Page 8 of Recipes for Life

I grimaced as I thought about what had transpired weeks before that had caused me to be in this place, getting ready for mediation with my wife.

"Hey, handsome, you free tonight?" Helen walked into my office and closed my door, trailing her hand over my shoulders and giving it a light squeeze. Helen was hot, like dirty hot, fake tits, probably fake ass, and a waist that made me salivate.

"I could be." I grinned at her. "What did you have in mind?"

She winked at me. "That's for me to know, and for you to find out. I'll meet you at the apartment later. Text me if anything changes."

I sent a quick text to Odette, telling her that we had some clients in town, and I'd just spend the night here in the city. Knowing she was used to it, I didn't bother checking to see if she responded. I love her, but I hate to say that I'm bored. I want the excitement Helen gives me, the passion. She knows this is a temporary thing, that I was feeling restless in my marriage, and that we had Lux young, so it changed the course of our dreams. I wouldn't change having my baby girl for anything, but I worked hard, and I deserved to let off some steam. Helen knew the score—that I was married, and I was never leaving my wife. She knew once the passion faded, we would part and go our separate ways with no strings attached.

The workday wrapped up rather quickly for a Friday, and I was heading out of the office by six-thirty. I texted Odette again, saying I'd call her around eleven, after my business meeting.

Okay, love you.She had replied, and I felt a stab of guilt but quickly pushed it down.

I made my way to the apartment, which was only a quick seven-minute drive from the office, and made my way up to the third floor. The smell of candles and something cooking invaded my senses, and I shook my head. Helen was always making these dinners or creating a mood, but I paid it no mind. I wanted to fuck for a few hours and then go home. If that's what she wanted, fine, but I couldn't care less. She was in the kitchen, wearing a see-through robe and cooking some chicken dish. Any appetite I had was gone as my mouth was salivatingwith the thought of her. I quickly took off my tie, settled behind her, flipped her around so she was bent over the kitchen table, and grabbed my half-hard cock, stroking it.

"Please, please, fuck me, Murphy. I need you," Helen moaned, pushing back into me. She knew what I liked.

"Beg," I demanded. I was a dominant person in general, and it came out full force during sex.

"Please, I need your thick cock in my pussy. I'm so wet for you, can't you feel it?"

I plunged two fingers into her dripping wet cunt and started forcefully fucking her while she moaned and writhed around them, her cunt desperately seeking to be filled with more. I applied pressure to her clit with my thumb, and her legs started shaking, signaling she was close.

"Ah ah, not yet, my good fucking slut. Should I let you come on my fingers or my cock?"

"Your cock, please, please, please..."

"Since you beg so nicely..." I pulled the condom from my back pocket, wrapped it up, and thrusted into her with no warning. That alone set her off, and her pussy spasmed around me, and I followed shortly after her.

That was the first round of the evening, after which Helen turned on some music and finished cooking dinner and lit some more candles throughout the apartment. She tried to engage me in some conversation, but I was too busy answering some emails to pay her much attention. Honestly, I never really paid much attention when she talked to me. Sensing my boredom with the muted conversation, she took my hand and led me back into the bedroom where round two started.

A lamp and a scream shattering from somewhere in the room had me dazed for a few seconds before I turned around, and my eyes met Odette's while I was balls-deep inside another woman. I couldn't move; I couldn't even breathe. This had to be some form of guilty trick my mind was playing on me...there was no way this was happening. I was sure I had made up Odette's presence here completely in my mind until the chair went flying.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.I grabbed the sheets and wrapped them around my waist and reached for her...only for her to sidestep a few inches from me and out of my reach.

"If you think you'll ever be allowed to touch me again, you're sorely mistaken."

She can't mean that, she doesn't mean that.

Helen spoke up from behind me, and before I could stop it, she was telling my wife just how long we'd been fooling around. I stepped in between them, wanting Odette to talk to me and not Helen. I wanted her to ask me questions so I could explain. We could leave here and go home and talk this whole thing out. Why the fuck was Helen still talking? I hadn't tuned into what she was saying as my gaze was totally focused on my wife.

Odette had this look on her face, like she was desperately trying to figure out a way to get out of this room without me. I knew every tell of her face; I saw the devastation she was so clearly trying to hide in every feature.

I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, and she saw it. She witnessed everything. How long had she been standing there? I felt my face pale. She was looking at me with ill-concealed disgust, and I couldn't help myself, I leaned into her a bit more and she gagged. I instantly realized that I smelled like another woman and sex, and I winced.

Odette stood frozen for what I'm sure was only a second, but felt like a lifetime, and then Helen started talking again, spouting off some absolute bullshit about how I didn't love my wife, how we'd got married too young, and I had regrets. I've never felt so angry before at hearing the lies she was touting off to my wife. I turned and yelled at her to shut the fuck up, and when I turned back around, Odette was gone. She had run from me.

How was I going to fix this if she left? I'd go home, she'd be at home. I told Helen this was never happening again and to let herself out while I rushed to get to my car and head home.

I was wrong; she wasn't at home. I called her phone dozens of times, but it all went straight to voicemail. I checked her location, only to find she had turned it off. I growled in anger. I knew the only place she would go at a time like this was Wynn's or my mom's. If Odette went to my mom's, I would head over there now, and we would talk this out.

My last hope was shattered when I called Mom and found she had Lux for the evening. I tried to play it off as I was just checking in, but who knows if she bought it. Knowing my daughter was safe, I kept the onslaught of calls and texts to Odette going. After two hours of no responses, I called Wynn, who firmly handed me my ass upon answering.

"What kind of man are you that you don't know where your daughter oryourwifeis at three a.m. on a Friday night? Luckily it wasn't me who caught you; otherwise, you and your girlfriend's bodies would be six feet under by now. My lawyer will be in touch first thing."

Lawyer? What fucking lawyer? She wasn't leaving me; I just needed to talk to her. She’d understand...she had to understand. I love her, only her. This wasn't about that.

That was the last time I’d seen my wife. I can only assume Wynn got her the lawyer she had, Bethany. She was good, way good, top of her game in family law and divorce. She had filed paperwork before I could even get my thoughts together, and I was stuck. I tried for weeks to intercept her at drop-offs. I tried her number over and over until I was blocked. I had finally made peace with the fact that I would have to force her hand to see me. Mediation would require her to see me multiple times, and I would get her to see reason, understand everything. We could move on from this; wehadto move on from this.

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