Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, Part 17

   Friday, the 30th of May, to Wednesday, the 4th of June

   The weekend came and passed, and until Wednesday, all was smoky and
sex-filled but a kind of routine had settled in.  I mean, we had lots of
fun together and the sex was good, but now that the novelty of it all had
gone, so had the thrill.  I was beginning to wonder, whether our life would
be that way from now.  Even worse, I worried how Moira felt about this. 
She never complained, but I could feel it in the air.  Unless something
spectacular happened, I couldn't be sure she wouldn't give in to temptation
once more.  I had no illusions about my qualities as a stud.  I couldn't
compete neither technically nor muscle-wise with many males out there in
the wild.

   Wednesday, the 4th of June, evening

   So, Wednesday came and Moira was quite late again.  I wondered how drunk
she would be.  At close to eleven I could hear her fumble with the key in
the latch.  It sure sounded as if she couldn't aim properly at the keyhole,
so I opened the door to let her in.

   "Gosh, why do I do this every time?" she mumbled, her words slurred.

   Though her capacity to articulate was quite impaired, she seemed to
stand quite steadily on her feet, swaying only slightly.  Then I realized
that she had one of her cigars, the bigger ones, clenched between her
teeth, bobbing up and down while she spoke.  But the worst part of it all,
was that she seemed to be in a rather somber mood, not as happy and joyous
as past Wednesdays.

   "Something wrong, Tweety?" I asked softly.

   "Oh, hold me tight, I could use a bear-hug right now.  I missed so you
much." She said, still dangling the cigar.

   That sounded reassuring.  For a moment I had feared she would bear bad
tidings.  Well, she didn't let me standing in the fog too long, not in the
figurative sense anyway, as she kept exhaling big clouds of creamy white
smoke.

   "There was this guy with the Middeltons again.  I felt sorry for him
somehow.  I could see how he devoured me with his eyes and he is kinda
cute, but I wasn't even remotely tempted.  There's nothing wanting from our
life, is there?" she asked, but I could see the doubt in her eyes alongside
with the fear.

   "Still, I had a few more drinks and two cigars with him.  I did him some
good, I guess, though I hope I didn't plant any hopes in him.  I just
couldn't cheat on you now, never ever again, it would kill me."

   Though it sounded truthful and I had no reason in the world to be
jealous on that guy, still I felt a little hurt.  Maybe because she had,
willingly or not, posed for a guy who clearly was infatuated with her. 
But, as always, I couldn't quite hide my state of mind and Moira was
particularly good at reading my mind anyway.

   "You're worried, aren't you?" she whispered, quite out of breath after
an attempt to soothe me with a smoke-flavored wet kiss.

   Though the magic of it still worked and I kissed her back passionately,
the effect didn't really last longer than the kiss.

   "So sorry Honey-bear, I acted thoughtlessly.  Instead of coming home to
my lonely bear, I wasted my time at the bar with some stranger.  I'm such a
stupid, no good thoughtless bitch.  How can you stay with me another single
day?  After all I did to you... I wish you would really punish me, you damn
saint." She said with tears in her eyes.

   Well, she had me cornered again.  But this time I was determined not to
give in easily.

   "Sweety, I have to think about it all.  I'm not really mad at you, you
haven't done anything wrong, except flirting with another guy.  I mean,
there are places in this world were you could get a flogging for that
alone, but this is a civilized country.  Maybe you are right, though, and
we would both feel better if you'd compensate me with something.  I mean, I
could've asked you to take up smoking for my pleasure, but you were already
smoking when I returned home.  That you smoke so sexily and are so eager to
please me only helps that much." I said sadly.

   Moira sucked heavily on her cigar and tears ran down her face.

   "So this will be the end of it?  Are you tired of me?"

   Now was the crucial moment.  It could blow up into my face, but there
was so much at stake, I couldn't stop myself.  I just couldn't forget how
explosive my orgasm had been when I humped her backdoor while she had been
riding that dickhead.  There was something in this, I was sure and I was
determined to go for it, if I could.  Besides, should my strategy bear
fruit, I would also be able to settle a record straight.  Also it would
help close an ancient wound that had never healed properly.

   So, though I kissed her hard one last time, I went to the spare bedroom,
saying that I needed to think, alone, without temptation or distraction.  I
rolled around endlessly, thinking it over and over again, but I just
couldn't shake loose the conviction that only something dramatic could save
my marriage, if it could be saved at all.  The outcome of my little plot
was by no means sure.  At best I might come to terms with Moira, but if
things turned bad, I would loose her definitely and immediately.

   Yet, we could not go on like this.  Even though she now satisfied my
fetish almost to the excess and since I had returned I had had more sex
than in my whole previous life, still it just wasn't enough.  Jealousy had
me in its grip still and there was no doubt about it.  I wouldn't be able
to shake it off just with the help of a fetish queen.  The worst part was
that I was totally addicted to this new woman in my house that looked like
Moira, talked like Moira, but other than that had little in common with the
slightly dull and square woman I had married.

   But there was one problem I still had to solve and no idea how to do it.
One after the other I dismissed any strategy that crossed my mind.  I
couldn't do it by phone or e-mail or even by letter and I wasn't prepared
to confront Karl.  Then, after what seemed hours, I somehow fell asleep.

   Thursday, the 5th of May

   I dreamt weird things that night and woke up with a skull-splitter of a
headache.  I went down to the kitchen and found Moira there, head on the
table, an ashtray filled with plastic-tipped stubs next her and also a
half-empty quart bottle of vodka.  So at least she was suffering.  Good! 
All these days I had gotten turned on by her smoking and sometimes by her
inebriated state, but now I somehow remained untouched.  I filled the
electric kettle with water and turned it on.

   The sound of the boiling water must have woken her up as I heard her
mumble something about calling in sick.  The sound of her voice, hoarse
from drinking and smoking, her speech slurred, somehow softened my
disposition.  I felt a pang of guilt, but no arousal at all.

   The coffee was finally ready and I had a steaming mug in front of me,
when I heard her chair scratch on the floor boards as she rose from the
table.  I felt her hand on my arm and she tucked at my t-shirt so I rose
and turned around to face her.  She fell around my neck, sobbing bitterly
and again, I didn't feel a thing, except pity.  Finally, I offered her my
mug and she sipped at it but then she retched and stumbled to the small
bathroom next to the kitchen.  I heard how she throw up and I left her
there and made myself ready for work.

   I don't know what would have happened, if luck hadn't been on my side
for a change.  I had decided to have my lunch break alone, away from my
colleagues, which were now my subalterns.  I had too much on my mind to
waste my time with idle chatting.  So I drove to a mall not far from the
company premises and sat outside with a burger and a coke in front of me,
not really hungry.  Then I shadow fell on me and I felt a hand on my
shoulder.

   "Hi!  What on earth are you doing here?  It's been, how much three, no,
four years?" a rather alluring deep voice said next to my ear.  I turned
and stared into the eyes of Janice.  Not that I hadn't recognized her voice
anyway.

   All in all she looked good, the extra pounds on her hips and bust made
her look more mature but very sexy in a chubby way.  Her face had also
rounded, but she looked maybe a bit older than her true age.  She was
already in her early thirties, being a few years Karl's and my senior.  She
looked somehow haggard and her cheeks had caved in a bit and were sagging
slightly already.  Her once creamy white complexion had taken up a greyish
note and her pores were dilated.  Hadn't it been for her tiny freckles, she
would have looked quite bad in fact.  Her hair had also thinned a bit and
it was obvious she was dyeing it to a lighter and rather artificial blonde
than her natural carrot red.  Still, she had a lot of sex-appeal left,
despite all that.

   This encounter, though it would turn out to be the key to my plans, had
shocked me deeply and I could feel my hands shake with emotion.  I rose
unsteadily to my feet to greet her.  She hugged me and I had to bend down
to kiss her cheek.  I smelt it immediately.  She still smoked and a lot
too. Very good, I said to myself.

   "Hello Janice!" I said, trying to hide me inner turmoil.  "Nice to see
you after all these years.  I'm just having a solitary lunch.  I wanted
some peace for a change.  The guys I usually lunch with, are a noisy bunch,
with little respect for their boss, not in their lunch break anyway.  They
wouldn't dare to be cheeky to me at work, but they catch up on their lunch
break, when we're just some guys eating and having fun.  And to answer your
question, it's been four and a half years."

   "Oh my, how the time passed.  I was always wandering how you did.  You
never called and we never met all these years.  Seems a bit of a waste,
don't you think?  So how you've done?  You seem to have a good job and you
sure look swell, so manly and mature!  Do you mind if I have a smoke?  "

   I told her to go ahead and light up, curious what she might be smoking,
still her former brand of More?  I didn't have to wait long and I was quite
surprised, if not shocked to see her take out of her purse leather case. 
She flipped the lid open and extracted a thin and long cigar, a Panatela.
Well, she had climbed the ladder, no doubt.  Fascinated I watched how she
clipped the head of the cigar and accepted a Light from me.  Since my
return I had always carried a lighter with me for Moira, and it came in
handy.

   "Do you smoke?  Can I offer you one?" she asked proffering the leather
case.

   I shook my head.

   "No thanks, I never took up smoking.  I leave that hobby to my wife. 
She smokes enough for the two of us."

   "Hey, so you're married!" she exclaimed.  "So some other girl has picked
you.  I should have had a better instinct then.  Had I guessed what an
impressive male you'd grow into..."

   I was pleasantly surprised by her overt flirting, though I knew it was
just a game, one she had played also in the past on occasions.  But, it
went down well nevertheless.  I decided it was about time for the next
step.

   "So tell me, how is Karl, how are you two getting along?" I asked
innocently.

   "Uff, well, Karl is Karl, you know him.  We're good to each other, but
we have a sort of modern marriage, you know, no boundaries, open to
anything new."

   In other words you both fuck around, I said to myself.  At least Karl
gets it back in the same coin.  `I wasn't prepared for her next words,
though.

   "Actually, we like it best in the open.  You know, we meet another
couple and then we swap partner, do threesomes or foursomes, that kind of
stuff.  I'm not really lesbian but for a change of pace it's quite nice to
feel a soft body instead of all that hair and muscles and it's even better
when you can have both at the same time.  Shocked?"

   I must have blushed as she looked a little dismissive at me, thinking I
still was the same moralist I had been years ago.  I had blushed however
for a totally different, if not opposite reason.  She had given me the cue
I was looking for and it came for free!  Though I had had hopes they would
both agree, still, I had been prepared for a lot of sweet-talk.  Instead I
got it all, served on a tablet.

   "Why should I be shocked!  In fact I had some plans quite along those
lines, except I still need to talk my wife into it.  Actually I'm sure she
won't mind, she's quite open-minded too." I said, not quite truthfully.

   I could see the twinkling of an ironic smile in her eyes.  She probably
thought I was the kind of stupid cuckold, who would make an ass of himself
by lying to himself he had an "open" marriage, when in fact all he could
muster was to drool, while his wife did what she wanted with whomever she
wanted, right under his nose.  Well, she was partly right, but I wouldn't
give her that satisfaction.

   If all went well, I would fuck her brains out right under Karl's nose.
Karl had humped Moira already, so there wasn't that much at stake there.  I
felt a bitter-sweet thrill, imagining Moira with someone else's dick
ramming into her.  I loathed it, but I also got half a boner only from
thinking about it.  However, I had no idea how Moira would react.  I had
still to decide whether to take her by surprise at the risk she would run
away, mad like hell, or if she would agree, only to dump me like a piece of
junk afterwards or... , but I had to find out.  There would be no other way
to regain my piece of mind.  If there was the slightest chance to get on
track again and have a life with Moira in it, this was it.

   Janice smoked and chirped away about her job and their house and other
boring stuff.  Though I kept muttering approving remarks, my mind was busy
with my own problems.  Even the way she smoked her cigar, inhaling the
sharp smelling smoke deep in her lungs, artfully blowing thin streams of
smoke, did little to me, though normally I would have reacted strongly to a
woman sucking in the harsh and strong smoke like that.  I often felt that
my fetish reacted the stronger, the more nicotine was involved, though I
had mixed feeling about women smoking and inhaling big cigars, so that left
the long but slim cigars to lead the top ten of my preferences, provided
the woman in question inhaled and didn't just puff on them.

   Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Janice stubbed out the remaining
length of her cigar, more than a third of it, not bothering to smoke it up
fully.  Well you can't have them all, I thought.  She took her leave, but
not before leaving their card behind, with phone numbers, e-mails and
address on it.  The card said "Janice and Karl, an open-minded and open
couple".  Not very subtle, I thought.  Seemed they had some experience in
the field, though the card did look brand new.  But then I knew Karl, at
least the person he had been over four years ago.  I knew he had always
been sex-crazy and no woman could be hot enough to turn him into a
monogamist.  Obviously he had found a match in Janice, though it was hard
to tell whether she played ball out of necessity or because she was of the
same kind.  But then I have always had a much higher opinion of women in
general than most women deserved.  Part of my small town mid-western
education, I guess.  One can overcome only so much of the conditioning one
had been subject to in early life.