February Sucks Repost

February Sucks

Poor Linda

Forward. This is a short future ending to George Anderson's February Sucks, https://www.literotica.com/s/february-sucks. I thought this ending would be perfect for Linda.

I am reposting because I got so many letters saying it was in the wrong category. I can't win with you guys.

If you haven't read that story in Loving Wives, you will not understand this story at all. So, for those who haven't, take an advanced dose of your high blood pressure medicine before reading the original.

Thanks to Reader Friend for his input

I am also tired of your complaining about my Grammar. So, I want everyone one of you who reads this story to send me 1 dollar, and I will hire the best editors. But if everyone doesn't, then suffer.

.......

How in the hell did it come to this? For those who don't know me, I'm Linda. Across from me sits my husband, Jim. At least he's my husband until the judge delivers the final verdict in about 1 minute.

I've fought this divorce for six months, and Jim won't give an inch. My stupid stunt that night back in February has cost me everything, well, not everything. I get the kids, house, and nice hefty alimony check every month: everything but my husband.

You see, it was supposed to be our Special Night back in February. Jim had been planning it for weeks. That night we arranged to meet Dee, my best friend, and her husband, Dave, along with Jane and her husband, at the Madison for dinner and dancing. Then, afterward, a night of animalistic sex.

I didn't want to make love. I wanted to be fucked. The kind that would make your pussy hurt every time you moved for the next week. The type of sex that every time one of my female colleagues at work looked at me, they could tell by the slutty smirk on my face that I had been FUCKED.

We arrived at the hotel that afternoon around 5 o'clock. We planned to shower and prepare ourselves for the evening. That evening I dressed to kill. I bought this little blue dress that would make men drool and wish they were Jim. I wanted to make Jim proud of me. He always told me I was the best-looking woman when I walked into a room.

After we finished a great dinner, we all moved into the lounge for some serious dancing and drinking. We were there for an hour when Dee pulled me to the side to let me know Marc Lavalliere was in the house.

Jim and I had just finished our sixth dance when I saw Marc standing in the crowd. God, Marc was gorgeous. He stood like an Adonis among ordinary men. Marc is almost pretty; he is so handsome. He is the perfect male specimen.

He stands 6 foot 6: jet black hair and deep piercing blue eyes. And a smile that lights a room. I creamed my panties.

After we sat down from Jim's and my last dance, Marc moved to our table. He asked, "Do you want to dance?"

Before Jim could reply, I said, "I would love to." I grabbed his hand and took him to the dance floor, dragging him behind me.

God, he's beautiful. He was voted the sexist man alive by Peoples Magazine. He's an All-Pro tight-in for the NFL team, the Sharks, and the league's most valuable player. He meets all the 6s a woman needs. You know, over 6 feet tall. 6-figure income. 6-pack abs. Rumor has it, two times a 6-inch dick.

As we glided around the dance floor, it felt like I was dancing on air. It reminded me of the actress Ginger Rogers being led by Fred Astaire. He moved around the floor like a feather for a man weighing 275 lbs. of solid muscle.

I buried my head into his chest. I realized he wore the same cologne that Jim did. Every chance I got, I rubbed my hips against his groin. I couldn't feel a thing. I figured he was so large that he had to strap it between his legs.

I had to have this man—a one-time thing. I knew Jim loved me, and I loved him too. It would be just one night that I would remember in my old age. I would make it up to my loving husband for the rest of my life.

Hell, Jim always fantasizes about a threesome. I would arrange one of those if I had to. The thought of another woman touching my man makes me sick. But if that is what it took to make it right, I would lick a little pussy.

Besides, I enjoy my flavor when I clean Jim's dick after we fuck. L. W., our lawyer, dates a high-end escort named Ellen. I'll hire her for one night to fulfill Jim's fantasy. That should make it right between us.

I looked at Marc and told him my plan for the evening. Marc asked me, "What will your husband do when he finds out, and would he try to stop us?

I replied, "I love Jim, and this would be for just one night, and I'll go back to Jim and be the most loving wife he would ever want."

Mark scowled, "I don't know, Linda. He looks like a man that won't stand for this. Can he back his words up with actions?"

"Your right, Marc." I replied, "He is a kind man but tough as nails."

Marc stared at Jim and sized him up. Finally, Marc smiled and replied, "Let's do it."

I returned to the table, grabbed Dee, and headed to the bathroom. I explained my plan. She was as excited as I was.

I left the bathroom and headed out the back door. I didn't see Marc anywhere. I figured he was out in the parking lot, so I headed there. I waited and waited. The bastard stood me up.

I went back inside to find Dee. She informed me that Jim had gone to the restroom and never came back.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn't going the way I saw it going.

I went back to the room to find no sign of Jim. So, I started calling and texting him. I had to explain my thoughts and beg for forgiveness. After all, I didn't actually fuck Marc. Jim never answered his phone or replied.

I stayed in the hotel for the night. In the morning, I packed up our stuff, checked out, and headed to pick up our kids, then headed home. When I arrived, I saw that Jim had not been home. I didn't hear from him for about a week. I was served that Friday.

I fought and fought to no avail. Finally, I demanded counseling; it was no use. Jim had fallen in love with another because of my actions. And I couldn't get him back.

I'm sitting here looking at a man I adored who is equally good-looking as Marc. Just in a different way. Jim is ruggedly handsome, whereas Marc is pretty.

The gavel came down for the final time. I am a divorced woman, another statistic, and it is my damn fault.

Jim came over to me and hugged me. "Linda, I'm sorry we ended like this. I will always love you. But I've found my soul mate thanks to you and your actions." I cringed and started crying.

"We'll still get together and do things; after all, we have two precocious children to raise," he said with a warm smile. "Just not as husband and wife." I cried in his arms.

He escorted me out of the courtroom to my waiting parents. They weren't happy with either of us. But me mostly. I started it. It didn't turn out the way I expected.

Jim left, and I stayed a few minutes longer so I could say thanks to my lawyer.

As I walked out of the courthouse, a rush of anger came over me. There was Jim, the love of my life and his new lover. God, I hate the bitch, that fucker Marc Lavalliere, the cunt. He stole my husband.

Author Notes.

I guess Jim's fantasy of a threesome was not the same as Linda's.