Sensitive, Compartmented, Hallmark

I was lying next to her on the bed, but it felt right then as if I was a million miles away, seeing her face as if I was looking through a telescope. My happy Hallmark movie world had just imploded.

"Don't be upset," she quietly said. "I'm here now. I'm with you because I want to be here. I chose you. I said 'yes' when your proposed, and I meant it. I'm going to be your loving wife for the rest of your life. Whatever might happen in the future is just a maybe. Right now, we're here on our honeymoon and I want to fuck you some more."

Her hand gently stroked my cock and I pretty much forgot about what we had been talking about as she rose up, stuck my hardon into her pussy, and began to ride me. Whatever doubts I had about our relationship quickly faded away.

*****

Life continued after our wedding. I got a promotion at work—which meant climbing that GS schedule pay grade to the next level. Kate jumped a step within her pay grade. We were both working and our expenses were not very high. No car payments; no student debt. We were doing really well, financially.

Our sexual chemistry continued to be explosive. Except as previously stated, there wasn't anything Kate wouldn't do; some of the stuff she suggested actually freaked me out a little bit—at least until I tried them and found that I liked them. (Turns out I like to be tied up and "tortured" by Kate until I literally beg her to let me cum.) Actually, what I really liked was giving her orgasm after orgasm until she begged me to stop making her cum. One night she came nine times—no joke. I thought my tongue was going to fall off. I could put my dick in her pussy pretty much however I wanted though her favorite position was cowgirl. She liked to be on top, and I didn't mind. We did that a lot.

As far as I know, she was faithful to me during the first few years of our marriage. I was certainly faithful to her. Our honeymoon talk about discreet and safe affairs kind of faded into the back of my mind, to be forgotten. We had a good life.

It got even better when the agency moved us across the country, to Los Angeles. Now we were two thousand miles away from Maria and Julio. No more Sunday dinner invitations. No more invitations to Mass. No more questions about what I did for a living. It was like the further we were away from them, the better we all got along.

Why did the agency move us? The story was that they wanted me closer to [deleted] to decrease [deleted]. Since the contractor [deleted] it made sense to move me closer to the action, so to speak.

So, we moved from Arlington, Virginia, to Torrance, California.

*****

Chapter 2: Los Angeles Life

Go find Los Angeles Air Force Base on a map. Draw a circle with a five-mile radius using LAAFB as the center. Within that circle you will find an office—usually an entire building—owned by nearly every single military contractor in America. Within that circle you will find companies you probably never even heard of. Go look up "Federally Funded Research and Development Center." You'll find an FFRDC within that circle. You'll find Torrance Rubber Works and Huge Aircrash Company and other companies that don't exist anymore—at least not by those old nicknames.

You'll also find LAX airport and the corporate headquarters of both Mattel and DirectTV. But those don't count. Not to me.

What you won't find within that circle are all the Secret Squirrel government offices. That's because they're hidden within all the other stuff there. Like camouflage.

When we moved to LA, I worked in one of those camouflaged offices.

Each morning, I pulled into the contractor's parking lot. I flashed my employee badge at the gate security guard. My badge indicated I was an employee of that contractor, even though I wasn't.

I parked my car in the lot just like the other thousand or so people who were actual corporate employees. I walked to the building and put my badge in the door so that the magnetic stripe was read. Then I took the elevator up a couple of floors and got out. As far as anyone could tell, it was just another level of the tall building. There was a long corridor with various names on plaques—most of which were fake. There were only a very few doors that actually opened on that floor. I walked to one of the doors that worked; it had a plaque with the corporate name and logo, and it said "Advanced Analysis Laboratory." I ran my badge through another reader. I had to enter a PIN at this point.

The door opened and I was in a small room that held lockers. I opened my locker and put my cell phone and key ring into it. I also dropped off my "employee" badge and took about another badge that didn't look anything like a normal employee badge. I also took out another key: the key to my office.

I held that new badge up to another reader that compared my face to the picture on the badge. A light flashed green and I entered another PIN. The door opened and then I was in a small waiting room. In that room was a couch and a couple of chairs. There was a water cooler. The tan carpet was lush. There was a little galley off to the side, with a microwave, a water cooler, a coffee maker, a vending machine that sold sandwiches and other snacks, and a refrigerator to keep lunches cold. It looked like any corporate executive waiting area.

In addition to everything else, there were two heavily armed and fully armored security guards inside that waiting area. These were no-fooling-around guys, with guns on hips and automatic weapons at the ready. While they watched me carefully (and suspiciously), I walked across the waiting room and ran my badge through another reader. I typed in a third PIN. The light flashed green and the two guards relaxed. I knew that if it flashed red one time, the guns would be pointed at me. If the reader flashed red twice, the safeties would be clicked off. If the reader flashed red a third time, they would order to me lie on the floor so I could be handcuffed. If I resisted their command, they would start shooting.

As I said, they were no-fooling-around guys. No senses of humor. None.

I never let that reader light flash red even once. When the light flashed green and the door opened, I entered another corridor with a dozen doors on each side. I found my door and let the palm print reader tell me it was safe to use my key to enter.

Then I started work.

I am not permitted to describe my work office. Maybe it was large and full of screens; maybe it was small, dark, and cramped. Maybe it was tidy or maybe it was overflowing with paperwork. Use your imagination.

That was my West Coast workspace.

What was Kate doing while I was at work?

The agency had found her an Executive Assistant job at the same contractor. She was the Executive Assistant for a Senior Vice President—a real, legitimate company employee. The hours were regular and the pay was much better. We needed that extra income. Even with my cost-of-living adjustment, LA was far more expensive that Virginia had been.

Still, we found a decent two-story condo about 30 minutes from work. It was about a mile from the beach. Close enough to walk to the ocean on the weekends, or to ride bikes down the coast.

We settled into our new SoCal life. I have to say, it wasn't bad at all. We both started to get tans. The food was amazing, the nightlife (when we wanted it) was excellent. We were doing fine.

Then Kate went and had an affair.

*****

It's not like she didn't warn me that she wasn't a one-guy kind of girl. I don't know why I was so shocked when she told me. She was just ... matter-of-fact about the thing.

"I gave my boss a blowjob this afternoon," she announced in the same voice she used to announce that dinner was ready.

I didn't have any words. I just stood there, looking at my wife.

She shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal. He's been flirting for a while and ... you know. Performance reviews are coming up. I thought, 'Why not?' and so I sucked him off in his office." She shook her head. "He's not nearly as big as you are, Neil. And he's a smoker so his cum tasted like ashes." She smiled. "Not like you: you taste so sweet when you cum in my mouth!"

"Uh ...." was all I managed to get out.

"Don't be like that," she said. "It was just a blowjob."

That's how it started. Their affair. It started with a blowjob but it didn't end there. Kate didn't lie to me but she didn't need to, because I understood her code.

"I have to work late" meant he was taking her out for a quick dinner and then a longer fuck—probably in one of many nearby hotels. The code phrase meant I was on my own for dinner and it also meant she wouldn't be home before eleven. I have to say, though, she was always home by midnight.

I had my own code. When she told me she had to work late, I always said, "Be safe." That was a reminder to use a condom.

Even though she was fucking her boss, our sex life never diminished in the slightest. In fact, on the days when she gave him only a blowjob, she came home horny and needy. Lovemaking on those nights would be spectacular.

On the nights when Kate "worked late" I still got laid. She would come home, take a quick but thorough shower—then made sure my needs were fully met. No matter what she did just a few hours before, she made sure that I knew I was the one she wanted. It was as if her boss was the appetizer and I was the entrée.

"His dick is so small!" she would complain. "And he can't even last five minutes before he cums!"

When she took my cock into her pussy, she would sigh. "Ahh, feels so good." Then she would ride me until she had at least one orgasm. Having two was pretty common. So, even though my wife was unfaithful, I couldn't complain. Our relationship—our marriage—didn't seem to be affected.

Kate asked me if I wanted to have sex with somebody else. The truth was, I didn't. I was fine—more than fine—with Kate. I had been a loner before I met Kate and I was still a loner at heart.

The situation continued for almost a year before Kate got pregnant and everything changed.

*****

Chapter 3: Charlie Changes Our Lives

Charlie was mine. We took a DNA test; he was my son. Kate had kept her word; although she fucked around, she had always used protection.

We didn't use condoms because she was on the pill. It turns out the pill can be 93 to 99 percent effective, depending on whether the woman follows directions. Kate may have made a couple of mistakes, or maybe not. Ninety-nine percent is never going to be one hundred percent. It's just statistics. Ask anyone who plays poker; they'll tell you about "bad beats."

Forty weeks. Kate carried Charlie for forty weeks. She got big and round. Hormones caused mood swings. Sometimes, I felt as if I was living with a stranger. At about the halfway point I came home to find her crying on the sofa. I held her and whispered that everything was going to be okay. I don't think she believed me.

After a few minutes the tears went away and we just held each other. Then she looked into my eyes, searching for something. I don't know if she found what she sought, but she started to speak.

"I'm sorry about cheating on you," she said. The tears started again. "I'm so sorry, Neil! You didn't deserve that from me. You've been nothing but kind and supportive since our first date—and I've been nothing but selfish. I'm so sorry!" She shook her head. "I'm never going to cheat on you again. I promise!"

I told her that the past didn't matter and that, when Charlie came, we would be a family. "We'll love each other," I promised. I meant it, too. We would be a Hallmark movie family.

She pushed me away until we were about a foot apart, still sitting on the sofa in our two-story Torrance condo. She looked back into my eyes for a long time. Finally, she started to speak again.

Her voice was more of a whisper. "You deserve to know why I did what I did. I owe you that."

"You don't owe me—"

"Yes. I do." She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "You know I wasn't a virgin when we first got together. I told you—"

"Right. It was that frat guy. The one who never called you again, afterwards—the bastard."

She nodded. "Yes. That was my first time. But I ... I never really told you the full story." She looked away, then looked back into my eyes again. I could feel Kate steel herself for what she was going to tell me.

"My first time was with a frat guy. In the frat house." She took another deep breath. "But he wasn't alone. There were three other guys that night." She started to cry again; her voice was gravelly, even though she was barely whispering at the point.

"It wasn't consensual, Neil. They got me drunk—really drunk—and then they stripped me and ... fuck! You know the rest. Four horny guys, one very drunk girl." She tried to smile but her mouth didn't work right. "When I woke up the next morning, I could barely remember what happened ...."

"Fuck!"

She nodded and tried to smile. "Yes, they did." The weak smile faded. "I don't remember very much about that night, but I know that I lost my virginity to four guys who ... raped me. That's what it was: rape. I never consented ... because I wasn't capable of consenting."

I was crying now. We both were. I pulled her close. We cried and held each other.

"So, I think my need to control my sexuality comes from that. I have a control thing, which is why I like to be on top and why I never want you to tie me up or do anything that might hurt me." She sighed. "And it's probably why I chose to cheat on you. That was me being in control of who gets to fuck me, because of that one time when I wasn't."

"I'm so sorry—" I said.

"And I'm so sorry if I hurt you. You didn't deserve that, Neil."

"You didn't deserve what happened to you, either. But ... we can both move on from that—can't we? Start over? Start fresh with a clean sheet of paper? Just ... be a loving family? Never hurt each other?"

She nodded. "I'd like that," she finally said. We held each other, cried some more, then kissed and went upstairs to bed, where Kate fucked my brains out. Sometimes hormones worked in my favor.

She let me be on top that night. I lifted her slender legs over my shoulders. I pounded into her until she gasped and I felt her inner muscles contract around my cock. Then I pulled out and used my tongue, sucking her pussy and clit until she came again. Then we did doggy style until I couldn't hold off anymore and came, spurting my cum into her already pregnant womb.

Wicked thing that she was, Kate made me go back down on her and lick my own cum out of her pussy until she came again, gasping nonsense words that nonetheless told me how much she loved me.

Anyway, Charlie was mine. Kate was in labor for 25 hours. She had carried Charlie for nine months then spent another day in labor. It was a difficult labor. Charlie was a big baby. I wish it was like the old times when the father just waited outside and paced. I saw shit I never wanted to see. Fucking episiotomy!

Kate was exhausted but there was no rest because she still had to nurse our newborn. Because of the difficult birth, she and Charlie were in the hospital for another two days before they were released. I was there with them most of that time.

By the time we arrived home, Maria called to tell us she was waiting at LAX and where were we?

*****

The last thing I wanted to deal with was my mother-in-law. Not right now. Not ever, if I got a vote. But I didn't get a vote because she hopped on a plane from Dulles and was waiting for pickup at LAX. She left Julio at home, running his optical shop.

She never told us she was coming. I hope she told Julio, because otherwise he was going to be mystified as to what happened to his wife of twenty-five or so years.

I made sure Kate and Charlie were okay, then I drove up to LAX to pick up my domineering red-haired mother-in-law. She was waiting on the curb while hundreds of people walked around her and her mound of luggage. My first thought when I saw here was, "Where are all those suitcases going to fit?"

My second thought was that Maria looked good. I hadn't seen her for at least two years. She was about 45 or 46 at the time, if my mental math is any good. She was Virginia pale; she still had her fiery red hair that emphasized how pale she was. Then I noticed her improbably large breasts, held up by a bra that had to be at least a 40DD—maybe larger. Her hips were wide; her ass was still as big and round as the entire Earth. She hadn't changed much, if at all, since I'd last seen her more than two years before.

She got into the car and waited impatiently as I Tetris'd her luggage into the trunk and backseat. I got anxious when I realized she packed for at least a month. How was I going to deal with Maria for an entire month?

We didn't say much to each other as I drove her to the condo.

It was a small condo—about 1,900 square feet. Two-story. A master bedroom with en suite on the upper story, along with Charlie's nursery and another full bath. On the ground floor was a kitchen and a living room with a fold-out sofa. We had a guest bathroom downstairs but it didn't have a shower. Maria was going to have to sleep on the sofa and shower in Charlie's bathroom. That was the only way this was going to work.

"So, how long are you staying for, Maria?" I asked on the way home. Please Lord, let it be for only one week! I prayed.

"Eager to get rid of me already, Neil?"

Yes, I thought. But out loud I said, "Not really. Just trying to figure out—"

"I'll be here as long as Katherine needs me," she announced with a tone of voice that proclaimed me to be an idiot. "Could be a week; maybe two. It could be longer. I'll leave when she doesn't need me anymore—and not before."

I sighed quietly. I had hoped for some bonding time with Kate and my newborn son. After all, I only had two weeks paternity leave—leave which was granted to me with great reluctance and only because it was the law. Now, it looked like my two weeks were going to be taken up caring for my exhausted wife, my infant son ... and my goddamn mother-in-law.

*****

The two weeks went surprisingly well. Maria showed me another side of her: a tender, loving side. She found reserves of energy I never knew she had. She was everywhere: cooking, cleaning, holding Charlie while Kate took a long, soothing baths. She made grocery lists and sent me out on missions to obtain the necessary foodstuffs. Her cooking repertoire was limited; mostly just arroz con pollo and other Mexican basics. But I had been in SoCal for two years by that point so Mexican was just fine with me. Maria was a good cook.

Somewhere about Day 3 I realized that we would have been lost without Maria.

I never realized just how much work a newborn was, or how slow Kate would be to recover from everything she had been through. In fact, Kate never really recovered. Instead, she endured. She lurched from one crisis to another—usually involving Charlie and his ability to cry at a volume which was probably illegal. If Maria hadn't been there, I don't think we would have made it.

We worked out a system where Kate pumped her milk and we fed Charlie while Kate tried to get some sleep. You know that feeling when you're too tired to sleep? Yeah—that was Kate. She could sleep for maybe 45 minutes before something woke her up. Maybe Charlie was crying; maybe somebody banged a pot in the kitchen. Or maybe it was her body's aches and pains.