A loving wife comes up with a practical solution

At twenty five I, Jubal Prentice, started my second job after college working in digital marketing. I had a combined BSc and BA degree in business and computer science from a five year program at the university I attended and this job seemed perfect for me, much better than the first job I got out of college. I had been a competitive fencer in college but always put my studies first, so I never won any individual championships although my team once finished third in the NCAA national fencing competition.

My new job was at Winsome Scientific, Inc., a medium sized corporation that not only manufactured and sold a number of pieces of equipment for the scientific community but also marketed laboratory equipment for a number of foreign corporations in the United States. Winsome had its own six-story building in a suburban office park of a large city and occupied the top five floors. The first floor had retail shops including a large fitness facility that was a franchise of a national corporation. A large warehouse was in an adjacent complex less than a kilometer away.

My department had ten employees when I started, and was on the same floor as a much larger department of Winsome, the sales department. One thing that I liked about Winsome is that everyone seemed to get along — the only exception (at least from the scuttlebutt of the male employees on our floor) of the department head of sales (she was also a vice president) Melanie Brooks.

I had few interactions with Melanie since she was in a different department and much higher up on the corporate ladder than I was, but I was introduced to her my first day at work and said “Hi” to her whenever I saw her, and exchanged innocuous chit-chat if we, for example, rode up the elevator together to the sixth floor where our offices were.

After working a few months at Winsome I came to the conclusion that the male employees were often critical of Melanie and called her The Ice Queen because she was no nonsense in making everyone do their job, and because she wasn’t even the slight bit flirtatious. I think that this was particularly bothersome to a number of male employees because Melanie was likely the hottest woman I had ever seen. In the case of the female employees who had critical things to say about her I think that it was jealousy.

Melanie is five feet eleven inches tall (180 cm) with shoulder length lustrous brunette hair with auburn highlights, a large chest, a beautiful even if normally stoic face, a slim waist, sculptured legs long even for a tall woman, and a tight bubble butt to die for. Although there was no completely reliable information about her age, given when she got her undergraduate and MBA degrees I surmised that she is probably twelve years older than I am — making her 37 when I started at Winsome very young for someone in her position of authority. It was clear to everyone, however, even her detractors, that she got her position because she is highly intelligent — maybe the smartest person I personally met.

Despite how tall she is Melanie seems to always wear three inch heels to the office, making her only an inch shorter than my six foot three inch height.

I had a first real interaction with Melanie when I had been at Winsome about six months when we had a holiday party for all employees on the sixth floor at a local country club, spouses and significant others invited. At the time I was dating Amy, a good-looking woman my age but who I later dumped because she basically had a nasty personality and because of her good looks thought that her shit didn’t stink.

At the party Melanie seemed to seek me out to engage in conversation. It turns out that she was in a fencing club as a teenager and actually fenced for one year in college and had lots to talk to me about regarding fencing competition in college. I was a little surprised that she even knew that I was a fencer. We must have talked one-on-one for thirty minutes, not just about fencing but other things like art and movies, before she had to make some announcements and hand out holiday presents and bonuses to the sales staff.

After the announcements and gift giving for both Melanie’s department and mine Melanie introduced me to her husband Jack, who it was clear she was deeply in love with. I immediately recognized him from the large photo of him and their two young daughters that hung on the back wall of Melanie’s office and which I was told was updated every New Year.

It turned out that the holiday party was my last date with Amy. Afterwards she complained bitterly that I spent too much time talking to “that old slut” (no hetero male would ever call Melanie “old”) and otherwise exposed her nasty personality; so I dumped her. I was glad that I found out about her true colors then before investing any more time or energy in the relationship.


My next interaction with Melanie came only a few weeks after the holiday party. I had just had a phone conversation with one of the salesmen with him on speaker, and apparently he hadn’t properly disconnected the call. Before I hung up I heard his door open and other voices so I stayed on the line. I then overheard three male employees of the sales department talking about doing some shady things with their sales reports, and possibly finding out a way to manipulate the sales department computer system to introduce false information that would make them look good. I understood the computer stuff — it wouldn’t work the way they were going to try their scheme unless they got a black hat hacker involved — although I didn’t understand the sales talk. I quietly hung up the phone after I had heard enough.

I only thought about it overnight before I knew what I had to do. I was waiting at Melanie’s office when she got in (she was always early) the next morning. She had asked at the party for me to call her “Melanie” instead of “Mrs. Brooks” so I inquired “Melanie, could I talk to you about something business related?”

“Sure Jubal,” she replied, somewhat surprised because we didn’t really have any business interactions.

We went into her office, I closed the door, and handed her a memo that I had drafted the previous night on my home computer which provided all of the information I had overheard, and also my analysis of the computer aspects of the salesmen’s plot. “I think that this memo is self-explanatory, but if you have any questions I’m happy to answer them,” I said as I sat in a chair across from her desk.

I really wish that her desk had a privacy panel in front of it because I had a really good view up her skirt from my position — I tried not to look because I could feel myself starting to sweat and getting hard.

It was clear than Melanie read the memo twice before she looked up at me. “Thank you very much, Jubal. This is self-explanatory and provides as much detail as I could expect. I will be taking action on this after a further investigation — you’ve really helped me, and Winsome, out.”

“Glad to help,” I replied, standing up and hoping that I hadn’t tented my pants as a result of the view up her skirt.

“One thing, though, Jubal; I ask that you keep this confidential — tell no one not even your boss — and I won’t be able to report to you what ultimately happens.”

“No problem — after handing you the memo I will not even think about this again, let alone talk with anyone about it, and tonight I’ll scrub it from my home computer,” I responded with a smile.

Melanie insisted on shaking my hand. I wish she hadn’t. An electric charge passed through my body from the contact. I hope that she didn’t notice my slight shudder.

Melanie didn’t have to tell me what happened. Ten days later the three salesmen who I had overheard were clearing out their desks while security watched over them.


I guess that Melanie and my paths were destined to intersect because I had another interaction with her only about three weeks after the three salesmen were fired.

I was going to dinner at a nearby restaurant on a Friday night after working late when as I approached the establishment I saw a large obviously drunk guy holding Melanie’s arm. I heard her say “Let go of me you bastard,” and heard him slur “Just a little sugar, baby!”

Most people don’t realize that fencing is very similar to martial arts — it requires the same type of quickness, posture, balance, and technique that many martial arts do. I approached the guy from the side and hit him with my left elbow as hard as I could in the area of his right rotator cuff. He immediately released Melanie’s arm and called out in pain. I then — careful to protect myself and be ready in case he swung at me with his left — got in his face. I whispered “Leave now or tomorrow morning you’ll wake up to find your face a pile of goo.”

He looked at the intensity in my eyes while still whimpering because of the excruciating pain in his shoulder, mumbled a few swear words, and then slinked off.

I turned to see Melanie staring at me. “Are you OK?” I asked.

“Yes; thanks, Jubal; what are you doing here?”

“I came to sit at the bar and have dinner.”

“Are you meeting Amy?”

“No,” I chuckled, “I dumped her the day after the holiday party. Are you meeting Jack?”

“No, he and my girls are at his parent’s house tonight since I had to work late and I was just going to get a bite to eat. Can I treat you to dinner to reward you for your chivalry?”

“No need,” I chuckled, “but we can eat Dutch together.”

Once I was able to refrain from staring at Melanie’s chest in the more-revealing than I would have liked blouse that she was wearing, we had a very pleasant dinner conversation. Actually it was about the most pleasant dinner conversation I had ever had where I wasn’t anticipating banging my date afterward.

After dinner I walked Melanie to her car in our building’s parking lot, she squeezed my hands and said “Thank you, not just for helping me out with that drunk, but also for a very enjoyable evening.”

“My pleasure,” I responded, squeezing her hands back.

I made the mistake of staring at her ass in her tight skirt as she turned and walked to her car’s driver’s side door, and then her ass and legs as she slinked into the driver’s seat. I chastised myself as I hurried away and pushed my dick to one side as it tried to pop my zipper.


After the restaurant incident Melanie asked me over to her house when she was having guests over for dinner, bbq’s, or parties. I got to know Jack well and got attached to her little girls who were bright, precocious, and as beautiful as their mother. If I had a date I’d bring her, if not I felt comfortable going alone. Unfortunately, I never seemed to establish a long-term relationship. My male friends were convinced that my standards were too high; they might have been right, but I was never able to pinpoint the exact cause.

In my interaction with Melanie’s family I found her to not only be very intelligent (and gorgeous) but also outside of the office when she didn’t have to put on her Ice Queen persona, she was warm, friendly, humorous, and empathetic, and a great wife and mother. I often went with the family to the girls’ soccer games, ballet recitals, and gymnastic competitions (they were very successful in their endeavors but would eventually have to get into activities — like basketball, volleyball, and swimming — more suitable for their body types since they were going to be tall); I enjoyed them.

I got to know Jack well too, and liked him. In fact on several occasions I went with him and a couple of other guys, one a friend of mine, one a friend of his, to local college football and basketball games.

Jack was a great guy but I became concerned about him when I noticed that he sometimes had physical problems, primarily breathing problems. Once I caught him when he was collapsing as we were exiting a football stadium. Later that day, after we dropped our friends off, he told me, in confidence, that he had cystic fibrosis. I wasn’t real familiar with it but looked it up that night and found that it was a serious disease with no cure and that it manifested itself in frequent respiratory infections, breathing problems, and chronic lung disease, and made the person more susceptible to other diseases and conditions.

It was about a month after Jack told me about his CF, and close to two years after Melanie had started inviting me to events at her house or with her family (I was now twenty seven) when one Thursday at work Melanie asked me to come over to her house the coming Saturday about 1:30 in the afternoon to help her with her home computer system. I agreed, thinking that at least one of the girls and probably Jack would be there.

It was fortunate that I was wearing sunglasses and loose fitting shorts when I arrived at her house because she was in front doing a little yard work in Daisy Duke shorts and a halter top, which was doing a piss-poor job of restraining her massive ta-tas. I kept my sunglasses on as I approached her. She gave me a tighter hug then normal; I had taught myself over the last eighteen months how to control my cock because she hugged me during every greeting at her house, but this was too much given it’s already three-quarters hard state just from seeing her in her sexy outfit. She had to have felt my boner.

After our greeting outside we walked up the stairs to her front door, her big firm ass sashaying as she led me. Once inside she said “There’s something I need to talk to you about before you look at my computer — would you like a glass of red wine?”

I don’t usually drink wine, but she had an open bottle on the coffee table in her luxurious living room and a couple of glasses out so I said “Sure.”

As we sipped some wine — sitting next to each other on one of her couches — we engaged in small talk for a while. I asked where Jack and the girls were and found out that they were at a gymnastics tournament fifty miles away and not to return until about six p. m. Then she got pensive.

“Jubal, from your interactions with my family what’s your impression of my relationship with Jack?”

I was surprised by the question, but had gotten comfortable talking about many things with Melanie — including my relationships, or much more often my lack thereof, with women my age– so I honestly answered. “It seems that you two are really in love and respect and care for each other as much as any couple I’ve ever seen.”

“So true,” she smiled, “we’re the love of each other’s lives.” Then she continued “What about our relationships with our daughters?”

I laughed. “They’re as challenging as any kids I know — but you and Jack are great parents and are really bringing them up right, and with consistent rules and lots of love; I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you for that; it means a lot,” Melanie replied before gulping down the rest of her wine and getting pensive. After a few seconds of staring into space she continued. “I know that Jack told you a while back about his CF. Do you know what effect that has on me?”

“Uh…well…uh…I’m…uh…sure it’s…difficult,” I stammered.

“I know you really well Jubal, and I respect you so I’ll be blunt. It has prevented Jack and I from having sex for more than fourteen months — not that I’m counting,” she replied with a tone that was between desperate and a snicker.

“TMI” I thought to myself, but didn’t say anything, but also nervously drained my wine glass.

“Can you imagine how hard that is on me, since I have a high libido and up until about two years ago when his breathing complications got really bad we used to fuck five or six times a week; and I get hit on all of the time?” she continued.

This time the TMI was causing me to start to copiously sweat; I think that I nodded my head “yes.”

“Now I have another question. Do you appreciate my body all of the time as much as the times around me that you tent your pants would indicate?” she asked staring at me with her penetrating emerald green eyes which suddenly seemed to be shooting out laser beams.

Now sweat from my forehead was distracting me by running into my eyes so that I didn’t notice that I had the biggest pants tent possible. I think that now I was gulping air like a trout out of the water, and my head was spinning. I noticed Melanie’s laser vision now focused on my crotch. She stood up, shed her halter top revealing her massive east-west firm naked tits, and while I was staring at them she dropped her Daisy Dukes, exposing a lack of undergarments, a sparse bush, and a prominent clit.

When she then came and sat on my lap all logic, reason, and restraint left me at the speed of light. After we passionately smashed out lips together for a few minutes while I simultaneously mauled her nipples on her prodigious tits I stood up, set her down on the couch, threw my sunglasses to the side, yanked my shirt off and my shorts and boxers down, and then laid her prone on her back on the couch.

I went after her pussy with the intensity of a man deprived of nourishment for a month. While my mouth, tongue, and one hand were abusing her pussy and clitoris the other hand was molesting one of her boobs. She came quickly with a scream that might have shattered glass if she hadn’t muffled it with one of her arms, and shortly after that came again, this time pushing my face into her crotch as she moaned “Holy fuck, yes…yes…yes!”

By that time my cock hurt so bad and was so distended that I thought that it might burst, so I unceremoniously shoved it into her pussy in one stroke. She was so tight that without the previous oral orgasms that she had had, and the resulting liquid generation at her crotch, it might have hurt both of us. Instead we both groaned like a couple of Sumo wrestlers engaging each other.

It was no more than a dozen strokes — I couldn’t help myself — before I shot wad after wad of cum at high speed into her willing pussy causing us both to spasm, yelp, shiver and squirm. After my last discharge I lay panting and covered in sweat. How I could have expended so much energy in such a short period of time, I don’t know, but I felt like I had just had a dozen fencing matches in a row (only the feeling was infinitely more pleasurable). I was careful to support myself on my elbows, however, so as not to hurt Melanie as my cock very slowly deflated, not popping out until after a good ten minutes, and a half dozen acute aftershocks.

When her pussy was ultimately empty of a phallus she kissed me on the lips and mumbled “Let’s go to the guest room.”

I had so much testosterone and dopamine flowing through my system that I picked her 145 pound (72 kg) goddess body up like she weighed nothing and carried her up the stairs of her house as she clung on with her arms around my neck and planted a series of kisses on my neck and cheek. When I plopped her down on the mattress of the queen sized bed in her guest bedroom — a place that I had stayed several times, even once with a date — I again went after her pussy with my mouth and digits. I don’t remember ever eating a pussy I had just fucked before, but it looked so delicious that I couldn’t help myself. She spun me around so that my cock and testicles were above her face and she devoured first one ball, then the other, then both at once, while stroking my cock.

It wasn’t long before we were ready for round two, this time in the doggy position. This position was beyond erotic since as I pummeled her she not only let out a series of loud sweet groans, but her hefty tits slapped together making a sound like an ass being paddled, which inspired me to insert two fingers deep into her asshole as I came with the largest second ejaculation of my life. My ejaculation turned Melanie into a whimpering inert blob of protoplasm.

When I finally extricated my cock from her magnificent tunnel I was overcome with a feeling of euphoria the likes of which I had never experienced before. I slumped onto the mattress and pulled her toward me into a spoon position, massaging a tit with one hand, unless it strayed to stroke her butt cheek, thigh, or slit. I know that we fell asleep for a short period of time.

I woke up when Melanie turned in my arms, put her face next to mine, and gave me a series of quick kisses on the lips. We hadn’t really spoken since I first put my lips on her clit in her living room, and saw no need to now. Our desire was complementary and mutual. She shinned down my body and with alacrity sucked my cock until it hardened to her specifications, and then she mounted me, slowly impaled herself, and started riding me, all the while staring into my soul with her green laser eyes while I manipulated her nipples. Impossibly my third orgasm was just as mind-blowing as the first two, and Melanie once again devolved into an inert form.

We regained complete cognizance about 4:00 p. m. Melanie smiled at me and said “Thanks, I needed that.”

I chuckled, “I get the best sex of my life by a factor of four and I get thanked besides? Am I dreaming, or in a bizarro world?”

“Oh, it’s plenty real, and it was at least as fabulous for me as it was for you,” she giggled. I had never heard sophisticated Melanie giggle before.

“Let’s shower and then we need to talk,” she grinned.

The shower was the most pleasurable of my life even though we both were too sore and/or wiped to fuck. We definitely were spanking clean when we exited, especially our intimate parts.

Melanie dressed in jeans and a modest blouse while I put my clothes that were scattered over the living room back on, thankful that only my boxers were slightly torn from me ripping them off.

Melanie sat on the couch that was the scene of the first crime holding one of my hands and sipping some more wine.

“I have a confession, Jubal?”

“What’s that, Melanie?”

“Since almost the time I first met you I’ve been grooming you for today. I wanted you to see that I intensely loved my husband and family before I came onto you, and hoped that would allow you to accept a very practical relationship with me without guilt or unrealistic expectations.”

“Hmmm; what practical relationship is that?”

“I know that you have high standards for the women you date and don’t get laid as much as a red-blooded male like yourself would like. Now you know that I love and am devoted to my family but I need sex as much as, or even more than, you do. What I propose is a thrice weekly secret sexual encounter that is highly beneficial to both of us.”

“A practical solution?” I smiled.

“Eminently practical,” she smiled back.

“How would it work?” I asked.

“Something that very few people know is that I own the fitness facility on the first floor of our office building.”

I knew that she was a frequent visitor there — because I was too — but I had no clue that she owned it. It made sense, however, since she had to do something with her money and working out was something that she understood and enjoyed.

I smiled and asked…”And…?”

“And,” she grinned, “there is a massage room right next to the office reserved for me with a connecting door, and accessible so that no one can see who goes in and out. Also, it’s soundproof — which after our experience today I know will be important. I suggest that we meet there three times a week during the work week at mutually convenient times.”

“What about weekends?”

“I still hope that you will come over most of the time and go to events with our family, and engage with us just like you have for the last two years.”

You know how sometimes you have been thinking about an issue a long time without success, and then suddenly something happens to make everything clear. That’s what happened to me that instant. I suddenly realized that my lack of a consistent romantic relationship was because I was comparing all of my dates to Melanie and they came up short. Immediately after that I realized that I had already been just short of falling in love with Melanie and after the sexual experience of my life today I was in love. Since she was in love with Jack I wouldn’t tell her — but would sure enjoy the feeling.

After a pregnant pause where she looked at me expectantly I said “Sounds like a plan — and a very practical solution to both of our problems.”

We passionately kissed goodbye — there was no computer problem, the problem was with her “equipment” — inside, and as I walked out the door she said “The girls have soccer games at 9 and 10:30 tomorrow morning and then we’re going to brunch. Please come along.

“Sure will,” I grinned, not only because it would give me a chance to surreptitiously ogle Melanie, but also because I really liked her girls, and they seemed to like me.


Normally man plans and the Gods laugh, and things go to hell. Surprisingly that did not happen here. Between working late, getting into the office early, and nooners, Melanie and I enjoyed an extremely mutually rewarding sex life at her fitness facility in our office building over the next fifteen months. It was only when one of us was out of town for more than a few days that we didn’t fuck and suck three times during the workweek. I say “fuck and suck” because I didn’t want to presume that for Melanie it was the same as it was for me. For me, 90% of the time it was making love, not fucking. True to my word to myself I never told her that I loved her; but she probably knew because I almost never brought a date when I went to her house, or the kids’ activities, virtually every weekend.

One Friday early morning, after Melanie and I had maybe the most intense mutual orgasm that we ever had had and I was filled with joy and love, but she had a tear in her eye. “There’s something I need to tell you Jubal,” she said in a serious tone but not looking me in the eye.

I gently lifted her chin so that I was staring into her emerald green irises. “What, Melanie?”

“Jack got back from the doctor yesterday; because his lungs are failing badly he was susceptible to cancer and he has only a couple of months to live.”

“I’m so sorry, Melanie,” I said — and meant it because I knew that he was the love of her life and I really liked him too. “What does that mean for you?”

“Today I’m going to tell management that I’m taking an extended partial leave of absence; I have to be with him in his final days. However, now I’m going to need you more than ever.”

“I’ll do anything to help,” I told her.

“I hope that on weekends you can take Jack in a wheelchair to the girls’ events, and stay over Saturday and Sunday nights. I’m going to get a day nurse three days a week, hopefully meet you here in the early morning, and then work a half day before I relieve the nurse. Is that OK with you?”

I guess she was just being polite in asking because by then she had to know that I’d walk over hot coals for her. “Yes, Melanie — I’ll do anything that you want.

About two weeks after Melanie’s talk with me as I was sitting next to Jack, while he was in his wheelchair, at one of the girl’s soccer games, he gripped my wrist and said “Jubal; can you do something for me?”

“Sure Jack!”

“I know, and you know, that I don’t have long left. The girls will need a male influence in their life. Will you continue to attend their functions and help them out until Melanie re-marries, which I hope that she will?” he asked with a tear in his eye.

I got a tear too, gripped his wrist, and said “I promise — a blood oath that I will.” For one of several times I felt a pang of guilt. It was clear that he didn’t know that I was having sex with his wife; I had hoped that she would find a way to tell him, but she knew him better than I did and would know what was best.

He thanked me profusely, and they we turned and cheered.

Things worked out as Melanie related until a week before Jack died. That week I didn’t see her or the girls at all — family members came in from out of town for the last days. I was a pall bearer at Jack’s funeral and handled most of the logistics for the reception afterwards because Melanie was in a bad place. She did lean on me at the reception and thanked me profusely for all the help I had given her and the girls.

The week after the funeral I had little contact with Melanie and the girls, but then Melanie made every effort to return things to normal, including going back to work full time. However, during our love making sessions I noticed a change in Melanie. It was hard to put into words, but it seemed — ludicrous since our sexual activities had always been phenomenal — like she was even more anxious to please me, and more dependent on me for emotional support.

I didn’t mind at all — in fact I hoped that it meant that she was falling in love with me.

Things went on that way for about two more months when something strange happened. On a Saturday I was taking nine year old Jennifer home from her ballet recital that I had just attended while Melanie was at eight year old Susan’s gymnastics meet. Jennifer was really excited because the performance had gone well, and we stopped for ice cream on the way home.

As we were sitting in my car finishing our sundaes Jennifer turned to me and asked “Do you love my mommy?”

I was taken aback. Since I hoped to have a relationship with her in the future I was not going to lie to her — but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to admit it either.

“Why do you ask that, Jen?” I coped out.

“Because I think that Mommy loves you and wants you to come live with us, but she’s scared to ask. Do you love her?”

That completely bowled me over, causing me to freeze my spoon with a scoop of ice cream on it between my cup and mouth. When I recovered and stared into Jennifer’s green eyes, which were identical to her mother’s, I said “Yes, Jen, I do.”

“Did you ever tell her that?”

“I don’t think that I have.”

“Then why don’t you, so maybe she’ll ask you to come live with us.”

“Do you want me to come live with you?”

“Of course, silly; Susie and I both really like you a lot, and we’re sad with Daddy gone, but when you’re around we miss him less.”

Then, like a typical kid, she completely changed the subject and started talking about something that happened at school and I zoned out, although I nodded my head, said supportive things from time to time, and wondered about the future.


The night after my talk with Jennifer I saw no reason to let things fester. My normal M. O. was to go home from Melanie’s house after dinner on Saturday and Sunday nights. That night I maneuvered to stay by asking the girls if they wanted me to read them a story at bedtime. Even though they were close to too old for that, once I suggest it they both were enthusiastic and Melanie would have had a mutiny on her hands if she tried to stop it. She just looked at me then snickered.

After I read the story to both at the same time, I tucked them in separately. I asked each of them “Would you mind if I moved in with you guys?” With big smiles on their faces they each shrieked “I want you to move in with us!”

After I kissed each of them on the forehead I went to see Melanie who was cleaning up in the kitchen. “Are you trying to get them to fall in love with you?” she cackled; “I think that they already are.”

I went over to her, lifted her into my arms and carried her into the living room despite her mild protests.

I sat her down on the couch, held her hands, and said “I’m in love with you — and Jen and Susie — and I want to marry you.”

She looked a little shocked but quickly recovered. “I’m twelve years older than you are and you’ll want kids of your own and I’ll be forty next month.”

“I think that both Jen and Susie would like a little brother or sister, and your body is like that of a twenty five year old’s,” I snickered.

“What makes you think that I love you?” she challenged.

“Jen as much as told me so when we were eating ice cream after he ballet recital,” I challenged right back.

A staring contest then ensued. After what seemed like five minutes of glaring at each other Melanie got up, and started walking to the interior stairs. When she got there she turned toward me and asked “Aren’t you coming?”

She mumbled “Stop it you pervert” several times as she swatted my hand as I pinched her butt while she was walking up the stairs. When we got to her room, however — I noticed that she had replaced the entire bedroom set and mattress since Jack’s death — no words were spoken as we fell into each other’s arms and had the most rewarding loving session in history, telling each other time and again how much we loved them.

The next morning I was awakened by a shriek followed by eight year old Susie jumping on top of me. “Jubal, you’re here, you’re here. Are you moving in with us?”

Groggy Melanie retorted “Not unless you leave us alone; we’ll come downstairs shortly. Get your sister and make yourselves bowls of Cheerios.”

Susie bounced out of bed and we heard another couple of shrieks when Susie told Jen the news, and then more noise as the girls hustled downstairs.

Melanie turned toward me, kissed me, and then smiled. “You outdid yourself last night, big boy.”

“That’s the most love I’ve ever felt in my life,” I replied. “However, shat are other people going to think if I move in so soon after Jack died?” I asked.

“That we love each other, and that the girls need a male influence,” Melanie smiled. Then she gave me a quick kiss and said “Let’s brush our teeth and shower and then get down to see what the little gremlins are up to.”


I think that Susie and Jen were more excited than Melanie and me when we got married six months later and they were co-maids of honor. They were also really excited to go on our week-long honeymoon with us to Aruba when it was winter back home even though to placate their principal they had to bring some school work along.

Once Melanie stopped getting her birth control shots, since we were rutting like a couple of bonobos, including in the middle of many nights, she got pregnant quickly. Today my heart is filled with joy as I escort Melanie and my little boy Jack home from the hospital to his excited sisters. As we have a family hug I think to myself “How can I possibly be this happy!”

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