Nine Inches Beats 20 Years

Adele could put ice in a glass of whiskey with the best of them, kept the bar rail lively and could handle a loudmouth drunk with ease. She also knew that everyone had a story, and she felt it was her job to hear them all. I had been in the place about three or four times, usually sitting at a table by myself in the back, when Adele figured it was my turn to tell her my story. She had one of her servers tell me that I was requested at the bar, and when I started to pass on the invitation, the waitress said that it wasn't a request, it was a command, and if I knew what was good for me I'd go sit at the far end of the bar, in "Adele's office."

So I grabbed my Crown Royal Black and like a good sheep I headed over to where I was told to go. Adele sauntered over a couple of minutes later, introduced herself although it wasn't necessary, and asked for my name. Then she pointed at the ring indent on my left hand and asked how long I'd been divorced, and how many years was I married.

I was impressed at her immediate perception, and within minutes I was telling her about the end of my marriage and life since. And I was doing it for $10 a shot, instead of $100 an hour.

Adele was about my age, with the shoulders of a former swimmer and the arms of a female weightlifter. She had two-tone brown and blonde hair that she normally wore down on her shoulders, and she wore - and needed - very little makeup. Kind of a tomboyish, big sister character in a package that was about 5-7, 120 pounds. She also didn't mince words nor beat around the bush, and she told me my lone wolf act in the back of the bar had loser written all over it.

So I moved my act up to the front of the bar when I was there, and I started to join in on the bantering. Maybe it was a coincidence, but my spirits were definitely lifted, and suddenly my life became much more than just work, as it had been for most of the past year. I even went out on a few dates. No sex, just dating, sort of like in high school.

I was just getting back from one of those dates on a Saturday night at about 10 when my world was plunged back into despair. As I was pulling up to my house from down the street, I spotted a piece of crap Chevy parked right in the middle of my two-car driveway, so I pulled to a stop along the curb, fuming that some asswipe was in my drive. I practically jumped out of my car and was headed for the piece of crap when Traci got out of the driver's side, gave her head a little tilt and hit me with the kind of smile that would have melted my heart until last year. Damn!

"Hi, Bob!" she said cheerfully.

I was anything but cheerful over this development. I had hoped I would never see the bitch again.

She looked pretty good, I noted to myself, in her tight jeans and tighter sweater, but even at a quick glance I could see that she had lost some weight, some of her taut gym body, and had gained a few wrinkles. Maybe life in California with Larry wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. If the car was any indication, it certainly wasn't.

I slowed my pace toward her once I realized she wasn't some dumbass who just happened to park in my driveway. But I stopped about five feet shy of her. There was no way I was going to give her any kind of a kiss, not even a peck on the cheek, or a hug. I'm not that civilized - or forgiving.

"Not even a hug for our 20 years?" Traci asked, raising her arms toward me.

I just looked at her like she was a bag of moonrocks, keeping my distance while trying to figure out what she wanted.

"I'm not going to bite you, Bob. I just wanted to talk and see how you are doing. I was more than a little rude leaving as I did last year.

"Can we go inside, or should we just stand out here on the driveway so the neighbors can talk? Apparently you changed the locks from last year."

I let her in and directed her to the kitchen. We sat down at the table in chairs facing each other.

"You could offer a girl a drink, you know? Did your manners leave when I did?"

"I don't keep any Riesling in the house anymore," I said. "Nobody here to drink it."

"But I know you've got Tennessee Honey here. I'd take a shot of that," she said.

A new development. Traci didn't drink hard liquor when we were together.

I poured us both a shot and handed one to her. She took it with her left hand, and I noted that she still wore her wedding rings.

"Nice touch," I said to her.

"I noticed yours is gone," she replied back.

"So where is dickhead lurking?" I asked.

"Back in California, I suppose," she said. "We split up about a month ago. Outside of that big dick of his, he really didn't have anything I wanted, nor needed."

I shouldn't have, but I just had to ask. It had been killing me for a year, and I had to have an answer.

"So you left me after 20 years because Larry has a nine-inch pole," I asked incredulously.

Traci got a funny look on her face and started to break out in a light sweat on her forehead. I just knew that her next answer would be the truth.

"Yeah, pretty much, I guess," she all but whispered.

"Aaaiiieeeyyy!!" I shrieked, causing her to push away from the table.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of a slut throws away 20 great years of marriage for some idiot who's got a big dick? I know I don't have nine inches, but didn't I always make sure to get you off, with my dick, hands, and tongue?"

"I will never be able to understand it," she started. "It's like something came over me when I saw how big his monster was in his sweats, and I had to have it. And he is very skillful with that thing, too, and honestly, your dick never felt anywhere near as good as his did when he made love to me here."

"No, you mean when he fucked you here," I jumped in. "I've got video, and if that was lovemaking than you really are a slut."

"Well, then, call it what you will, but I couldn't get enough of that for the first two months. Then as the thrill of the newer, bigger dick wore off as I got stretched out a bit and accustomed to it, I figured out there was nothing else. It was all about him, and I was just a willing partner. We hardly talked except when he was fucking me, and there was no 'us.' You know, in all that time, he never once put his mouth on my pussy. It was just about his big dick.

"And on the life side, I couldn't get a good job there after quitting mine here with no notice, so that hurt. And he had limited funds to begin with thanks to child support, so it seemed like every day was a struggle. Then he got fired for abusing his company credit card. Apparently somebody tipped off his company's internal audit department that he bought my plane ticket with his card, and he got pissed at me for that. But when they started looking into it, he apparently had been using the card for some extras for some time. So we decided to call it a day, and I decided to come back home to see if I could beg for my old job back, and maybe see if there was any opening left in your heart for me."

I smiled inwardly when she made the comment about Larry getting fired for buying her plane ticket on his company credit card. When I spotted the e-ticket, I knew Traci's card wouldn't have paid for both the cash and the ticket, and I figured he didn't have the money, so I was pretty sure dickhead just used his company card and tried to bury it. The audit department was very thankful for my phone call.

"I will give you an A+ for cheekiness," I spit back. "You didn't give a shit about my feelings when you left. If I didn't accidently find out what was going on, you would have walked out of here with my heart and my balls in your pocket, and you didn't give a shit. Thank God I found out, so you only left with my heart, and I got to keep my balls.

"So, no, I have no more room in my heart for you. I will always love you to some extent - I can't seem to get that stain off of me, but you need to stay as far away from me as possible. Who knows, maybe our daughter might have a little room left in her heart for you."

"Well, I had to try," she said as she stood up. She slowly removed both of her rings, and held them out to me.

I slowly shook my head. "Keep them. They should be able to pay for a newer car when this one dies."

"I truly am sorry I hurt you, Bob," she said.

"No, Traci, you are truly sorry that I'm not a lame-ass and you fucked up a really good thing. Maybe somewhere further down the line, you might be a little sorry that you hurt me."

And for the second time, Traci walked out of my life.

Seeing Traci again put my life in a downturn again. I was moody all week at the office. Fortunately, Adele was behind the bar at Chuck's when I went in Friday night looking for a meal, a lot of booze and some good old-fashioned common sense. She could tell something was wrong by the look in my eyes, she said, as she laid a Crown Black double on the bar in front of me.

"She showed up, didn't she?" Adele queried. I nodded.

"Could I really have been that bad that she left me after two days?" I asked Adele quietly. "She told me it was all about his 9-inch dick, and how wonderful it made her feel. It made her feel so wonderful she was willing to throw away a good 20-year marriage! Can it really be as simple as that?

"Then, a year later, when she's gotten used to his big dick and it is no longer a magic wand, she wants to come back home to me, and hopes I'm whipped enough and stupid enough to take her back. Even if I was stupid enough to do that, for how long would that be? Until she found someone with a 10-inch dick?"

Adele grabbed off the whole bottle of Crown Black, took me by the arm and led me to a table just off the bar. She refilled my glass, and filled one for herself as well. She told one of her servers to cover for her for a bit.

"Bob, you ever hear the term 'cock-crazy'?"

I had heard the term a few times, so I nodded.

"I believe it's a real thing, Bob. As far as I can tell, it doesn't happen very often, but when it does, a woman just loses all control and can only think with her vagina - sort of like when a man starts thinking with his dick.

"But it doesn't happen to women very often; way less often than it happens to men. But when it does, she's toast.

"The dirty little secret between the sexes is that most men can separate sex and love, while most women can't. Most guys can have sex with a stranger, leave, and never think about the woman again. But we women, most of us, aren't built that way. When a man gives us pleasure, we are in love with him at that moment, and maybe for some time after that. And if we think we can get that pleasure repeatedly, we really start to fall for him, despite the fact that sometimes there's already a husband or lover there. That's when it gets really difficult.

"That's what I think happened to your Traci. It might never happen again, or it might happen every time she has sex with a different man. This really wasn't a you-thing, Bob. Like the old saying goes, 'it's not you, it's me.' Couldn't be more true in this case, Bob."

"But she still could have said no the first time, and that would have been the end of it," I said.

"There is that, Bob."

With that, Adele and I stood up, picked up our glasses and the bottle, and moved back to the bar. Time to get back on with life.

Two weeks later at work, I had a phone message from somebody named Lavonne Brown from the bank where Traci used to work, and was trying to get back with.

"Great," I thought to myself. "The bitch expects me to give her a good character reference? I don't think so."

But being brought up with manners, I at least owed the woman a call back, so I did and steeled myself for what I thought was coming.

"Mr. Kingsland, you probably don't know me, but I know you, at least through reputation, from your ex-wife, and while this may sound forward, I was hoping we could get together for a drink sometime.

"Mr. Kingsland. Mr. Kingsland?"

I snapped out of the alternate universe I had slipped into, took a breath, and replied, "Miss Brown, I don't have any clue what you're trying to pull here, but if it has anything to do withy my ex-wife, I'm out."

"Mr. Kingsland, Bob, this has absolutely nothing to do with your ex-wife, although it is because she was stupid enough to divorce you that I'm calling. In the 10 years we had worked together, she always said you were an amazing husband, father, and lover, and now that you're free, I sure would like to see if she was right. I've been divorced about five years now, and it seems like all the good guys are taken. But when I saw your ex in the building earlier this week trying to get a job here, it reminded me that you were available, and ..."

"OK, I'll take you at your word. In that case, why don't we do drinks at Chuck's on Friday night?"

I wanted her on home turf, so to speak, in case she was a plant from Traci, or if things really didn't work out. If she was a plant from Traci, then I really pitied the girl, because I knew Adele would tear her to shreds in at least one way.

I left work right at 5 on Friday and hustled over to Chuck's to fill in Adele about the evening's activities. Naturally, she told me that she had my back.

I sat at a table near the back and kept a sharp eye on the front door. At almost straight-up 6, a leggy brunette in a "little black dress" walked in the door, went over to the bar and asked Adele if I was there. Adele pointed to my table, and Lavonne Brown headed my way on three-inch heels. As she walked over, I saw Adele in the background give me a thumbs-up.

When she got close to my table, I rose as I was taught to, and she stuck out a hand for a solid shake. I'm guessing she was about 45, 5-7, 125, with long hair, average-sized boobs and a thin waist. She was pretty without being beautiful, and her blue eyes twinkled despite the low lighting in the bar. At least it was a nice package at which to look.

A half-hour into our far-ranging discussion she tells me about divorcing her husband of 18 years because he felt his marriage vows were merely a suggestion of fidelity. So I told her about me and Traci, and she sat there in shock. I also explained to her that Traci hadn't divorced me, I divorced her, because I, too, actually believed in my vows. She smiled brightly when I said that.

An hour into our discussion I ordered dinner, and Lavonne and I did everything from appetizers to dessert. She had never been to Chuck's before, but noted it would now have to be on her regular go-to list. I told her I would be glad to bring her here anytime she wanted.

We didn't have sex on that first date, which I think was a good move on both of our parts. But I walked her out to her car at the end of the night, leaned in and planted a soft kiss on what turned out to be two very soft lips. She didn't hesitate when I leaned in for the kiss, and in fact I think she welcomed it. We made a date for the very next Friday, again at Chuck's, and while she drove off into the night, I walked back inside Chuck's feeling like the conquering hero.

"Well, that seemed to go well," Adele said as I walked up to the bar for a nightcap. "Drink's on me."

"No, Big Sis, this one's on me."

Next Friday couldn't get here fast enough for me. Work, which had become my solace when my life was shit, felt almost like a new adventure, and my boss even commented about my renewed enthusiasm. It didn't hurt that I finally figured out an answer to an engineering problem which had plagued one particular job for months, and the solution was going to save us a ton on the project.

For the second straight week, Lavonne Brown showed up at Chuck's straight-on the appointed time. She wore a low-cut red dress that ended about three inches above her knees, and I was so impressed I asked her to do a twirl for me. Her face got almost as red as her dress, but she gave me my request.

We had a great dinner and a great time, and I invited her back to the house. We wound up necking like teenagers on the sofa for a while, and while she looked beautiful, I didn't feel this was the right time for our first sexual encounter, so we small-talked our way back to a proper good night. Since she had followed me to my house, she got to be the one leaving, and when I opened the front door, she gave me a devilish grin and planted one hard on my mouth. Wow. That girl really knows how to end a date. I told her I'd call.

I waited three days so she wouldn't think I was too anxious, then I invited her out to dinner and dancing at some place other than Chuck's, and I would actually do the date thing and pick her up. We set the date for two weeks from the past Friday.

While I had started dating a little before Lavonne called me, I hadn't had sex with a woman in about a year, and I hadn't had sex with anyone other than Traci in about 22 years. I have to admit to having butterflies in my stomach like a nervous 16-year-old come date night. I know the sex act is like riding a bicycle and you supposedly never forget, but each woman is different, with different likes and desires. I was hoping I was still able to figure it out on the fly. After 22 years, Traci was a done deal, but this was new territory. Damn, Bob, stop thinking so much.

Holy shit! Lavonne answered the door in a spring, floral dress with a wrap-type front that was cut pretty low in the front and about mid-thigh in length. She filled it out to perfection. I think my jaw dropped open. Uncool, Bob, very uncool.

The restaurant was great, I think, because my partner was great. The dancing after was pretty good, considering I really don't dance, but Lavonne moved good enough for the two of us. I caught several other guys looking and got immediately paranoid. Remember, I am the guy that lost a wife of 20 years after just two days.

At one point Lavonne got up from the table to head to the ladies' room, and I saw two different guys approach her as she made her way across the floor. I about came unglued, but forced myself to remain in my seat at the table. Just because Traci left, didn't mean that all women were going to do that to me ... did it?

I made mention of her admirers when she got back to the table, and how easily she seemed to deflect their advances. Then she studied my face, and the realization hit her that I was still shell-shocked, so to speak, from Traci leaving. I was so confident, so self-assured for 20 years that I had a loving wife, and now I was practically a basket case.

"Bob, we're not all like Traci," she said quietly to me while looking directly into my eyes. "I don't know all the details of what went down with her, but I can assure you I will never bail on you like that. I'm not saying we're going to wind up married some day, but if the time comes for us to split, I won't sneaking out of town with a guy with a big dick."

I'm pretty sure I breathed an audible sigh of relief at that.

The rest of the night went along great, and she asked me inside when I dropped her off at her house at the end of the night. And, son of a gun, it was like riding a bike, only it was a different bike. And this bike made a lot of shrieking noises when I brought her to four hard orgasms with my fingers, and then another four with my tongue. She finished up with a final orgasm as she rode me cowgirl, then she collapsed on my chest after I came a bucket inside of her.

"Wow!" she whispered as she drifted off to sleep in my arms.

I didn't know it then, but Lavonne was to be the start of a new chapter in my life. Although we never got married, we are still "together" after 15 years, and I treasure my time spent with her. I also treasure my time spent with Katie and Rita, but as I said, that's a new chapter, to be written about another time.