Silent Nights

The title of this story does not indicate that it is about a religious Christmas song. Rather the title is merely a double entendre, which will become clear shortly.

You have probably met people like me, Jim Gage, and my friend, Tanya Gage, before. We love to talk. For many people that is a turnoff, but not for Tanya and me. Aside from Tanya's obvious beauty that is one of the things that attracted me to her; namely, she loves to chat. It is fortunate for me but that turns a lot of guys off because otherwise I would not have had a chance with someone as beautiful and sexy as Tanya is.

While I am not chopped liver myself, I think that almost anyone would say that Tanya is better looking than I am; in fact better looking than 99.9% of the female population. What I found out after the fifth date with Tanya is that she is also, in my experience, the best fuck in the world. The very first time she was at least 20% better than anyone else I ever had sex with, and once we got comfortable with each other she was 50% better than anyone else I've ever fucked.

Another thing that made us very compatible was that we both love to talk after sex. I had had sexual partners in the past that would go nuts if I tried to analyze our sexual experience, or started talking about random, or even romantic, things. Many wanted silence. Not Tanya. She loved, and still loves, to chat about how she felt/feels and always inquired/inquires about how I felt/feel too. At least fifteen minutes of happy banter follow each of our sexual experiences.

While I was smitten with Tanya the very first time that I laid eyes on her, I had no intention of getting married. I came from a broken home which probably was one of the reasons that I was sour on both marriage and having kids. After I had dated Tanya about six months she made it clear that if I wanted to be with her it was married, and that we would have kids. While I'm not sure that I "loved" Tanya, whatever that is, I really liked her, she was pleasant to be around (especially when we were chatting up a storm), and I lusted after her something fierce. I could get a hard-on just by thinking about her.

Her "Shit or get off the pot" ultimatum did not go over well with me, however. I told her that that was a deal breaker. She cried when she said "good-bye." I was torn up inside. When I saw her two weeks later with another guy my resolve collapsed. I called her up the next day and asked if I could come to see her.

"If you bring a ring with you, yes – if you don't have one, don't bother," was her pleasant but firm reply.

I bought a ring, showed up at her apartment two days later, and proposed to her. She feigned surprise, but she genuinely appeared happy, and did her best to fuck me senseless that night and the next morning.

There was constant banter during our courtship, and after we got married. It wasn't that she just talked for talking's sake; she actually had a lot to say. She had many opinions on many different subjects, and she was well read. As a matter of fact, she was probably as well read as anyone that I had ever met. I also consider myself an expert on some subjects, and very inquisitive on almost any subject, including sex. Tanya never had any apprehension about talking about anything, including sex.

Our married life got off to a great start. The honeymoon was fabulous, the apartment we rented had a great view, and we had neighbors who were fun and who apparently enjoyed, or at least tolerated, how talkative Tanya and I were. The only bad thing about our apartment complex was that the pool could be seen from almost every apartment, and when Tanya was in a bikini it seemed like every pair of male eyes was either on her, or hiding behind a pair of reflective sunglasses. I'm not really the jealous type, but at the same time I didn't have any other bodies to ogle that were on a par with Tanya's. Even when she got pregnant with our first child, Ben, after we've been married for three years, her body would put to shame almost any other woman's that frequented the pool.

Tanya and I rarely stayed home to watch TV. When we were home we snuggled and – of course – talked. More than half the time we went out somewhere, a play, museum, free concert, whatever, and talked about it almost non-stop until the next event. Of course that wasn't practical once we had kids, but we still got out to cultural events more often than any other couples in our position even after Ben was born.

Sex was always frequent and highly enjoyable. Tanya loved to give and receive oral, could orgasm at least five times a night if I treated her properly, and would let me stick my cock in any orifice that I chose. She liked vaginal sex the best, and so did I, so it was not unusual for us to fuck in one position or another every night of the week, and twice both days on the weekend. That continued from the honeymoon until she was eight months pregnant. The hiatus for pregnancy was short-lived also, only on the order of two and one half months.

Tanya's favorite sex position, and it is probably my second favorite, is what we euphemistically call a "JJ." "JJ" is short for a "Jimmy Jam," whereby while she is in the doggy position I finger her ass hole, lube up a small thin butt plug with a knob on the out-of-body end, slowly insert the butt plug in her ass hole and move it back and forth as she moans. I then stroke my dick over her pussy, and once she is soaking wet bury myself balls deep. I take her through at least one orgasm, and typically two. Normally her second orgasm is triggered by me ejaculating into her, and as I do that I grab the knob of the butt plug and slowly pull it out of her ass.

The JJ never failed to drive her wild, and the first penile sex she demanded once she recovered from her pregnancy was a JJ.

Between the birth of Ben and our second child, Susan, two years later we still had sex at least four times a week, and if someone was babysitting for Ben more than that -- back to pre-child amounts. The pregnancy with Susan went much the same as for Ben, again with only about a 2 ½ month hiatus, and then we picked up almost where we left off. So, going into the eighth year of our marriage we were still like a couple of minks.

Tanya and I had the appearance of being lovey-dovey when we weren't talking or fucking, and I thought the envy of most of our friends and co-workers. Actually, I was the envy of all of my male friends since within six months after Susan was born Tanya's body looked like it did when she was 21.

At that point in time I was actually very much enjoying married life. While I still don't think that I knew what "love" was in the romantic sense, I knew that I loved my children and that I really, really enjoyed having kids. I also thoroughly enjoyed Tanya's company, and my lust for her had not decreased even one iota from the first time that I saw her.

So that she just didn't have to talk to the kids and go crazy, especially in view of how much she loved to chat and exchange ideas with adults, Tanya got a part-time job when Susan was four years old. She worked for an executive relocation firm that provided part-time or full-time relocation services for company executives when being moved from one part of the country to another. Often times she would set up an executive with temporary housing, some of it owned by the company that she worked for, and then help him or her find a more permanent location either before or after their family moved to be with them. She normally worked twenty hours a week, got good pay although no benefits (I had complete health insurance coverage so that was not a problem), and never had to travel. She was almost always available on her cell phone and would usually call back within a few minutes if you had to leave a message.

At first Tanya didn't really like her job. The main problem she had, according to her, was that most of the people that she worked with, or helped out, weren't particularly chatty. They always seem to be in a hurry, and "on the clock," so the job wasn't fulfilling her desire to have conversational interaction with adults as much a she would've liked. She talked about quitting, even though other decent part-time jobs were not plentiful, but after she'd been working about six months she started coming home from work much happier.

"You seem to be a lot cheerier when you come home from work these days, Tanya," I said to her one day after we'd just had a really phenomenal JJ.

"Actually, I have been dealing with some people at work who are much more chatty than the people I normally work with, so it's been a lot more fun. Also I seem to really be appreciated for some of the things that I do," she smilingly replied.

After Tanya had been working at her part-time job for about six weeks after she indicated that she was working with people who were much more chatty, and who appreciated her more, there were two Mondays and Wednesdays in a row when I called her on her cell phone while she was at work that went straight to voicemail, and where she didn't return my call promptly, as she always had before. I didn't have any reason to doubt Tanya's fidelity and that is not what led me to do what I did next, namely bring my phone and hers into the IT people at my company and ask them to install locator apps on both of our phones.

Shortly after the apps were installed by my IT department I started to really notice the Monday, Wednesday, pattern. If I called her around noon on Monday or Wednesday it went straight to voicemail and I never got an immediate callback; typically she didn't call me until an hour later. She always had one excuse or the other, and most of them would have been convincing if taken in isolation. However, when you combined them together "there was something rotten in the State of Denmark."

To follow up on this suspicious behavior I made several inquiries of the day care center about how much time Tanya was leaving the kids with them on Monday and Wednesday. From what I could gather, several weeks before my inquiry she had started leaving the kids with the day care center approximately two hours more per week, one hour on each Monday and Wednesday, than she had before.

The very next Wednesday, armed with the day care information, I called Tanya at lunch. As expected, she didn't answer but my call went immediately to voicemail. I used the app on her phone to determine where she was. It was one of the temporary relocation units owned by the company that she worked for. I drove there then sat in my car, out of sight of the unit, until at about 1 PM Tanya exited the unit with a big smile on her face. She was closely followed by a well-dressed handsome man who looked to be in his early 40s who was giving Tanya playful pinches on her ass while they chatted up a storm. His smile was even bigger than hers. They got into their cars, waved, and drove off.

It was a simple matter to find out from Tanya's workplace who the individual was that was using the relocation unit. His name was Jack Whitney, an executive with a Fortune 500 company who had a wife and a teenage daughter at his home in a city about 600 miles away.

Being a low-tech but high IQ guy, I also reasoned that Tanya likely had a key to the temporary relocation unit that Mr. Whitney was staying in. That same Wednesday night I looked through her keys on her keychain, identified ones that I thought could be to the unit I was interested in, and made a quick trip to the hardware store to get them duplicated. I returned the original keys to Tanya's keychain while she was putting the kids to bed.

I considered it strange that even though Tanya had been with the Whitney guy that Wednesday afternoon, once the kids were in bed she obviously was pushing for a JJ. Hoping that Tanya was smart enough to use protection, and being very horny given the seductive way that Tanya was approaching me, I saw no reason not to give her a JJ. While I had not yet figured out exactly what I was going to do as a result of her liaisons with Mr. Whitney, considering that this might be the last week that I fucked her, I decided that I might as well enjoy myself.

I outdid myself that Wednesday night. For the first time in our relationship I gave her two JJ's in one night. The first one almost rendered her comatose I was pounding so hard and ejaculated such a large volume, and after the second one she was too tired to even talk. She just kept on mumbling "WOW."

I got up early Thursday morning, a day that she did not work, left her a note with some bullshit story but also profusely thanking her for being a sex goddess the night before, and drove to Mr. Whitney's temporary relocation unit. Once I saw him leave I went up to the door and the third of the four keys I had copied from Tanya's keychain fit the lock perfectly. I went into the unit and looked around just to see where everything was situated.

The next thing I did was to go get tested for STDs. None of those that they could test for quickly showed up, and I was advised that they would put a rush the tests that could not be done immediately. I now needed to carefully examine my feelings and decide what I was going to do.

I took the rest of the day Thursday off of work, and all day Friday. I went to a secluded spot in the country, sat on the bank of a bubbling brook, and wrote out a complete self-analysis. At the end of the day Friday I was not happy with what the self-analysis revealed, but it did allow me to come to exactly the conclusion that I needed.

What my self-analysis revealed was that I was actually a pretty shallow human being. Aside for my love for my children, I probably didn't actually "love" anyone else in the world, including Tanya. That did not mean that I was looking forward to a divorce, because Tanya fulfilled every need that I had for a wife except for, what was for me, that elusive quality of "love." I was positive that I would never, ever, find anyone who was better in the sack than she was since every sexual encounter with her was between a 9.5 and 10 on a scale of 1 to 10. Also she was a good mother, the children loved her, and I liked talking to her more than I liked talking to anyone else. Plus, I considered it important for kids to grow up with two live-in parents.

I also considered why I had never cheated on Tanya during our marriage. It was difficult for me to acknowledge but I did have to admit that it was because my sex life with Tanya was perfect, or as close to that as humanly possible, so there was no reason; and I never travelled on business. It wasn't because I was such a high moral individual; I wasn't necessarily better than she was.

Perhaps strangely, I also did not consider Tanya's lack of fidelity to adversely reflect on my sexual performance. There is absolutely no way that Tanya could be faking her responses to our sexual encounters since nobody was that good an actress, and since she constantly sought me out. There had to be some other reason why she was seeing Whitney and, weirdly, I didn't even seem to care why. That is not to say, however, that my ego was not in any way adversely affected by what she was doing. I wouldn't be human if I didn't have feelings of anger, rage, and the thirst for revenge. If I successfully implemented my plan, however, I could satisfy my bloodlust while at the same time – in the long run – not destroy my relationship with my children. Plus I could still satisfy my sexual urges in the same way that they always had been since I met Tanya.

After I came to peace with my decision about what to do I was as cheery, chatty, and pleasant as ever when I got home. Tanya and I had an extremely vigorous fuck session Friday night, and another in the wee hours of the morning on Saturday. My good mood was also enhanced when I got the rest of the STD test results back and found that I was completely clean.

Not one to let grass grow under my feet my next act on Saturday morning after breakfast and finding out my STD test results was to call Mrs. Whitney.

Mrs. Whitney seemed like a charming lady over the phone, and she asked me to call her Sally and I asked her to call me Jim; that is she was charming until I told her the real purpose of my call.

"Sally, I'm afraid that I have some bad news; for both of us."

"Nothing has happened to Jack, has it?" she asked. I had told her that I was an acquaintance of Jack's in the city where he had spent most of his time the last three months.

"Actually, something has happened both to your husband, Jack, and to my wife, Tanya. I don't know how to delicately put this so I'm just going to come out and say it. They have been having an affair for at least the last few weeks. Every Monday and Wednesday they get together at noon time at Jack's relocation unit and fuck for an hour."

"What? Jim, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"That's what I thought when I first figured out what they were doing. There is no doubt in my mind that they are, however. I know what I'm going to do about it; the purpose of my call is to ask you if want to find out firsthand, and if so what you are going to do about it?"

There was a long pause. The pause was so long that I even said "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here; I'm thinking; this is a lot to take in."

"You want me to give you my cell phone number and full name and you can call me back. I would rather not allow their liaison to occur even one more time before I do what I'm going to do. I want to act Monday. I'd be happy to pay for your plane flight out here and pick you up at the airport if you're willing to go along with my plan."

"Yes, please give me your phone number and full name. A plane ticket will not be necessary since I have my own plane and a pilot's license, including instrument certification, and if I decide to act immediately you can pick me up at the private plane terminal by 9:30 Monday morning."

"Not one word to Jack, however," I said in a kind of a singsong tone in case she took it the wrong way and was insulted.

"I'm ex-CIA," she laughed, the only levity in our conversation.

"I can see that you and I are a lot like, and we are sure to get along famously considering our mutual goals," I replied. I then gave her my full name, address, and cell phone number, and signed off.

I heard back from Sally within two hours. She was not only on board, she was excited about our upcoming "OP," as she referred to it; maybe she really was ex-CIA!

I couldn't believe it, but Tanya wanted another JJ Sunday night. I thought "since if my plan does not work out this might really be my last fuck with Tanya," I enthusiastically went along with the idea of sex. However this time it was my favorite position, The Wheelbarrow," that I maneuvered her into, and not a JJ. I fucked her harder than I ever had before in my entire life. For the second time within the last few nights instead of being her normal chatty self all that she could do when I was finished with her was say "Wow," about 1000 times before she fell asleep, or passed out, I couldn't be sure of which.

Monday morning, D-day, I again left before she got up, but not before leaving her another note telling her what a sex goddess she was. As I was driving to the airport to pick up Sally, Tanya actually called me and said that she missed chatting with me in the morning. Fortunately I have Bluetooth in my car so I could talk with her without violating the law, and she was really wound up. Finally when I saw a woman matching the description that Sally had given me (tall with blond hair in a ponytail and thirty six years old) exiting the pilot's seat of a private plane I had to terminate our already half-hour long conversation, much to Tanya's disappointment.

Despite the fact that Sally had given me a fairly decent physical description of herself, enough so that I could recognize that it likely was her walking from the private plane that she had exited, I was a little surprised about a few things. The first was that she was a better looking, and a little younger looking, than I had expected. More significantly, she was about as muscular as a woman could be without crossing the line between being sexy and gross. The latter point was brought home even more to me she shook my hand and almost crushed it. I estimated that she was about 5'10" tall and 150 pounds of muscle. Even though I was about three inches taller and thirty pounds heavier I wondered if she could beat the shit out of me.