Hello FiremanJr Is the offer still open? I have completed the rewriting.

You are doing a great job here KunleAJ. Thanks for the mention.

Love Almost Lost - By Aurora
.
Episode 6
.
The secret is to not get caught. Once that happens their love for you seeps out slowly
.
I'd spent most of Sunday copying account numbers and some of the other information I knew he'd need from documents Laura and I had in our files.

I had Carl set me up in the accounting as a paying customer of Information and Surveillance Associates.

I'd pay that branch of my firm from my personal checking account. It was a little thing but it would keep any auditor happy.

We discussed ways and means of putting tails on my wife to see where she went, who she went with, and what they did when they got there.

I felt guilty, and that was foolish. The hurt from this last weekend, combined with what I'd realized Friday night had been a steadily intensifying alienation from Laura's affection, made this a necessity. There were things I needed to know.

Frankly, if Laura was doing nothing to harm the marriage, she'd never know what I was doing and maybe I'd find a way to suggest we go to a marriage counselor to resolve whatever "issues" she was laboring under.

If she was doing something a married woman shouldn't do--well, that was something I desperately needed to know.

********

By noon, Carl's guys and gals had gotten into Laura's Lexus at the office building downtown where she worked.

It wasn't difficult. My name was on the title too, so I gave them my key.

They installed a sound powered microphone under the driver's seat. The signal from the tiny transmitter could be heard anywhere within a 1-mile radius.

The mike itself was sensitive enough to pick up a soft whisper inside the well-soundproofed car. A GPS transmitter was put in a hidden corner of the trunk and began to immediately broadcast the vehicle's location
accurate to within a few feet.

Carl had seven of his best people working the case and had dedicated five vehicles to the project. All of the cars and vans were rentals he'd had gone over by our own in-house mechanics to ensure they wouldn't die when needed most.

One additional girl, a free-lancer with excellent credentials applied for a job in Laura's accounting firm and expected to start the next week.

Carl told me to sit back and let him take care of everything. There were operating procedures already in place to handle things like this and it was best I stay out of it for the present.

That depressed me even more. If Laura was cheating on our marriage, it was such a tawdry, mundane thing that there already were standard procedures to deal with it.

He also told me I had a choice. If they found out of an impending "tryst," they could try to break it up if my purpose was to do so...or we could hold off and get quantities of pictures and video for a divorce trial.

I opted for interrupting any assignation they found out about. I didn't have to think about it. I wanted my wife back.

He nodded, and asked me to try and not upset Laura in her routine. When we got to a decision point, he'd let me
know.

********

Instead, I let him know a cusp had already come and gone. That night I called him from the basement after listening to the recordings from the cell phone intercept.

The information so gathered wasn't legal but we weren't expecting to use it in court. Carl answered on the second ring.

"Carl?" I asked. My voice was thick with emotion and he picked up on it immediately.

"Oh, geeze," he said. "What's happened?" The concern he felt was evident. I took a deep breath and held it for a moment to get control of myself.

"You know the cell phone and land line intercepts I had you install when we built the house?" I asked.

"Yeah...uh, sorry we couldn't get over there today and set up the remote monitoring equipment, but--"

"Oh, I know, Carl...there's only 24 hours in a day, right? Don't think anything about it. Anyway, Carl, I have a recorded conversation between Laura and some guy called "Brian" about 7:00 PM."

I drew in a ragged lungful of air and continued. "You'll be able to hear it yourself tomorrow, I guess...but "Brian" talked of "fucking Laura's brains out...AGAIN soon," to quote the son of a bitch."

I wanted to cry, but I wouldn't let the tears form. I couldn't stop the ball of ice from forming in the pit of my stomach.

My body felt wooden, as if I were surrounded by massive layers of cotton that deadened every sensation.

My chest hurt; I couldn't breath. Laura was having sex with some other guy and I didn't know why. I couldn't think of any reason I'd given her for going outside the marriage for sex and I didn't know why she would betray me and our daughter this way. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Anyway, Carl," I said when I had enough control, "that changes our focus. I'm going to call Pete tomorrow morning and start the process of divorcing Laura...so I guess what we need now is to get all the evidence we
can find."

"Pete" was Peter Robinson, a high-powered lawyer on retainer for MA Industries, and also my personal attorney.

"Yeah, Mark, I guess there's not much else we can do," Carl said, his words slow and halting. "Aw, Mark...I'm just so sorry," he said. "I don't have the words to tell you how sorry I am," he told me. His empathy helped some.

"Yeah, I know, Carl," I replied, my voice a little stronger.

"Thanks partner...but it's on Laura's head. It's no one else's fault, but I have a little girl who's going to be devastated. She and I are the victims...and I don't understand why Laura did this."

I focused my attention. I didn't want to play the long-suffering husband beyond this single maudlin moment.

"Okay...well, I just wanted you to know we'll be working in a different direction effective immediately," I told him. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Sure, Mark," he agreed. "Hey, take it easy tonight, okay? Don't do anything you'll regret, boss," he said earnestly.

I knew he was warning me not to do anything to physically harm my wife.

"I'm okay, Carl," I told him. "I ran the tape on this intercept 3 hours ago and I'm already way beyond that."

I hesitated a moment. "I will tell you, Carl, I won't be sleeping with her tonight or any other night. I'll have to figure out some excuse, but I won't sleep with a woman that stabs me in the back...figuratively or actually.

There are things I can do and things I cannot do...I know it'll make the investigation harder but I just can't." My
voice cracked with the final words but Carl didn't remark on it.

"That's okay," he said soothingly, "it might take a little longer, Mark, but...people who are doing these sort of things...always think they're smarter than the rest of us. They're convinced they can keep their adultery hidden from their spouse, as well as the rest of the world, and they have no clue what they're doing is predictable and pretty easy to track." I didn't say anything.

"Well...you hang in there, boss," Carl told me. "This will all come out okay, no matter how it gets taken care of, you hear me? You're going to come out the other side of this, stronger than you went in, okay?"

"One way or the other, yeah, I will," I replied, but I didn't believe it. All I saw was a black hole full of suffering and humiliation ahead for me and my daughter.

I hadn't even begun to consider all the heartache this was going to cause her.

"Okay, Mark...call me if you need me for anything, all right? Call me...even if it's just to talk, okay?" I told him I would and pressed the "off" button on my cell phone.

I turned the intercept equipment back on to catch any more communications between my dear wife and whoever it was she was fucking.

********

I slept in a guest bedroom down the hall that night, telling Laura I had a dry throat and some congestion that might make me snore pretty badly. She agreed quickly and without comment.

Besides, I told her, it would be closer to Alyssa if she might need one of us in the night. That our little girl had wet the bed a couple of times last week was news to Laura but she shrugged her shoulders and went back to her magazine.

What I recognized as an emotional problem our daughter was experiencing made no impression on Laura.

Carl came to me with a preliminary report the next afternoon. Laura's sex buddy was Brian Collier, one of the accounting executives in the same office where Laura worked.

He was one of three division supervisors, as was Laura.

He was married and had a boy who was 9 years old and a 7-year-old girl. His wife was Pamela, a part time insurance agent in an office across town.

Brian was 38, a little taller than I was but quite a bit slighter. I'd been an amateur boxer in the Golden Gloves organization in my early teens and had gotten into weight lifting to improve my upper body strength and leg stamina.

I dropped the boxing when I went to college, but I still lifted a couple of times a week. Mr. Collier, as he appeared in the one photo Carl had found so far, was more of a runner, if he was an athlete at all.

I didn't know what women considered handsome, but I guessed he might be good looking to the ordinary female, but not exceptionally so.

Overall, I wasn't terribly impressed. I wondered it was about him that would tempt Laura to disregard our wedding vows so flagrantly and meet this joker for sex.

Carl had obtained a full two-year history of Laura's phone records, bribing a contact he had with the phone company, and some of his people had gone over them quickly.

A first analysis showed that there were initially only a few phone calls between the two over widely separated occasions.

A little less than six months ago, the calls had begun to be a weekly event, and eventually a daily one. Now, they were occurring two or three times a day, usually at night or early in the morning.

Carl knew what time I came in to work and he told me unequivocally the two were talking almost every morning after I left the house.

The evening calls were almost always initiated by Laura and were undoubtedly made when Laura could be sure I would not overhear... probably when I was down in the basement lifting weights while my daughter kept me company.

The timing was about right for my normal workout periods.

"Do you have anything you can tell me about what happened about the time the phone calls began to spike?"

Carl asked. He was being very businesslike about it all and I appreciated that. It made it marginally easier to deal with it from my end.

I leaned back in my chair to think and even propped my feet up on the near corner of my desk. Seeing me relax a little, Carl did the same on the other side of the desk.

Suddenly it came to me.

"Oh! Well, maybe not...she went to a training seminar a couple of weeks before that in Chicago with a company that had hired her firm to audit their financial records," I said uncertainly.

I was remembering more as I thought about it.

"You know--" I said. I stopped while a fragment of a memory coalesced into something I could see in my mind.

*******
To be continued...

Apologies for keeping you waiting, Update is here donweasley, Amarita, aprilwise AryEmber LightQueen teebee22

LightQueen:
Awwwn interesting. Keep it coming dear

Thanks Queen

Episode 5

* teebee22, donweasley, Amarita, AryEmber, aprilwise

They Want To Know Where You Are Going Wrong, Not Because They Want To Prove You Wrong But Because Their Love Sees No Hesitation In Helping You

*

I lifted my chin in greeting to Phil Sanders, one of the first people I'd hired.

Opening the door, I tossed him a quick "Hello" and busied myself getting my palm pilot and briefcase from the rear seat.

Instead of going inside immediately, I looked at the brilliantly colored logo.

MA Industries. That's me...Mark Archer. At 34, I was CEO and president of a privately held little corporation that had started out as a small tool-manufacturing company twelve years ago.

We had found a niche making "tilt and pan" motor mounts for home security cameras.

Working hard to sell ourselves, we found a number of private investigation companies who had a need for quality surveillance equipment.

Over the years, we gradually built up a solid base of customers who came to trust us to provide high quality, remotely controlled mounts.

Eight years ago, we bought out a small company that made some excellent color cameras with an impressive optical zoom feature.

The whole thing, including a powerful transmitter and separate receiver that could connect to an ordinary TV, was smaller than a woman's lipstick case.

Now my little corporation had the whole package and we began marketing our products all over the state and had plans to begin selling them on the Internet.

After that, we absorbed a couple of private investigation agencies and combined them into a division we named "Information and Surveillance Associates."

In a year, we had branch offices in three other cities.

Overall, MA Industries was doing quite well, though we maintained a comfortably low profile.

********

In my office, I signed the papers my secretary/office manager put in front of me without bothering to review
them.

This was the "routine activity" stack and they didn't really need my attention, but they did need my signature.

I've gotten into the habit of teasing her by calling her "Radar" every so often and did so now.

She always responded tartly with an admonition for "Colonel Potter" to pay attention to what he was doing.

Maggie was the glue that kept our business office together.

When she was on vacation, the place didn't run nearly as smoothly and I dreaded the day she would come to tell me she was retiring.

To stave off that day as long as possible, I paid her as well as each of the three company vice-presidents.

She knew that...they didn't.

"Maggie," I said when she brought me in the first mug of coffee for the day. "Maggie, would you please have Carl Winters come see me?"

"Sure," she replied promptly. She looked at me curiously.

"Can I say why?" she asked. I shook my head, but reconsidered almost immediately.

I felt a need to say something in partial explanation.

Maggie was a second mother to me and had been since we started out in a renovated warehouse back in the old days.

"Just tell him I need to become a customer of his," I said slowly, not looking at Maggie.

She didn't say anything for a moment.

"Aw, darn it all," she said softly. "I'm so sorry, Mark."

She sniffed softly, bit her lips, and left quickly.

I stared after her, wondering what she knew or perhaps had divined.

Carl headed up our combined surveillance and private investigations division and Maggie had read something into my request to see him as a customer.

That she had accepted my need without question was unsettling.

********

"What's up, Mark?" Carl asked, coming in my office door.

I motioned him to close the heavy oak door.

I sat, looking at nothing in particular, while he took his first sip of tea from the big mug Maggie had brewing for him when he arrived.

"Carl--" I started to explain, but I had to stop to clear my throat.

It was hard to swallow. The tightness there was matched by stomach muscles so tense they hurt.

"Carl, I need...I'm afraid Laura is getting into something that she'll regret," I said slowly.

I was trying to carefully choose my words, not wanting to tell him I suspected she was seeing a man behind my back.

"Ah, shit, Mark," he responded dejectedly.

"Damn, I'm sorry to hear that," he said. We both took a deep breath.

Carl sat the mug on the corner of my desk and stared at his fingernails without speaking. I didn't know what to say either.

"Well--" he said after an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, we've got everything we need to...find out for sure.

I can get a few temps to come in and replace some of our guys to free them up for a concentrated effort.

Can you give me an idea of Laura's work schedule, her cell phone number, computer logins, credit card numbers...stuff like that?"

I nodded. I started to object to having in-house personnel work the case instead of bringing in outsiders for that purpose but quickly realized Carl wanted to have the best people possible working the issue. Sighing, I bent to the side of my desk and pulled my brief case closer.

aprilwise:
Na so ?

don't get jealous bro

AryEmber:
I love the start, keep it coming.

I promise to keep doing well

teebee22:
pls come and update o

Oh teebee22, thank you for following. Even if I had no intention of updating today I will do it because of you

Amarita:
Lovely... Nice one

Thanks miss, I really appreciate it

teebee22:
Awwwwww, I got a mention. thanks for the mention and the update.
expecting your next update.

You deserve it and more, thanks for following

Episode 4
*
aprilwise, teebee22
*
Because They Love You, They Doubt You Are Wrong
*
It was a frosty, uncomfortable weekend between Laura and me. She'd come home in the wee hours of the morning and spent most of Saturday with a hangover so bad the slightest noise caused her pain.

After suffering Laura's short temper for a time, Alyssa and I bailed out and went to the park and we didn't come home until after dinnertime.

That didn't suit Laura very well at all. She lit into me when Alyssa and I got home, expressing her opinion, at length, of a husband and daughter who abandoned her.

I took it for a while but quickly got fed up. I told her she'd brought it on herself by going out on me and abandoning her daughter the night before.

I said she would have to get used to the idea that Alyssa and I spent this afternoon alone, and probably would again, by ourselves and we'd had a fantastic time.

Deal with it the best way she could, I said.

Whatever she did, I told her – without attempting to hide my irritation – deal with it civilly or shut the hell up.

I'd never spoken to her that way and it took Laura by surprise.

The shock, if nothing else, kept her quiet and attentive to Alyssa for the rest of the evening.

Detecting a thaw in her attitude later Saturday night, I initiated some tentative pre-intimacy but Laura's stomach
was still upset and we had to break off when she ran for the bathroom.

I tried again Sunday night but Laura lay there like a log, completely unresponsive. Instead of continuing, I rolled away from her and lay there seething.

After a while, I got up and went to take another shower, hoping the rushing water would sooth me and let me get some sleep. It was only marginally successful.

********

Monday morning, I left the house before Laura got up. It was a thing I rarely did, mostly because it forced Laura to get Alyssa up, dressed, fed, and off to daycare.

My wife didn't like that. Unless she had everything all
organized, it was a process guaranteeing she would be a half hour, or more, late to work.

I wasn't in a mood to be terribly solicitous of Laura's wants and needs that morning.

Before I left, I went down into the basement, opened a cabinet that seemed to be nothing more than a place for miscellaneous tools, and flicked a switch that turned on a small piece of equipment that would record every land line phone conversation made from my house.

A second switch activated a device that would intercept any cell phone calls made within a radius of 150 feet of the device's location.

It wasn't strictly legal, but no one knew about it and I'd never use the information captured by the equipment in any legal setting.

Surveillance cameras already covered almost every room in the house. After I'd seen a documentary on A&E, or Discovery or something explaining how a murder had been solved with images found on a homeowner's interior spy cams, I had them installed all over my house.

A secondary purpose was to monitor the movements and activities of any babysitters Laura and I brought into the house as well as the housekeeper who came in three times a week.

We trusted the housekeeper and also the teenage girls we hired to watch our baby for a few hours on the nights on those occasions when Laura and I went out together, but "trust but verify" seemed a good policy to me.

We hadn't, I reflected, had to hire a babysitter for too many months.

I wasn't sure I was getting my money's worth from the expensive surveillance system.

********

I pulled inside the tall chain link fence surrounding the new campus and around to the business office on the far side of the complex.

The fence, and the razor wire at the top had gone up when we got our first Department of Defense contract three years ago.

After that, the DoD came back twice for additional small, but decidedly more profitable deals.

I pulled into the wide, clearly marked parking slot and shut the engine off. I sat there, unmoving, while I tried to make a decision.

My guts kept telling me Laura had some outside interest but my brain countered, saying I had no actual proof.

A racing pulse and a quick inhalation weren't enough to be sure. I'd seen a flash of guilt in her eyes but she could be feeling bad about something else only vaguely connected with what I'd asked her.

I hoped so anyway.

The logo on the wall in front of my Navigator was unexpectedly obscured and it brought me out of my stupor.
............

To Be Continued
...........

aprilwise:
Please come and update.

In a bit, Thanks.

teebee22:
This is a great story coming up. let me quietly book for front seat. op am following you bumper to bumper.

Thanks For Your Moral Support

**************
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EPISODE-01

Class was over today. After dinner, I decided to head back to my dorm. I had finished the assigned homework earlier in the day and decided to play Cards Against Humanity with some of my dorm mates. There were six of us; Me, Bonnie, Katy, Joey, Mike, and my boyfriend, Peter.

Peter was judge and his card was; “during sex, I like to think about…” The pressure was on. I was in last place with only one stinking card. I had to win this. I was stuck between two cards “Not giving a shit about poor people” and “Dying.” The other cards I was saving for something better. I see Joey put down a card after ten seconds.

Followed by Bonnie. Then Kate. I really needed to think about this one. I study the two cards and try to figure out which would best represent him. Another card is put down. Shit, I gotta hurry it up. I blindly throw in one of the two cards as my entry.

As Peter was shuffling the entries, I pondered to myself; “what does Peter actually think about sex?” I started created these weird sexual personas for him from him being into BDSM, food sex, or something really out of the norm like a baby fetish.

Okay, that one was totally not sexy. I know when I met him, we had this weird conversation on feet. But what else was he into?

I was a virgin, in college, so I was sexually deprived. For me, it was just fanfiction and
masturbation. This was my third semester, while Peter was two semesters ahead. I also
never had a serious relationship before, aside from this one. We have been together for
about a year now and despite my virginity, we have been really physical. Lots of caresses, kisses, massages, cuddles. But nothing steamy.

Peter begins to read the cards selected. “Finger painting. My sex life. Another shitty new
year. Two midgets shitting in a box. Having sex on top of a pizza. And not giving a shit about the third world.” A lot of those cards, were of course, better than mine. I can see he took out “My Sex Life” and “Having Sex on Top of a Pizza.” He probably thought that
those were too obvious.

Then he finally comes to a conclusion; “Not Giving a Shit about the Third World.”
I slam my hand down on the black card, with competitive enthusiasm. “Finally.” I say.

“This is the last round for me then I’m going to bed.” Katy says.

“Me too.” Joey adds “I have class at 8 in the morning.”

“Alright, one more round.” Peter says, handing the box of cards to Mike.

“What ruined my last relationship?” Mike read.

I quickly placed, “Racism” as my entry.

I snuggle next to Peter and asks, “You tired yet?”

He kisses my head. “No.”

“I have a few movies we could watch.” I suggest quietly, twirling a strand of hair.

Great, that was my line of seduction. I’m such a temptress. However I did have a plan.
Peter places a card down and Mike begins to read the selection of white cards; “Racism,
Teaching a Robot How to Love, Mess, Miley Cyrus at 50, White People, and My First
Period.”

Mike holds up a card and claims the winner, “My First Period.” Peter, the one who was
winning, of course won the card. The group went their separate ways after we had put
all the cards back in the box.

Peter gets off the couch and tells me, “Let me just go to my room real quick. I wanna
change into my night wear.” Perfect.

I begin to change clothes myself, though I decide to be a bit mischievous. I put on a long
night shirt, that pressed gently on my skin. The hem just brushing against my thighs.

Cool air went through the short baggy sleeves. The shirt was from a Muse concert that my father took me to about a year ago. It was too small for him, so he let me have it.

The room was cold, but that only increased my arousal.
I jump on the bed and get the movie selection ready. I feel a twitch in between my legs and I begin to massage it with my index finger.

I was already Hot and we are not even in the same room. Peter comes in my room, without knocking, and I quickly remove my hand from the pleasure spot. Luckily, he doesn’t notice.

Love Almost Lost - By Aurora

* aprilwise

Episode 3
*
Don't Stray Too Far From Those Who Love You, They Always Want You Close

*******

They were gone; they vanished quicker than it takes to tell, but I'd seen them. I heard a sharp hiss as she drew in a quick breath of air.

What wasn't gone was a suddenly racing pulse I could feel through my fingertips. I'd kept her close to me by holding her wrists and the pads of my first two fingers were resting on the primary blood vessels there.

It was as reliable a lie detector as any FBI polygraph. I had my answer.

"Don't be silly," my wife protested. "Honey, I could never love any man but you...you know that!" she said. She leaned into me, cuddling her head on my shoulder to breath softly into my neck and give me little kisses here and there.

I noticed, though, her head didn't rest hard enough on my body to mess up her hairdo. I wondered if Laura felt the cold chill that was rippling up and down my back.

Laura patted me on my upper arms and pulled away, turning to look at the clock beside the bed.

"I'm going to be late," she said, "and I promised the gals I wouldn't be again. I gotta go, but...maybe tomorrow night?" she asked gently.

"Laura, we really need some "us" time," I answered, not trying very hard to disguise my rising annoyance. "Tell the "gals" you'll make it some other time and spend tonight with me and our daughter, how 'bout doing that for us, please?" I suggested.

She pulled away and went to her closet to pull on a short skirt. "I can't disappoint all my friends," she protested. "Why would you want me to do that?" she said crossly.

"Why would you want to disappoint ME and your daughter?" I returned harshly. "Or don't we matter any more to you?" My wife's eyes narrowed as she worked herself into an anger to match mine
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"I Told you tomorrow," she snapped. "Dammit, I'm entitled to some time for myself without you always being there and smothering me to death! I'm not your Goddamned slave, you know."

We argued some more. She told me she was a free and independent member of this marriage, that I couldn't tell her what to do and that she'd damn well do whatever she needed to do to get some relaxation and blow off some steam after a hard day's work.

I said that she had always been given plenty of space. I said the proof of that was that she'd never heard a word of protest from me when she went back to work after the baby.

I said I thought it was great she was working as a mid-level manager in an accounting firm when I actually made enough money for us to get along fabulously without her working at all.

I told her I supported her career, was proud as hell of all that she had accomplished, but I didn't see why her job and nights out with the "girls" overrode the family's needs.

I got a little sarcastic when I mentioned the "girls" I guess. She got madder, asked what I was accusing her of...and then I left.

I was too upset and too hot to keep going down that road. I'd have said something I might have later regretted

so I went downstairs to sit on the couch in the living room. I sat there fuming, with half an urge to physically stop her from going out on me this one night at least.

But I knew, even through my rage, that I couldn't do that. When she came down the stairwell, I was reasonably calm. We looked at each other. She was defiant and I...well, I don't know what I was feeling. It wasn't good, though.

"Laura," I said, "please don't do this." My voice was unintentionally husky and deep. She stopped for a moment at the door as if in indecision, then she opened it.

"Laura," I said a little louder and more firmly. "Honey, I love you. I'm begging you, PLEASE don't do this to me and Alyssa." Laura looked back at me, her face totally devoid of any expression.

Then she stepped through the door and closed it decisively behind her. Alyssa came running down the stairs and into the foyer.

She opened the outside door and watched as the headlights of her mother's Lexus disappeared down the street. Without saying a word, she shut the door and
walked quickly over to the couch.

I knew that walk. It was as if the polished marble of the foyer floor was too hot to walk on and she had to get off it quickly.

She clambered up on the couch near me and stared fixedly at the door for a while as if hoping her mother would miraculously come back in. I stared too. After a moment, Alyssa climbed onto my lap and we hugged for a long time before I carried her into the kitchen to make a couple of sandwiches for us.

To Be Continued...

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aprilwise:
Nice one. More update

Thanks, Next Episode in a bit...

Episode 2
*
Those Who Love You Will See Through Your Lies But Still Believe You
*******
The sun had nearly set when we pulled in the driveway. My wife, Laura, was indeed home. Alyssa ran upstairs,
excited and bursting with things she wanted to tell her mother about all the cousins she'd encountered at my
mom and dad's.

I tailed along behind, still consumed with the dark thoughts that had taken root in my mind on the drive home. Why WAS my wife spending so much of her time in the office or partying with her girlfriends?

I found Laura sitting before her vanity, putting on makeup in her bra and panties. She rose to give me a peck on the cheek in welcome.

Without warning, the idea struck me that I couldn't remember the last time she'd given me a strong, lusty kiss and wrapped her arms around my neck to show me how much she loved me. I sat down on our bed and watched.

Alyssa talked to her for a while, without much of a reply from her mother. It was obvious even to little Alyssa
that Laura wasn't paying any attention and, after a while, our daughter wound down and quietly went down the hall to her own room. Laura continued primping, touching her hair and getting her makeup on exactly right.

"What's going on, Laura?" I asked, trying to keep the unexpected emotion out of my voice. My stomach muscles were abruptly cramping and I could feel the surge of blood up the back of my neck. It was difficult to breath.

"What do you mean, honey?" she replied. She hadn't noticed my sudden agitation and was still giving all her
attention to the mascara brush so near to her right eye.

"We've only been home ten minutes," I said brusquely, "and you're rushing off somewhere already?" She stopped brushing at her eyelashes and looked at me with poorly concealed impatience.

"Honey, you KNOW I always go out with the girls on Friday nights," she said in a tired, we've-gone-over-this-
before, voice. I didn't like her tone and I didn't like the implication that she was doing something we'd agreed
was right and proper.

"Actually, my dear," I said sarcastically, "you go out with "the girls" on Saturday nights, some Sundays, almost every Wednesday, and virtually every Friday after work for happy hour and sometimes they all blend into one long, excruciating night out for you."

Alyssa had quietly disappeared after her mother had shut her out and was in her room with the door shut. I
heard the strains of one of her educational toys starting to play a jingle. Getting up, I closed the bedroom door

and turned back to find Laura also standing and looking at me without any expression on her face. Moving fast, I stepped close to her and caught up both her hands in mine. I hugged them to my chest.

"Laura," I said slowly, striving to keep control of my voice. I didn't want it to break right now.
"Honey, Alyssa asked me this afternoon why you didn't love us anymore...and Laura, I have to ask the same
question, I guess."

Laura's eyes narrowed in that way that told me I'd trespassed into forbidden territory. I ignored the signs and plowed ahead.

"Do you? Do you still love me?" I asked my wife of 6 years. For a moment, she didn't answer. Then she fought off a visible irritation and melted against me.

"Of course, darling," she said softly, "I love you more today than when we got married...and I thought I'd die
sometimes, I was so happy." My stomach was still cramping but I tried to relax. She WAS happy? But not now?

"Then stay home tonight, honey," I said, ignoring my sudden misgivings. I refused to let a begging note come into my voice. Laura sighed patting me and stroking my chest.

"We can put Alyssa to bed early," I said. "We'll dim the lights and bring up that bottle of wine we've been saving and you can put on that black lace camisole I bought you for Valentine's Day, how 'bout that?"

Curiously, her body had seemed to be reacting in favor of my idea...until I mentioned the camisole. When I said that word, her body stiffened and she tried to back away.

I held her by the wrists and wouldn't let her retreat far.
"Laura," I said deliberately, "are you cheating on me?" I watched her closely as I spoke and...there it was. I saw
a quick flicker deep in her eyes and a miniscule tightening at the corner of her eyes.

To Be Continued...

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Episode 3 - Finale
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Well, nothing, if it had been a painting of my face. While not the "actual size", filling up the canvas was my cock, upright and staring back at me in all its glory.

'Ten hut, Sparky! "I think this explains your silly-ass grin," I said, now trying to keep from laughing myself.

"Just what possessed you, anyway?"

"After I caught glimpse of it I, uh, changed my mind.

Girl's right, you know. To be honest, I've thought about it quite a bit lately, especially after that chilly night we were cuddled under that blanket watching
Notting Hill ."

She paused a moment, and stared right through me.

"Steve, how come you've never made a move on me?"

I swallowed another golf ball, trying to believe what I was hearing.

"I just thought, gosh, I don't know, you were out of my league."

"Uh huh."

"Besides, you just kept bitching about how much you don't like Hugh Grant."

"Maybe I didn't care about watching the movie? Ever think of that?"

"Well, no, I just…"

"And how often do you hear me talk about other guys?"

"Never, but I thought it was none…"

"And who do I spend most of my free time with?"

"Well that would be me."

"And why do you think that is?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. I was speechless anyway.

"So, when I saw you a) naked and b) not about to make a move despite BEING naked, I guess it was time to let you know how I felt."

"But why?"

"Are you kidding?" She smiled at me. This time she was the one being sweet.

"Don't sell yourself so short. Yeah, you're a good-looking guy, but you're more attractive the more I know you. You listen to me, you care about me as a person. You don't treat me like some two-dimensional object. You're funny. Need I go on?"

"You blow me away, Lelanni. I think you know how I feel about you."

"Well, why don't you tell me?"

"Lelanni, these last six months have meant the world to me. I mean, we're friends, yeah, but you've always been the most beautiful woman, ummm, person, I've ever known, inside and out."

"I know you hate the word 'sweet', but those were the sweetest words I've heard in some time." As she stepped closer to me, my body shivered in anticipation as her hands clasped around the back of my neck, of feeling the fullness of those lips press against mine.

Our first kiss was soft and lingering, the moment was swollen with emotion: happiness, excitement, and anticipation, not just of what was likely about to happen, but how our friendship was about to change.

"I think I'm being a bit unfair," Lelanni said, her impish smile returning.

"You seem to be wearing far less clothes than I am."

This was a lead I think I'd be able to take.

"Yeah, but it would be even less had you not been so HORRIFIED!"

I quickly disposed of my jeans yet again, and was totally naked as Lelanni pulled off her top. I helped unhook her bra to reveal her br***ts, her ni**les dark, large, and longing to be sucked, which I for so long had wanted to press against me. I finally got my wish, kissing the beautiful Lelanni more deeply, groping her a*s as she unbuckled her short shorts.

She guided me backwards into the reclining chair, suddenly much more comfortable now that I wasn't posing, allowing her shorts to drop to the ground.

Her body melted into mine as we continued to kiss, our
arms wrapped around one another, releasing our pent up passion for one another.

"I want to taste you,"

I told her, taking some semblance of the lead with my new "dance" partner. As I pulled off Lelanni's yellow thong pa*ties, I gazed at her luscious pu**y, now gleaming with excitement as my tongue slowly flecked the inside of her silky thighs.

Her hands on the top of the chair balanced her, as I probed her with my tongue and my kisses, relishing in her delight. I wanted to please her so badly.

"I'm about to come, yes, Steve. Oh, I want you inside me now."

I wanted to make her delirious, continuing to massage her clit with my nose as I continued to tongue-f**k her pu**y. Her ni**les were now rock hard and she let out a soft moan.

I grabbed her by the hips as she grabbed my c**k, guiding into her welcoming pussy. Now face-to-face, I kissed her deeply as we rocked in a perfect rhythm. She buried her face into my shoulder, letting out a small scream and biting my neck.

"I'm sorry!" she said, a bit embarrassed. "I hope I didn't draw blood."

"I hope you did, Miss Vampire! Do you like getting wildly bleeped?"

Our eyes were shut in intense pleasure and emotion as we continued to rock together. My mind wandered briefly to that first salsa song we danced to, or at least tried to.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked me.
I was unaware I was giggling a little. "Am I making a funny 'I'm-being-wildly-screwed' face?"

"No, babe, it's just, we seem to be doing a lot better than we did on the dance floor."

"Don't blame me." Lelanni was laughing, too. "But I agree, this seems to be more your forte."

"Our forte, babe."

We began rocking more rapidly, our bodies tensing in impending orgasm. Funny how making silly cracks made our lovemaking so intense.

WE were so past "gotta get to know each other" so we didn't feel awkward as could be with the "first time". I felt my c*ck twitch, and my body shuddered as I exploded inside Lelanni.

The feel of my semen shooting inside her sent her over the edge, as Lelanni stifled a scream by covering her mouth.

"Go ahead and scream, babe. You've already bitten me, after all. Smitten me, too, while we're at it."

"Why did we wait so long, Steve?", she finally said, breathlessly, her body continuing to quiver. She pounded playfully on my chest.

"I Told you you should have made a move on me earlier."

"I won't miss the opportunity again."

"Promise?"

"You got it. I've never been with a friend before. I've heard best friends make the best lovers. Hey, you wanna dance naked?"

"No, not 'til we send you to Arthur Murray. Sit tight. I still need to paint your face."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Ever been painted by a beautiful naked artist?"

"No, just a beautiful one. But I've a feeling I'm about to be."

What should have taken Lelanni half an hour or so wound up taking the entire night. We took more than the usual number of breaks from the painting.

Her portrait of me was quite flattering, though as good as it was, was far less memorable than the interruptions. I was right when I said friends made the best lovers, and I felt so grateful I'd found this gem of a person to be in my life.

THE END
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PaChukwudi44, baryour769, purity23, sly12345, egwolopretty, Mijolnir, Silver1996, itsandi, marvel15

Love Almost Lost - Episode 1
*
Love is Everything. A broken Family Has No Love

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It took a funeral and a three-year-old child to pull the blindfold off my eyes and make me face what I really knew had been there for a while.

I hadn't wanted to see it; I'd ignored it as long as I could but suddenly I was right up against it. The funeral was for my maternal grandfather, who died of a massive heart attack, and the three year old was my daughter Alyssa.

We were at my mother's house the day after the funeral, making ready to leave and return home. The luggage was all packed and loaded into the rear of the Navigator and I was putting Alyssa in her car seat.

"Would you like your shoes off, honey?" I asked her. I knew the answer but I liked asking, because she would
reply and I loved the sound of her little girl's voice.

"Yes, please," she said solemnly and very distinctly. I smiled at her and began to unbuckle the straps on the tiny Mary Jane shoes. I didn't bother to ask if she would like her socks on or off. The answer was always "off."

That had to have been from my side of the family. I'd rather go barefoot myself than deal with hot, uncomfortable leather.

With her socks off and her toes wriggling in undisguised relief, I tickled the soles of her feet. She knew I would and had been watching me intently, waiting for the moment she could squeal and kick her feet as if she actually wanted to get her away from my tickling fingers. She didn't, though.

She'd have been unhappy if I hadn't done it.
This was a game we often played, and one we'd both come to cherish. It struck me that we'd been playing it a lot lately. My young daughter and I were spending more and more time together.

Both of us seemed to cherish the hours we had in each other's company. It was not so with my wife, Laura, though. Before I could explore that thought, my angelic little daughter interrupted my thoughts.

"Daddy?" Alyssa asked. I was leaning past her and placing her shoes on the bench seat beside her. I stuffed each sock carefully inside the proper shoe and pushed the shoes a little into the cushion so they'd stay there.

"What, punkin'?" I asked gently. When she didn't immediately answer, I turned to look her in the eyes.

"Why doesn't Mommy love us anymore?" she asked simply. I was taken aback. I stared at my child for a
moment, unable to answer.

"Honey...your Mommy loves us both, I'm sure," I said slowly, "and in particular, she loves you more than anything else in the whole, wide world," I assured her.

For a brief instant, there was a sparkle in her eyes, but then it faded.
"But she didn't want to come with us to say goodbye to Gran'pa," she said plaintively.

I had no real answer except the one Laura had given me.
"She had to work, honey," I said. I was going to explain about the biggest account in the accounting firm my
wife worked for and how it needed so much of her time and attention, but that would have raised far too many
questions in a three year old's mind. I was quiet for a long moment.

"Mommy will be there when you get home, baby," I said consolingly. "She'll be there waiting for you."

"Does she have to work at night, too?" Alyssa asked. I started to answer, saying no, her mother went out at
night with "the girls" a lot to unwind. But again, that would have raised more questions than it answered in
Alyssa's mind.

"No, baby girl," I said, "I think Mommy's about done with having to work so hard and then she'll have lots more
time to spend with you...and me," I told her. Suddenly, I had to end this conversation. It was too uncomfortable.

I buckled the last strap on the car seat, kissed my little cherub of a daughter, and patted her arm before closing
the door.

Twenty minutes later, she was peacefully asleep in the rear seat while I drove the big SUV down the Interstate.
My daughter slept, but I could not. I kept replaying her sad words in my mind.

If a three year old was noticing, it wasn't just me anymore. That was what my wife had implied the last time I'd asked why she was going out
with her friends so often.

To Be Continued...

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This Journey We Are About Commencing Will Take A Number Of Weeks To Conclude, it promises to be Exciting, Thrilling, heart breaking, full of love and commitments.

You Will be able to read ahead of my nairaland updates once my android app is released (working on it)

Here We Go!

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Friends Made Lovers
*
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*
Episode 2

"Steve, what the HELL are you doing?" Lelanni's exclamation quickly brought me out of my wandering thoughts. I hadn't even heard the door open, but I did hear her reaction to what she saw.

That and the sound of the easel falling through her hands and onto the carpet.

"Well, not like this isn't embarrassing or anything, Lelanni. I was just getting myself prepared for..."

As I scrambled for more cover, the washcloth dropped to the floor, exposing my, errr, excitement over an
impending gonna-get-painted-while-naked-by-a-beautiful-woman experience.

"…for WHAT?!? You're…god, cover yourself up!" Lelanni was protesting but not exactly looking away.

"I wanted to paint your face for cryin' out loud."

"But I thought you only did nudes. Mighta helped if you'd told me."

"Well, I didn't think you were just gonna strip on me. You gonna at least put your pants on?"

"Yeah, sure." Somewhat humiliated and red-faced, I wriggled back into my pants, now a bit tight thanks to my erection, which, despite my embarrassment belied some of my latent feelings for Lelanni.

Shequickly gathered up her easel and watercolors, and we were soon in business.
I couldn't quite figure out the impish smile that spread across Lelanni's lovely face as she made her brushstrokes.

Nor could I figure out how to make myself comfortable. Posing. Hardon. Embarrassment. Like being back in the waiting room. Where was the year-old Newsweek to
complete the effect?

"Just sit back in the chair and relax," said the grinning Lelanni.

"You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be."

"Don't I need to sit still?"

"No, you're fine."

I felt my body finally start to feel a bit more at ease, except where my boner was angrily protesting the rough fabric on the inside of my jeans.

"Well, let me come take a look then."

Lelanni's face become ashen, no easy trick given her dark complexion.

"No!" she protested, perhaps a bit more emphatically than I might've expected.

"Just sit there, I should be done in a sec." Back came the
impish grin.

"There." she finally said after a moment or two. "Not sure I'm ready for you to see this."

She slithered over to me, touching me slightly like no other touch I'd felt from my friend, as if an electric current had shot out from the tips of her fingers. "Come over," she continued.

I swallowed the golf ball that had mysteriously lodged in my throat. How'd that get there? What's suddenly so dramatic about a painting of my face?

Well, nothing, if it had been a painting of my face. While not the "actual size", filling up the canvas was my cock, upright and staring back at me in all its glory.

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Friends Made Lovers

We can be more than just friends, let's make it happen!
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Episode 1


"You wanna what??"

"You heard me, I want to paint you."

"I think you got it backwards, babe. You see, I'm the 'not bad looking at best' one while you've got the supermodel looks. You'd be on the wrong side of the canvas."

"You're sweet, but I don't think so, something tells me you paint about as well as you dance."

"That was a low blow."

"So are you game, then?"

"Won't we just be reenacting some goofy Titanic scene?"

"We're not going to hit an iceberg, and besides, you don't look anything like Kate Winslett. But, if you don't want to do it…"

"OK, OK." That whole "if you don't want to" thing always works on me!

"Where do I pose?"

"Hold on. Need to go get my stuff. Just wait here."

Who knew? One minute I'm dropping off a DVD to my buddy Lelanni's house and the next minute I'm a subject for her art class. Hmm, thought she'd want a good grade.

Lelanni. You know, she has a last name, but most people can't ever remember it. Her name's taken on a kind of Madonna/Bono/Prince/ Brazilian soccer player quality.

I mean, how many Lelanni's do you know, anyway? Lelanni's pretty popular here on campus, and not just because of her name. She's drop dead gorgeous, you see, and the funny thing, I don't think she really knows it. I was always convinced every woman on the planet knew how pretty (or not) they were, but it's always
seemed to me that Lelanni was flat oblivious to how lovely she really was.

Where do I start? Was it the look in her dark, mysterious eyes? Maybe it was the fullness in her thick jet black hair that begged for my fingers to run through (Then again, maybe it was my fingers doing the begging!) Or maybe, it was her silky, dark skin that I longed to press against mine!

When I first saw Lelanni at a wedding six months ago it
was all those qualities, at first. Took me an hour to work up the nerve to speak with her, but when I finally did, I realized how approachable she was.

"Hi, I'm Steve." You see, it took me that full hour to come up with that!

"Well, hello there, I'm Lelanni."

She returned my greeting with a warm, enthusiastic smile, no doubt caught up in the gaitey of the festivities and NOT from anything clever I had just said.
OK, where to go from here?

"I noticed you out there dancing before, and I just wanted to say how beautiful I thought you were."

Direct approach never hurts, I'd supposed.

"Why, thank you, you're very sweet."

Hmmm, "sweet" wasn't what I was really looking for, you know, with "sweet" being the harbinger to "you're just like a brother to me", but at least she's not blowing me off.

"I don't know you. And I know just about everybody here."

"Well, I was in the same…"

"OH. MY. GOD. Let me guess. You read about the wedding in the paper, right?"

"No, I…"

"You're totally crashing this wedding, aren't you?"

"No, no!, let me…"

"Let me see your invitation!"

Dumbstuck, I reached into my coat pocket, like a total geek I actually did have my invitation with me.

"Put it away, god, I'm just messin' with you. Had you going now, didn't I?" Had me going she did, but I found myself unable to stop looking at her eyes as they twinkled with delight. I felt a goofy grin spread across my face, you know, the kind you get when you instantly hit if off with someone.

"Oh, I totally love this song, dance with me, please!"
she said to me.

Dance with me. The three most dreaded words six-foot five inch white guys hate to hear. Even when they come out of the mouth of a gorgeous female. My eyes turned to Lelanni's hips as they began to sway to the sassy salsa music.

I didn't know the song but Lelanni was already singing to it. The flutter in my stomach and hot rush down to my ankles suggested something between giddy excitement and sheer terror as I felt Lelanni take me by the hand and lead me to the dance floor.

"I don't really know how to dance. Like at ALL!"

"Don't worry. Just follow my lead, you'll be fine. Relax."

Relax. Oh, OK. No prob. I tried to remind myself not to bite my lower lip. Every ounce of Lelanni's body fell into the rhythm of the music as her hips, her arms, her dark
hair all absorbed the Latin beat.

I, on the other hand, had to make the conscious decision to begin dancing, not sure quite what to do first. I felt the cold beads of sweat start to run down my back anticipating the humiliation.

At least I was out there with the hottest girl in the room.
"Like this," she said, trying to encourage me. Lelanni's body was made to move to this music. Mine wasn't. It was easier said than done to get my body to move "like this". While I tried to be a good pupil and a good sport, Lelanni saw I had all the dance prowess of Young Frankenstein moving to Puttin' on the Ritz. My foot crashing down on hers once ( OK, twice) didn't help matters, either.

But it seemed it was just the dancing me she was giving up on. "Let's go get a drink, I'm pretty parched," she said, mercifully ending my brief stay on the dance floor.

While I'm sure Lelanni did know most of the people at the wedding (turns out the bride was a relative of hers), we wound up talking through most of the reception.

Thoughts of "scoring" with her went out of my mind rather quickly, you know, no goofy lines like
"I'm a much better horizontal dancer than a vertical one!" Even though it was true!

Not that I'm that great a lover, just a totally crap dancer! We seemed to forge a quick friendship after the wedding, me and Lelanni, which was great since we went to the same school.

How I'd missed her on campus before was beyond me. We'd spend a great deal of time together. Liked a lot of the same movies, and music, too. But while she was the fine arts major, I continued struggling through proofs and theorems in the math department.

My time with Lelanni was a nice diversion. Found myself learning the fine points of painting—the stuff Lelanni did was just beautiful—I'd never appreciated what went into it before.

Heck, I thought people painted naked people just for the thrill. And while dancing was her other passion, I never did get another dance lesson. She knew I was hopeless!
So, what to do with myself as Lelanni goes to get her painting "stuff"?

Well, I guess I'd better UnCloth, god this is embarrassing. Once naked, I found a small white washcloth that had been lying around. Don't know why it was there and wasn't about to ask. I was grateful for the "Me, Tarzan" look my makeshift loincloth was creating.

Though I wasn't quite sure where to sit, or even HOW to sit, this was about as comfortable as the time between when the nurse tells you to disrobe and you're sitting on the cold examining table with nothing but a paper gown, and the time the doctor comes in to do whatever it is he
needs to do. After all, how's a guy supposed to look nonchalant when he's naked, sitting in a chair, with nothing but a washcloth-turned-loincloth to conceal his emerging hardon; needless to say, there was something erotic about a beautiful girl wanting to paint you naked.

"Steve, what the HELL are you doing?" Lelanni's exclamation quickly brought me out of my wandering thoughts.7

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