Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ________________________________ This is a story about a sexual FANTASY
written for consenting adults.  If you're not both of those, don't read it.
Characters in a FANTASY don't get sick or die unless I want them to.  In
real life, people who don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do
get sick and die.  You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional
characters in my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY -
don't try to do what they do - someone could get hurt.

   If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here,
congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the characters
in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of
these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.

   This is my story, not yours.  Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. 
You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact,
but if you make money off of it without my permission, you're breaking the
law and pissing me off.  _________________________________ Surviving the
Divorce - Chapter 8 (HMf, MF, nc, oral, anal) (C)Copyright 2004 - Shakes
Peer2B shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net (remove 'NONO' from the above
address to contact me)
/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Shakes_Peer2B

   ________

   Before Felicia could return to us for another lesson, Thanksgiving was
upon us.  The four of us celebrated together at the house of which I was
beginning to think as 'our' house, though it had always been in Patricia's
family.

   I left the roasting of the turkey to Gwen, our cook, who did a
magnificent job.  She roasted two smaller birds instead of one large one,
putting aromatic herbs in the body cavity instead of stuffing.  The result
was much tastier and more succulent than the turkey to which I had been
accustomed during my first marriage.  Still, turkey is not my favorite
holiday meal and I took it upon myself to roast a couple of ducklings. 
Yes, I know: fatty, greasy meat and skin, but damnit, it has some TASTE to
it, especially when stuffed with apples, raisins and brown sugar, and
basted with a mixture of orange juice, soy sauce, and brown sugar!

   Patricia and Dolores, after small tastes and polite comments about the
duck, stuck with the turkey.  Felicia and I pigged out on the duck, sharing
our gluttony and shaking our heads at the narrow-mindedness of the ladies.
I also noticed that when the staff ate, the turkey went largely untouched!

   Dolores and her daughter spent the night, and in the morning, we had
Walt drop us off in Union Square.  I was never a big fan of crowds, but
Patricia and Dolores loved shopping on the first official day of the
Christmas shopping season.  Christmas carols spilled from speakers
somewhere, bells jingled, and the sidewalks were crowded with early
shoppers.

   We were making our way slowly from Saks to Macy's when a voice called
out of the crowd.

   "Gary?  Gary!"

   I turned and there was Mary, my ex, looking about twenty pounds lighter
than when I last saw her, trying to force her way through the crowd.  In
the haze of our declining years together, I had forgotten just how pretty
she could be.  Mary had always had the kind of fresh good looks that went
with bobby socks and poodle skirts.  Even now, her flipped-up hair style
looked like something out of 'Happy Days'.

   "Mary?" I asked, "What are you doing here?  Uh, Patricia, this is my
first wife, Mary.  Mary, this is Patricia, my wife."

   How awkward can introductions get?

   Patricia, as always, remained poised and calm, though I knew her well
enough by now to know that her stress level had just gone up dramatically.
Mary was flustered but managed to get through it okay.

   "Oh!" she said, "I had heard you remarried!  Uh, Patricia, is it?  Hi!
Nice to meet you!"

   I couldn't imagine anything being further from the truth, but it's what
one says when blind-sided by the new spouse, isn't it?

   "Mary!" Patricia gushed, and I could have sworn she was sincere, "How
nice to finally meet you!  Why, Gary, she does NOT have a tail and horns!"

   Mary had never gotten most of my jokes, and she was totally unprepared
for Patricia.

   "Tail and...?" she looked at me, eyes wide, "Gary?  What have you been
saying about me?!"

   "I'm joking, Mary!" Patricia said, "He actually talks about you very
little, and when he does, it's mostly complimentary.  You know Gary, honest
to a fault!"

   "Oh!" Mary blushed, "Sorry!  Look, I'm in town for a job interview, and
well, I wondered if I might have a few moments to talk to you, Gary."

   "This is really a bad time, Mary." I said.  It wasn't that I didn't want
to talk to her, but I desperately wanted to avoid offending Patricia. 
"We're kind of on a group outing here.  By the way, you remember Dolores,
don't you?  And this is her daughter, Felicia."

   "Oh, uh, hi Dolores!" Mary said, "I was sorry to hear about your
divorce."

   "Not nearly as sorry as my Priest," Dolores laughed, "and my Mother went
through the roof!"

   "And this is Felicia!" Mary gazed longingly at the young teen, perhaps
regretting our decision not to have kids, "You are a beautiful young lady!"

   "Um, thanks!" Felicia mumbled, blushing.

   Mary turned back to me, and in a voice as close to a whisper as the
crowd noise allowed, said, "I really need to talk to you Gary!  I lost my
job and this interview didn't go well!  I don't know what I'm going to do!"

   I glanced desperately at Patricia, who rescued me by saying, "Why don't
you join us for dinner tonight, Mary!  You'll have plenty of time to talk
then!"

   I shot her an 'Are you sure?' look, but Patricia just smiled and patted
the back of my hand as it lay on her arm.

   "Oh!  That's very kind of you!" Mary replied, "But I wouldn't want to
impose, and, well, I hoped to speak with Gary in private..."

   I fielded that one.  "Mary, I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but
I will not have secrets from Patricia, so anything you have to say to me,
you can say in her presence.  Please, come to dinner.  We'll talk then."

   "Well, okay." she said, still unsure of herself.

   "Where are you staying, dear?" Patricia asked.

   "I um, have a room at the Marriott for one more night." Mary replied.

   "Excellent!" Patricia said warmly, "I'll send the car around for you,
say seven-thirty?"

   As we parted ways, I turned to my wife and said, "You didn't have to do
that, but thank you!"

   "I'm very pragmatic, Gary." Patricia explained, "I don't believe for a
moment that she's a threat to our marriage, but if she is, then it's best
that I know about it immediately.  If, as I suspect, she's not a threat,
then there's no harm in having her around."

   "I've always been honest with you, Patricia." I said earnestly, "I won't
pretend that, after so many years of marriage, there are no emotional ties
between myself and Mary, but please believe me when I say that there is no
way in hell that I'm giving you up for ANYONE!"

   She looked into my soul for a few moments, then gave me that dazzling
smile, the tension draining out of both of us, and said, "Then we'll have a
pleasant dinner, I'll get to know her better, find out what she wants, and
we'll take it from there!"

   We forgot about Mary for the rest of the shopping trip.  Felicia wound
up buying some clothes on Patricia's credit card, but mostly, it was window
shopping and enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the Holiday.

   Mary was obviously overwhelmed by the limo ride, the house, and the
dinner, which was served by the household staff.

   When we had done eating, we took a 'digestif' in the library, mine an
excellent single malt scotch, Patricia's a fine cognac.  Mary opted for
coffee, and the cook brought in a tray of sweets.

   "So what's this about you having lost your job?" I said, "I thought your
boss liked you?"

   Mary was an executive admin, and, in my opinion, a damned fine one.  She
didn't have the qualms some younger women have about doing personal chores
for her boss, because she believed that her job was to make it possible for
him to be as effective on the company's behalf as possible.  She guarded
slots on his calendar jealously, made sure he got to his thrice-weekly
workouts, took care of his expense reports, and made sure he got to where
he needed to be, when he needed to be there.  Mary had even gotten
proficient at signing his name on unimportant documents, so that others
wouldn't see him, with his busy schedule, as a bottle-neck.

   "Oh, he did like me," Mary said sadly, "but he was recruited by a
company that wouldn't let him bring in his own admin, and there were no
other openings with my company.  In this economy, a lot of executives are
sharing admins or doing without, and there are a lot of us out there,
looking."

   "But even so," I said, "you should have enough put away for a while, and
the house was paid for..."

   "I used my savings to pay you off for your half of the house," she said,
"and took out an equity loan to redecorate after you left.  Now I'm in debt
up to my ears, my savings are gone, and I don't know what to do!"

   I thought about it for a while, and suddenly realized that if Patricia
was willing to go along, Mary might well be the answer to a sticky problem
we'd been having at one of my wife's companies.

   "Let me sleep on it, okay?" I said, "I may be able to come up with
something to help."

   "Oh!  That would be wonderful!" Mary said, "Look, Gary, I know you have
neither legal nor moral obligation to help me on this, but I would be very
grateful for anything that you can do!"

   We chatted a little longer, catching up on the goings on in the old
neighborhood and swapping tales about mutual acquaintances.

   When the evening wound down, Patricia asked Edgar to show Mary out, and
to have Walt drive her back to the hotel.

   When she was gone, my wife turned to me, saying, "Okay, Gary, out with
it!  I know that look, and you've got something up your sleeve!"

   "Well, first, let me reiterate what Mary said," I told her, "I have no
legal or moral obligation to her, and you certainly are not constrained to
even give her the time of day.  That said, she may well be the answer to
our little problem at SyncComp."

   "You mean...?" then her face burst into a smile, "Of course!  He doesn't
know her, and she's gone back to using her maiden name.  She can't be
threatened by him if she goes in with her eyes open and knows we'll back
her up, and if we play it right, we'll not only get a sticky problem off
our hands, but a nasty predator will wind up in jail!  You're a genius!"

   "We also serve, who sit and think." I said, with mock humility.  "But we
also need to come up with something more permanent for her.  If this works,
she'll be out of a job again in a couple of months or less."

   The CEO of SyncComp was rumored to have made unwanted advances to two of
his former admins.  They were afraid of his connections, though, and
refused to testify against him.  One after the other, they had left him and
now the job was open.  We hoped that Mary's qualifications would get her
in, and that her newly trim figure and attractive face would be the bait
for a trap.

   The next day was Saturday, and we arranged to take Mary to the airport
in the limo.  On the way, we explained what we had in mind.

   "I can't do that!" Mary exclaimed, "If word gets out that I ratted on my
boss - even if he's a rat himself - I'll never be able to get another job!
This position is all about trust, and no one will trust an admin who got
her boss in trouble with the law!"

   "That's exactly the threat he's used to keep the other victims quiet." I
told her, "Until someone speaks up, he'll continue to get away with it. 
But you have an advantage - you're guaranteed a soft landing.  Patricia and
I will see to it that you either have a job or that you don't lack for
money for the rest of your life.  This guy has to be stopped, Mary, and
you're the one who can do it!"

   "I would consider it a personal favor, dear." Patricia said, and when
she did, you knew she meant it and that she took personal favors VERY
seriously.

   "Are you sure nothing bad will happen to me?" she asked.

   "We will do our best to make sure that doesn't happen." I said, "We'll
have the police involved and you'll be wearing a listening device at all
times.  Someone will always be nearby in case of trouble."

   "I guess I don't have much choice, do I?" Mary said reluctantly. 
_______

   Sunday, after church, Felicia called to ask if she could come over, and
since we had nothing planned, we agreed.

   This time, Patricia insisted that the little teen seduce me.  I sat on
the bed, trying to be as cooperative as possible, as those small, trembling
hands fumbled with buttons and zippers, totally unfamiliar with men's
clothing.  There was nothing immature about the way Felicia kissed me,
however!  Her soft, pliant lips melted against mine, and her little tongue,
quick as a bird, darted about the inside of my mouth.

   Following Patricia's directions, Felicia nibbled her way down my neck to
my chest.  On a whim, she took a chunk of my pect between her teeth and
gave it a delicious nip, before making her way to my nipple.  Now, there my
be he-men out there who think that nipple play is for girls and faggots,
but I've got to tell you, when a pretty young thing starts licking,
sucking, and biting at my nipples, I don't care what it looks like!  It
feels GOOD!

   Felicia worked both of my nipples over thoroughly, and by the time she
moved southward, I was rock hard!

   I've had blowjobs by some of the best.  Certainly, my lovely wife ranks
very high on that list, but something about the tentative way that young
lady took me in her mouth, and how she gradually warmed to her task,
following Patricia's directions, made me incredibly horny!  Her technique
needed a little polish, but the innocence and shyness with which she sucked
at my pulsing rod more than made up for her lack of experience!

   Try as she might, Felicia just could not get me past the restriction of
her throat.  It wasn't her gag reflex getting in the way.  My shaft
couldn't even go deep enough to trigger her gag reflex!

   No matter, the eagerness of her attempts, and the very fact that my
middle-aged cock was embedded in the mouth of a fifteen-year-old soon had
me on edge!  With a little more roughness than I intended, I grabbed a
double-handful of the teen's wavy black hair and lifted her forcibly off my
cock.

   "Unless you're prepared to swallow my load, young lady," I rasped,
"you'd better back off for a while!"

   With a wicked grin, the little demoness forced her tiny mouth once more
over my glans.  I heard Patricia whisper in her ear...

   "Bite!" she commanded, "Hard!"

   Felicia looked at her in alarm, out of the corners of her eyes.

   "Trust me, dear." Patricia smiled, "I don't want him damaged any more
than you do.  Do as I say!"

   With that, those perfect white teeth clamped down on my shaft about an
inch below the head.  That did it!  Felicia didn't break the skin, but the
pressure, and the thought of what COULD have happened, boosted me into
orbit!  My rocket blasted into the tiny teen mouth as my guts forcefully
pumped out every last milliliter of fluid they could scrape together!

   Like the trouper she was, Felicia gulped and swallowed, gagging a little
as I got ahead of her, but when I had finished spasming, she lifted her
head, looked me in the eye, and lasciviously licked her lips.  Patricia
didn't teach her that!  That was the natural-born tease in her!

   "There!" My wife said, "Now he won't be so likely to cum again very
soon, and you can have a nice, long leisurely screw!  You'll especially
want to remember this with younger guys.  They tend to have hair triggers
unless you relieve the pressure a little for them."

   "But now he's going soft!" Felicia cried, "How's he going to fuck me
like that?"

   "I don't know who told you boys can only get hard once, dear." Patricia
lectured, "Now that you've relieved the pressure, it just means he'll have
to work harder to cum the second time.  All you have to do to get him
started, is continue what you were just doing.  Remember to stop once he's
hard, though, if you want to feel that thing inside you today."

   It didn't take long.  Ever since I met Patricia, it was almost like I
was on a Viagra drip.  Our sexual escapades were so exciting that I seemed
to have regained the libido I had at twenty!

   My sexy wife shed her own clothes as Felicia got me hard, and when the
young lady figured I was hard enough, Patricia told her: "Get on your hands
and knees and get me ready, Felicia dear."

   Felicia obediently knelt to use her mouth on Patricia, and I knee-walked
between her legs, approaching her upthrust buttocks.  The crinkled little
ring that winked at me from the valley between her cheeks was quite
inviting, but that was for a later session.  I tested the schoolgirl's
vaginal opening with a gentle finger and found it to be well and truly
lubricated.  Without further ado, I introduced my rampant cock to the
twitching little mound that had for so long been just out of my reach - a
promise that could not be fulfilled, until now.

   Ever so slowly, mindful of the fact that mine was only the second cock
to find its way into that tight, hot little tunnel, I inched my way, in
fits and starts, deep into Felicia's little belly.  She was more relaxed,
so I was able to go deeper than Patricia had before the initial resistance
of her youthful flesh stopped me.  I held my ground, still with two or
three inches to go, and flexed within her.  Each time I flexed, Felicia
moaned around Patricia's cockhead.  Soon, though, she began pushing back in
little lunges, taking me a fraction deeper each time.

   "That's enough, dear," Patricia said, gently withdrawing from Felicia's
mouth.  "Would you like to see one of the primary reasons I'm grateful to
have been born with this big dick?"

   Felicia nodded.

   "Then watch our reflection in the mirror, sweetie." My wife said softly.
"Before I met Gary, I have to admit to having ambiguous feelings about
this. My hunk of a husband, though, has allowed me to be all that I can be,
in ways those Army recruiting commercials never dreamed of!"

   Taking a tube of lubricant from the nightstand drawer, she quickly
lubricated the subject of her soliloquy.

   "Now watch in the mirror, Felicia." she said, kneeling behind me as I
bent over the teen's back.  "This is SO sexy!"

   The mirror was on our left and we were almost in profile.  I had, of
course, become quite accustomed to having Patricia's big prick up my butt,
so it went in smoothly, with only a minor twinge or two, all the way to the
hilt.  Truth to tell, this had become one of MY favorite things, too. 
Unless we were playing a scene of some sort, my lovely wife's plundering of
my fundament was always done with so much love and affection that having
that warm, hard, velvet covered pole inside me was not only sexy as hell,
but somehow comforting!

   "Ohmigod!" Felicia muttered as she watched me being impaled in much the
same way as she was, "That is SO COOL!  Doesn't it hurt, Uncle Gary?"

   "Used to, a little." I replied, panting, "Now, it just feels big and
warm, and the fact that it's my wife's penis just does things to me inside
that you can't even imagine!"

   "Maybe, but from the way you just got harder inside me," she said, "I'd
have to say I believe you!"

   She was right!  Suddenly, she felt much tighter around my shaft!  As
Patricia started to move inside me, Felicia began bucking back at me, never
taking her eyes off the mirror.

   "Oh God!" she moaned, "Every time you push in, Aunt Patricia, his thing
jumps inside me!  That is so SICK!"

   (For those of you who don't have teenagers, 'sick' is apparently a good
thing, these days, sort of like 'bad' was a couple of decades ago!)

   I don't think I've ever had a running narration of a fuck before, but it
was all so new to Felicia that she felt she had to tell someone about all
the marvelous new discoveries she was making!

   "Oh!" she cried at one point, "You're all the way inside me!  Aunt
Patricia, it feels like Uncle Gary's dick is pushing against the bottom of
my lungs!  Oh damn, that's hella good!  You look SO hot screwing his butt
like that!  I wish I had a dick so I could do that!  Oh yeah!  Do that some
more!  It feels like you're stirring up my guts, Uncle Gary!  So DEEP!  Oh
GOD!  Here it comes!  OH OH OH OH OH OH OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

   Felicia nearly squeezed the blood out of my dick when she came, but
thanks to her having fellated me earlier, I never paused.  I gave Patricia
a rest and took over the fucking, impaling myself on her cock on the
outstroke, and burying myself deep in my young 'niece' on every incursion.
Felicia never came down from that first orgasm.  As my assault intensified,
so did Felicia's orgasm!  I took her tiny pink nipples between thumb and
forefinger and pulled them away from her chest, rolling them between my
fingers for good measure.  Releasing one nipple, I let my hand drift down
her flat little belly to her almost hairless cleft.

   When I found, and gently stroked, her little bud, Felicia screamed at
the top of her lungs!  Her muscles spasmed, and the little schoolgirl
lifted me and my wife bodily off the bed as her legs straightened
involuntarily!  When she collapsed, face down on the bed, I followed her
down, almost losing contact with Patricia's cock.

   As Felicia lay there, gasping, her legs spread obscenely, I began a
series of long, deep strokes.  Those fragile little hips cocked upward to
give me access, and I went even deeper!  Patricia simply held still above
me and let me fuck myself as I pounded our little 'niece'.  Without
warning, my lovely wife slammed hard into me, blasting my guts with the
molten lava of her discharge!  This, in turn, caused me to crash into
Felicia's buttocks and fill her womb with my own eruption!  Damn!  I
thought I would explode!  Tiny muscles inside me milked my sexual glands of
every last drop of slime!

   As the last dregs dribbled into our teen lover, I rolled sideways,
pulling Felicia with me so that I could remain inside her without crushing
her under our weight.  Patricia's cum was still pumping into me, filling me
with that indescribable feeling that few men ever get to experience with a
woman!

   As we cleaned up, taking a communal shower, my lovely wife told Felicia,
"Next time, we'll strap a dildo on you and let you see what it's like to
fuck a man in the ass."

   "Ooooh!" Felicia cooed, "I can't wait!"

   "Well," I said, "turn about's fair play.  You screw my ass, I screw
yours...!"

   "You can't be serious!" she cried in alarm, "There's no way you'll fit
up there!

   "Sure there is, dear!" Patricia said, shoving a wet finger in 'there'
for emphasis, "We just have to take our time and get you ready properly.  I
have a feeling you're going to just LOVE it!"

   From the way the little girl undulated on my wife's finger, I had a
feeling she was right.

   _______

   I used my own connections to get Mary's resume in the right hands,
keeping Patricia out of it.  The interviews went well, and Mary was hired a
month and a half later.

   We contacted the police about our suspicions and our plans, but the
'wire' they wanted her to wear would be far too easy to detect, so we
convinced them to let her use one made by one of Patricia's companies - a
SyncComp subsidiary, actually.  The device was microscopic and didn't have
much range, but a repeating transmitter disguised as a lipstick was in her
purse.  It had a range of about half a mile.

   The cops coached Mary on how to act and react.  We let them in one
weekend before the start of Mary's employment to install surveillance
equipment in the executive suite.  There was, conveniently, construction
going on in the lot next to the SyncComp building, and the cops were able
to set up a trailer on the site that just looked like another contractor's
temporary office.

   "Okay, Mary," the lead detective, Chase, coached "just to be sure, tell
me again what you're going to say if you think you're in trouble."

   "I'm going to say 'Stop this right now!'" Mary dutifully repeated, then
added, "And please do!  This guy gives me the creeps!  I wasn't sure I'd
make it through the interview the way he kept staring at me!"

   "We will, Mary." Chase assured her, "But please try to let us get as
much incriminating evidence as you can before you call us in, okay?  If we
don't get enough to take this guy down, all of this is wasted time and
effort."

   Mary nodded, then swallowed hard.

   Patricia and I insisted they call us when anything happened and
Detective Chase promised they would.

   For the first three weeks, nothing untoward occurred.  Mary's new boss
was the soul of decorum, and she began to relax, thinking it had all been a
mistake, that maybe he liked to look but wasn't about to do anything.

   Then, a little after six on a Friday evening, the first week of
February, we got a call.  I drove us down in my car and we wore jeans and
work shirts to avoid attracting attention.  As we entered the surveillance
trailer, we could hear Mary's trembling voice through the monitors.

   "Please don't do that, Mr.  Hansen!" there was a little girl quality to
her voice that I had never heard before, "It's not right!"

   On the monitor, Hansen had her trapped face first against the file
cabinet in her office, one hand down her blouse, inside her bra, the other
down the back of her pantyhose, her skirt pulled up around her waist.

   "Nobody's here, Mary," he said, as if giving dictation, "and if you ever
say anything to anyone, I'll see to it that you never work again!  I have a
lot of connections in this industry, you know!"

   "Please, Mr.  Hansen!" she cried, "I won't say anything, just let me
go!"

   "Let you go?" Hansen growled, "You've been flirting with me ever since
you got here!  I know what you want, you little whore!  Now you're going to
get what you've been asking for!"

   With that, he tore down her panties and pantyhose, holding her against
the filing cabinet with one hand as he freed his erection from his
trousers. Mary sobbed, but said nothing as he forcefully slammed into her
from behind!

   "This is good stuff!" Detective Chase said, "With this, not even the
best lawyer in the world will be able to get him off!"

   Patricia and I looked at each other.

   "Why doesn't she call them in?" I whispered to her.

   "Did you notice?" Patricia said, "She had no trouble taking him!  No
scream, and he went all the way in with one stroke."

   "She's turned on!" I finally got it, "She's getting off on this
treatment!"

   Patricia nodded, and we went back to watching the monitors with new
eyes.

   Even when Hansen grabbed her by the hair and threw her face down on the
desk, Mary didn't use her safety phrase!  She screamed as Hansen plowed her
ass, but it wasn't until he tried to force his dirty cock into her mouth
that she finally said "Stop this right now!"

   "GO!" Chase shouted into his radio, "GO!  GO!  GO!"

   The uniformed cops who had silently gathered in the corridor outside the
office burst through the door, weapons at the ready, and Hansen stood,
dumbfounded, his pants around his ankles as they cuffed him.  For good
measure, they took pictures before pulling his drawers up over his filthy,
wilted cock.

   We had Walt bring Edgar down to the police station to meet us.  Edgar
drove my Buick back to the house with instruction to have the staff prepare
a room for Mary, and to bring her things from the apartment she had been
renting while waiting for the house in San Diego to sell.

   When the police were finally finished 'de-briefing' Mary, they released
her into our care.

   "Thank you, Mary." Chase said, "You were very brave to hang in there and
let us get the goods on this guy!"

   We bundled Mary into the limo and Patricia held her as she sobbed almost
all the way back to the house.  We put her to bed and Patricia led me into
the library, locking the doors behind us.
   "Gary," she said, "we need to talk."