were her new expectations? I was relieved when we got home and she gave her mother a big hug and a kiss, said she'd see her later, and disappeared into the house.

I don't think either of us expected that, and we were left standing on the stoop, looking at the door she'd left ajar, then at each other.

"That was . . . not what I'd expected," I said, as much to break the ice as anything else.

Sarah looked at me with a smile and a hint of wistfulness. "Thank you for today, Bill. It was more than I could ever have hoped for."

When she moved toward me, I didn't think twice about opening my arms to her, hugging her warmly. We were silent, I imagine both of us lost in our thoughts. For a moment she was my old Sarah, the young girl I'd fell in love with, who I'd planned my future around, the mother of my perfect little girl. Sarah, the woman I'd loved to distraction for so many years. I clutched her a little tighter, afraid of losing her, the woman I'd loved back then.

My grip loosened, as did hers, but I did not release her. She leaned back against my hold, my arms all that was holding her up from falling backwards. She gazed up into my face with tears in her eyes, and my heart hurt for her. For us, for what we'd lost.

Her lips parted, and I saw the tip of her tongue brush her upper lip. I knew what she wanted, but she wasn't going to take that first step. She gazed into my eyes, patient, expectant, hopeful.

I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers, softly, gently, cautiously. I felt her arms encircle my neck, and she kissed me back, courageously, passionately, her tongue teasing my lips and teeth.

It was only for a few seconds, and then we pulled apart. I brushed her loose hair back from her face, and caressed her cheek with the back of my fingers. "I had a wonderful time today," I said.

Her grin was in danger of splitting her face open. "Me too. The best in a long, long time." She stood on tiptoe and gave me a brief peck on the lips. "I'm going to go now, before I do or say something stupid. I hope you'll call me so we can go out again soon."

With that she turned away from me, back toward her car, leaving me standing there, with the taste of her on my lips, and a hard aching in my pants. She turned back before getting in the car, waving, and blowing me a kiss, before opening her door, and driving away.

I went upstairs, and dealt with the memento she'd left me, stroking myself to completion, remembering how it had been, once upon a time.

~ * ~ * ~

We took it slow, very slow. It was a mutual decision. We both knew the path we strode was surrounded by land mines waiting to go off. So we stepped carefully, always aware of what we avoided, never bringing it up, leaving it walled off, an impediment to our progress.

Jennifer was happier than ever. We both could see it in her, and she was no longer hesitant to suggest involving her mother in our activities, any activities.

It was six weeks later that I invited her out, just the two of us. I had a sitter for Jennifer, and offered to take her out for dinner and dancing.

I thought I'd lost her. The silence over the phone seemed to go on forever. "Just us?" she asked hesitantly.

"You and me, if . . . if that's alright."

"No, I mean yes! That's alright, more than alright. Where are we going, how should I dress?"

"Nothing too fancy, but we will be going to The Backroom for dancing and drinks afterward."

"What time?" she asked eagerly.

I was smiling as I told her I'd pick her up at 6:30 if that was okay. I had reservations for seven.

"That's perfect. I'll be ready. I . . . I'll see you then."

I think Jennifer was as excited as her mother, and if I were totally honest, I was pretty worked up myself. The occasions when the anger and bitterness surfaced were becoming less and less frequent. More often than not, I was remembering what we had, and indulging myself in the feelings of learning about by ex-wife all over again.

We hadn't changed that much, no matter how often we said differently. Sure, we'd matured a little, and our edges were a little softer, ground down by life. My expectations of her weren't nearly as high, and I imagine hers weren't either. So each new outing, ending on a happy note was a wonderful discovery.

We had kissed several times, but it had gone no further than that. Walking up to her door with flowers in my left hand, and a brand new condom in my wallet, (two, if I'm going to be honest) I had high hopes for the evening.

She opened the door, and she was beautiful. As gorgeous as she'd ever been. Her dress was simple, sleek, and showed off her body, without making a spectacle of it. It ended mid thigh, high enough to show off her excellent legs, without seeming slutty. Her hair was hanging loosely, carefully casual, the look that only a couple of hours in the salon gave her.

I gave her the flowers, and she responded with a hug. It had been two months since I'd been with a woman, and my cock quickly reminded me of that fact.

Dinner was like the old days. We talked about our childhood together, from elementary school to our first serious date. We went from there to the college years, and laughed at ourselves. After dinner I took her out dancing, proud to have such a beautiful woman on my arm. I'm not a great dancer, but I was fearless that night, taking her out on the floor over and over again. She had no shortage of invitations from her admirers, but she declined gracefully, and a couple of times more decisively when her pursuers wouldn't take no for an answer.

Afterward, we were still laughing as I walked her to the apartment door. She turned and leaned back against the door. "Come inside?" she asked. I knew the invitation was for more than coffee. After pressing my erection into her for a couple of hours on the dance floor, she knew I was interested.

"Love to," I whispered, leaning down and kissing her softly.

We didn't run inside, tear our clothes off and do it there on the rug. We had coffee, sitting close to each other on the couch, looking over one of her picture albums. We touched each other constantly, and I was the one who made the first overture, kissing her and pushing her back down on the couch. After an extended make out session, she pushed me off of her with a laugh, took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom.

I'll admit it, I was nervous. I hated it, but I couldn't help but wonder how I'd measure up to loverboy. She undressed for me, and I was still struck by how beautiful she was. Perhaps more than ever. She helped me with my shoes and pants, then I pulled her down onto the bed.

I rolled her over on her back, and went after her with a mission. I could be as good as she needed. I ate her to a series of orgasms, using everything I knew of her, and a few more tricks I'd learned since then. When I had her screaming for me, begging me to fuck her, I did just that. I put on my condom, and did my best to prove to her I was as good as the competition. The condom helped, delaying the inevitable, and whenever I got close, I would pull out of her and dive back between her legs until I was under control. It took an enormous amount of willpower, but after three stop and go sessions, I'd reached my limit and pounded her to my finish, proud of how I'd made her come repeatedly on my cock and tongue.

She took care of the condom, and washed me clean, before laying down in my arms. It was a few moments before I realized she was crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stroking her hair back from her pretty face.

"Nothing," she whispered.

"How long have I known you, Sarah? Something is wrong. What is it?"

She turned and kissed me softly. "Can you go again?"

"With a little help, I don't imagine that will be a problem."

She wiped her tears and went down on me, and true to my word, a few minutes later I was ready for another round. I pulled her up, eager to prove myself again.

"This time," she said softly, holding me off, "just you and me, alright? Love me like you used to. You have nothing to prove to me. You've always been all I need, past idiocy included. Love me."

I knew she meant well, but it still hurt. I responded instinctively. "If I was all you needed, why take on a lover? Why would you fuck another man for months? Why did you deny me, so you could be with him, why did you let him do things to you that you denied me for twenty years? Why would you invite him into our home, fuck him in our bed, let him have your ass, there in our home, after getting pissed at me for even mentioning it? Why, Sarah? Why?" I was almost shouting by the time I'd finished.

She took it all, crying softly, watching my anguish. "There's no excuse, baby. I can tell you the reasons, but there's no excuse. I was seduced, and too weak to fight it off. It was exciting, not because he was better but because it was new, exciting, different. He was much more forceful, and that excited me. I found it difficult to say no to him, and he wouldn't let me even when I did. I was a weak willed idiot, and I have to live with the shame of that forever. I don't deserve you, being here with you after what I did, and every moment we share, I pray that it's not the last, and thank the heavens for each second we have together." She had spoken quietly, eyes downcast, but she finally looked up. "I'm sorry. I regret what I did, and I swear on all that's holy, you're the only man I ever loved, the only man I ever wanted. My mistake was forgetting that for a while, while caught up in the excitement of doing something new and wicked."

I hadn't felt that angry and bitter in a long time. I rolled onto my back, biting back the words I wanted to say. I knew it wouldn't help anything. When she cuddled up to me, I let her, holding her in my arm. We were both quiet, lost in our thoughts. I had to wonder how long her betrayal would hit me like that.

I never did use the second condom, and left before much later. She gave me a wistful goodbye at the door.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, baby," she said, hugging me. "I'm sorry I ruined everything."

"You didn't ruin anything. I had a great time as well. We both knew this would be difficult. We'll take our time, and it will get better."

"Please don't give up on me," she pleaded. "I love you, Bill. I need you. Please give me a chance to make it up to you."

I nodded, giving her a squeeze. "I'll call you later. I might need a couple of days."

"Take as long as you want. I'm not going anywhere."

~ * ~ * ~

It was a speed bump that hit us pretty hard. Well, hit me pretty hard. Jennifer didn't understand what had happened and I didn't fill her in on it. She was still eager to have her mother with us, and after a week I relented, and we had another family outing. It was still a couple more weeks before I took Sarah out on another date. We didn't end up in bed, but it was better.

Two more dates, and once again we finished in her apartment. We were slow and hesitant, moving the action to the bedroom. She was cautious, getting me naked and erect, before mounting me. Tricky woman, she took the decision out of my hands, controlling the action and tempo. It was good and she was loving and attentive. After she got me off, we cuddled, but she was careful to keep the bad thoughts away, distracting me, talking about our daughter's schooling, while teasing me back into action.

I knew that no matter what I did, she wasn't going to say a word about it. She wouldn't risk another blow up like last time. I enjoyed it, enjoyed her, my mind free of thoughts of the past for the moment. We worked our way through a few positions, before finishing with her under me, face-to-face.

We cuddled afterward, and she kissed my chest. "Stay?"

"I can't. The babysitter can't stay. I'm already going to be late."

She nodded. "I understand. That was wonderful."

I wondered if it truly was, or if she was just trying to make me feel good. I could tell that it wasn't as good as the last time, when she had complained. She had come repeatedly for me then cried about it. Tonight, it was quieter, more loving, but less passionate. She certainly didn't respond as well. Maybe it was all in my head.

~ * ~ * ~

It became more regular. We went out once or twice a week for dinner, and got together for lunch when we could. We ended up in her bed a couple of times a week, and it got better. I'm pretty sure she was hoping that I'd invite her back to our home, where she could spend the night, but I still wasn't sure if I wanted to get Jennifer's hopes up that high. Yes things were good, but they weren't perfect.

It had been four months since we'd started dating, and I was still trying to get past the last of my insecurities. Sarah, for her part, was loving, patient, affectionate, and willing.

Jennifer had a friend's birthday party to go to, and it was a sleepover. Sarah and I hadn't been able to spend the night together, but I figured it was time. We did a movie together, and a light dinner. Afterward, she didn't say anything as I drove her back to our home, rather than her apartment. She did reach over and caress my thigh, up to my balls.

She had been at the house many times in the last few months, but it was the first time it was just the two of us. I opened a bottle of wine for us, and when I handed her a glass I saw the tears in her eyes. "Something wrong?" I asked.

"No. I'm happy."

We finished the bottle, and ended up in bed together. She went down on me, and looked up slowly. "Can we skip the condom tonight?"

I had insisted on using one up until then. I finally nodded, and she mounted me. She was as wild and passionate as she'd ever been, and wore me out before finally letting me come. It was obvious she wasn't done with me. As soon as I'd finished, she had her mouth on my cock, and wouldn't let up until I was hard again.

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