CONFESSIONS OF A MARRIED GROUPIE PART 10: Free at last!

As whispered to Lady Lynxx in the Boudoir…

Life was about to become very interesting indeed. Bernard had moved into his own apartment by now and our divorce proceedings were almost over; I breathed a sigh of relief once the final papers were delivered to my door. After just over 6 years of marriage it was over; I was no longer a kept woman and no longer somebody else’s possession. I was free! Let me tell you ladies it was an amazingly good feeling, so good that I treated my self to little shopping.

The divorce settlement had turned out better than even I had expected. I had the house, our two year old BMW SUV and $3,500 a month in alimony payments which would decrease by 50% once I re-married since we didn’t have a child together. I hadn’t realised just how much Bernard was earning until we got to the divorce court. He was clearing close to $150, 000 year with his salary from the security work combined with the private work that he did for some other high ranking professional sports men. To be honest, on hindsight I realised that he could have spent a lot more money on our home and given me money for things quicker than he’d let on in the past. He was bringing in about $12,500 a month and our mortgage had been paid a long time ago since the house was passed on to Bernard from his late mother’s estate about 2 years before he even met me. I was given around $1000 a month for groceries and housekeeping and he’d put about $1,500 into an account for me every month for my own shopping and minor expenses. Just like my girl Lynxx, I like to shop on a budget, so in the rare event that I wanted something like say, a Louis bag or some Jimmy Choo’s my now ex-husband would pay. I had never asked any questions about financial stuff and neither did I care as long as he took care of me. At that point, I needed to figure out where the rest of his dough was going all that time. The court did not report him having savings; on the contrary, he was taking out $10,000 out at a time every month. I began to think…what or who had my once dear husband been spending his money on.

I was clearing up the house one Sunday afternoon and trying to remove all traces and memories of my ex, when I suddenly came across a picture. I wasn’t an old photograph, but it wasn’t new either. It was a photo of a dark-skinned young black woman holding what looked like a three to four month old baby. The baby didn’t look normal; I guessed that the child was what people would cruelly call ‘retarded’
The baby had Down’s syndrome. At the back of the picture it said ‘Malika and Bobby, 1998’ that was a year before Bernard married me. Under that I could just about make out the faded words that had been written over 7 years prior ‘B, I hope you learn to love him someday and do the right thing’
My heart became filled with alarm and panic….could Bernard have fathered a child before he married me? And how on earth could he have kept it hidden all of these years? Was he spending his surplus cash to care for this child?

I had questions that needed answering pronto. I decided to hear it from the horse’s mouth; I called Bernard to talk over at a coffee spot nearby and get some straight answers. Even if I didn’t get straight answers, I would be able to tell from his reaction what the score was.
When he met up with me, he seemed worried. That was understandable since he had no idea what I was about to say. Once we had ordered our beverages, I brought out the photo and confronted him.
‘Bernard, who is this in the photo? Do you have something you wanna tell me…cos this is making you look real suspect right now’
Bernard sighed deeply and his eyes were starting to well up with tears. I guessed that a confession was coming.
‘Where did you find that? I’ve been looking for it for over 2 years now…’ he replied
‘I found it behind the washer in the laundry room. You still haven’t answered my question. Who…’
‘Okay, okay I’ll tell you. The girl in that picture, Malika, was my first love. We dated throughout high school and in college. You know that my mama died just when I’d got my first job after leaving college. Well a year later Malika got pregnant but I didn’t want her anymore when I met you. I wanted to tell you then, but I figured that a chick like you that every guy wanted would have dropped me if you knew I had a baby mama. If got even worse when she gave birth to my son and he had Down ’s syndrome; at the time, I just wasn’t ready for the responsibility of a retarded child so I cut her off from my life. I still paid her money to look after him, but I swear to you I never saw her again until about two years ago. Bobby was about 4 or 5 years old by then and he was doing better than I had expected. Apparently, he wasn’t completely helpless and had a milder form of the condition’
‘So…you left that poor girl on her own to bring up you child? How could you live with yourself! I can’t believe that I married a man like you…’
‘Please Maria, don’t just cut me down like that! It wasn’t easy for me too you know…Malika just wasn’t the kind of woman that I imagined to be my wife, you were. Were supposed to live the dream you and I, we were supposed to have perfect healthy children together. I needed to know that the down’s baby wasn’t my fault; I’d already blamed her for that. I warned her to stop her constant partying while she was pregnant and give up smoking, but she ignored me and carried on. That’s not what I wanted in a wife and to be honest Maria, you looked the part…you also never questioned me about anything, you just did as you were told’
‘Oh so I was right in thinking that I was your ‘trophy’ wife then…no wonder you made me quit the notion of a career…so I could be an incubator for your babies! How ever that child was born was not Malika’s fault; she may have been young and reckless but that does not cause a child to be born with a genetic defect. Honestly, I thank God that I followed my heart and took birth control. You probably would never have told me about your extra marital child anyway. Bernard you make me sick…’
‘I can imagine that I do. I have been seeing him about once a month for the past couple of years though. I realised that I was dead wrong for leaving them alone so I was making up for lost time. I wanted to tell you…but there was never a right time.
Oh come on, you weren’t complaining about the life you lived Maria! Tell me honestly would you have married me if I’d told you? Give me a damn break!’
‘That’s not the point! I should have been given a choice…if I turned around and said ‘sorry Bernard, I was actually born a man’ would you like it? There are certain things that you need to tell someone before they marry you…that was one of them! I can’t believe that you managed to hide it for so long. Well I don’t need to tell you that my divorce attorney will be hearing about this…’
‘Do whatever you wanna do Maria, I tired and fed up of this and want it over already. For your information, I pay for Malika and Bobby’s home every month and also his upkeep and his private school fees. I’m not completely irresponsible…so don’t think that you’ll get more in the divorce settlement. I have a dependant to take care of and you don’t. You just have yourself…’
I’d heard enough and I stood up to leave; I hadn’t even touched my coffee. I threw the picture down on the table before I walked off.
‘That wasn’t the point of all this…I just had to find out for myself what I’ve known for a long time now. I’ve been living a lie; good night Bernard…I guess I’ll see you in court’

That was the end of that. I tried to imagine what that poor girl went through all those years that she had to take care of her son without his father. As far as Bernard was concerned, she didn’t fit his little picture of paradise so she was shunted to one side. I thought about reaching out to her, but thought better of it. That would only open up another can of worms.

When I told my attorney James of the news, he was ecstatic. This meant that he could push for me to have almost anything in the settlement. I didn’t want everything though, I felt bad for Bernard’s son. I wrote down a list of what I really wanted and James assured me that I would get it, or he wasn’t the best divorce attorney in town.
The first time that he had brought some paper down to my house on his way home from work, sparks flew but we only kissed. After some time, I let him eat me out, but that was it. I knew I was attracted to him from our first meeting. We’d gotten to know each other well over time and needed to encourage him to work harder for my case. I was basically using what I had to get what I wanted, once my divorce was over, I planned to sell the house and leave town. That would be the end of my little fling with James.

James was a beautiful and educated 33 year old chocolate brother. His skin was as dark as night and he had a stunning physique for somebody that sat at a desk for most of his working day. James liked to workout at least five times a week and it showed. That day that I told him the news about Bernard, he decided to take me out to celebrate; being divorced himself, there was no need to worry about ‘the wife’ catching us. We stayed out at the club until about 2am, then he took me back to his place. I’d never been there before, but as I’d expected, he had a sleek bachelor pad that was as neat as hell. I was afraid to drop a pin in there…it was so clean that once could eat off the kitchen floor. I guessed that he didn’t spend much time at home.
James gave me a short tour of the apartment that inevitably ended up in the bedroom.
He had a massive leather framed bed that was the main feature of the room. I shuddered internally as James sat me on the edge of the bed and took of my stilettos. He seemed to like my red polish as he sucked my perfectly manicured toes. No one had ever sucked my toes before and I was surprised to find myself getting very wet. James licked the palm of my feet from top to bottom over and over again…if I didn’t come soon I would go crazy; the feeling was so intense and once I put my hands in between my legs to touch my clit, he knew that I was more that ready for his dick.

My eyes almost popped out of my head when he brought out what was probably about 11 inches of dick from his Emporio Armani boxers. My face must have read ‘WTF?’ because he laughed at me as he was putting on a Magnum XL condom.
‘Damn James…I don’t know if my pussy can take all that. Take it slow, please…’
‘It’s cool, I’m used to that. If you could take it just like that then I would be worried that you were a hoe or something’
I didn’t answer that, I just smiled. Most people would call me a hoe, but James didn’t need to know that. I gritted my teeth as he inched his way in, I made a mental note to not have anal with this dude. Missionary was the only position that I could manage at first cos that mutherfu*ker hurt like hell. I was getting wet but the deeper he went, I felt like he was ripping me apart. Now I knew why numerous men had told me that I was tight. I was quite uncomfortable but James was enjoying himself thoroughly.
‘Sh*t Maria…you’re so tight baby. I feel like I’m fucking a teen or something…you’re gonna make me come too quick!’ he said lustily.
He buried his head between my breasts and then started licking them; it helped me to relax and then I felt like coming really hard. James flipped me into doggy position, but cocked one of my legs up so he could really get in deep. When I looked down, I realised that I was dripping wet; he instinctively sped up his stroke and then put his hand over my clit and rubbed it while pressing down at the same time. It wasn’t long until I came so hard that I was sacred that my heart would stop. I begged him to keep fu*king me, until I was worn out. I don’t know how many times I came, but it felt like one lonnnnnnnngggggggggg orgasm.

To finish off, James put his huge tool between my titties and told me to press them together around his d*ck. It was really turning him on to fuck my tits and I helped him along by licking the tip of his co*k everytime it came near my chin. He eventually took the rubber off and came all over my face and tits. Sex with James was proving to be great.

The morning after, I decided to check out some courses to study. I had to get my life back on track and I really wanted a career to make me feel like somebody again. As usual life is never straight forward so being a mature student would not be as easy as I thought it would be. But I’ll save that for next week….

Until next week ladies…

‘The married groupie’

Lady Lynxx: look forward to the next instalment next week!

Thoughts?

*Please note: names and personal details have been changed to protect identities!*

© Lady Lynxx 2008

Part one is here for those who missed it:

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A161578

and part two also below:

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A166092

and here is part three:

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A175096

and part 4

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A185707

part 5

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A192891

part 6

http://www.balleralert.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A203054

part 7

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A220145

part 8

http://balleralert.ning.com/profiles/blog/show?id=2015113%3ABlogPost%3A234877

part 9

http://www.balleralert.com/profiles/blogs/confessions-of-a-married

About lady lynxx- ladylynxx.ning.com

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