After twenty years of marriage, my wife left me for a man she met while attending nursing college. The day the heartless bitch received her diploma as a registered nurse, was the day she served me with divorce papers at the commencement ceremony in front of everyone. She moved out the next day to be with her new young stud. He was handsome to a fault; like a petulant male model. He has a full head of hair, perfect teeth and he is twenty years younger than the adulteress. It took great restraint not knock his perfect teeth down his throat.
Granted, I’m not a handsome man. I have receding hairline, so I keep my hair clipped short and neat. My hands are rough and callused from heavy construction work and at six-one, and I’m in great shape for a man of fifty. I’m a direct man, sometimes blunt; but I’m an honest, and I always keep my word.
It was a bitter and acrimonious divorce, and I wanted blood. I hired an aggressive and ruthless woman attorney, and it was money well spent. My lawyer eviscerated the adulteress’s attorney. My cheating wife got half of the proceeds from the sale of our house and its contents. In consideration of the fact that I paid for her education and the income she would have received if we stayed married, the bitch signed off my retirement and mutual funds.
Do I sound bitter about my ex-wife? Hell yes, I’m bitter! It would have been less painful had my ex-wife cut my healthy-beating heart from my chest with an obsidian knife, and toss me into an active volcano.
My parents raised me to treat women with respect. I always thought we had a stable, comfortable marriage. Our sexual relations-lovemaking was tepid at best, and she refused me oral sex. I was true to my marriage vows, and I loved her. I tried to be considerate of her opinions and needs. I let the woman decorate our house the way she wanted it in flowery pastels and dainty uncomfortable furniture. What a pile of crap! Look where being a considerate gentleman got me; it made me a cuckold for God sakes.
I got a fresh start after the divorce was final. I bought a piece of property for taxes with a large stone house and a barn. There is a small pond on the property. I later discovered an overgrown dirt road that ended at an abandoned gravel pit.
The most costly renovation was to the slate roof of the house. This required specialists in the building trade and the roof replacement included a complete tear off, resetting slate tiles with bronze nails and replacing all the copper flashing and gutters.
My friends, employees and I remodeled the inside of the house, stripping the original woodwork and restoring the dark paneling to original condition. I replaced all the wiring and all the plumbing. I painted the rooms in neutral, masculine colors and bought massive comfortable overstuffed leather furniture. In time, I planned to put a concrete floor in the barn and a concrete driveway.
Having a gravel pit on the property provided me with a source of base stone when the time came. I drove down there to check things out and noticed a series of tire tracks leading to a small overgrown gully off of the north side of the gravel pit. I got out of my truck and walked in. I found approximately fifty extra heavy-duty plastic trash bags full of canceled mail. It was all junk mail and catalogs, some of it two years old. I went back to the house and got my tablet and returned to photograph the contents of random bags I pulled from the pile.
I did some checking and found out that the names and addresses on the mail were from people on my postal carrier’s route. I stacked out the road and gully with time elapse trail cameras to try and catch the person dumping the mail. I hoped it was my postal carrier because if it was, I had plans for her.
It was pretty Mary and the cameras recorded her on my property leaving another bag. I loaded the pictures to my laptop and android tablet as evidence when I confronted her with my proposal. Before I confronted her, I telephoned a retired State Trooper, John Megan who owns a private investigating agency. John is a hunting buddy of mine and referred me to my divorce attorney. He agreed to get me personal information about Mary no questions asked. I gave him a case of Templeton Rye for his trouble.
To make a long story short, Mary Jones, my Postal Carrier was 39 years old, at the time and a widow. She is financially well off from her deceased husband’s insurance. Mary has outstanding credit, no debt, and her modest house is mortgage free. Mary lived alone and didn’t have a boyfriend. John described her as being shy and passive. I learned Mary is an accomplished pianist. Her closest living relative is her foster mother living in another state. Mary was eligible to retire with a full pension in five years if she didn’t get caught and prosecuted. Even if she managed to get off without prison time, her legal fees would hurt her financially.
Mary is approximately five-seven with a slim, willowy but womanly figure. As near as I could tell through her loose uniform, she had small breasts and a tight, compact ass. Mary has red auburn hair that she always pulled back and hid underneath her uniform cap. It appeared to be braided, although I didn’t know how long her braid was because of the cap. She has green eyes; a turned up nose and generous full lips.
A week before Christmas I gave her sealed red envelope. The envelope contained a Christmas card of photos of her dumping the trash bag. The following Monday evening, Mary appeared at my front door and asked if we could talk. I invited her in and asked her to sit down at the kitchen table. She took off her long puffy down coat and knit hat and sat down. She was wearing a snug red sweater; form-fitting faded blue jeans and pink moon boots. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but then I never saw her wearing makeup. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have a man in her life, and perhaps not.
Mary’s hair was styled in a single braid down her back that reached the bottom of her pert ass. The braid was very thick although it tapered almost to a point the last six inches. Looking at her, I wondered what she would look like with bangs. I also realized that I was correct about her having small breasts and a small tight ass.
I offered her a cup of coffee, and she declined. I sat down with mine and said, “I have you dead to rights, Mary, and I’m not interested in reasons or excuses.” I slid a green envelope on the table and said, “In this envelope, I have written down what I want from you for me to keep quiet. If you agree, and you don’t have a choice, you will walk away from this with a clean slate. You will have to trust me to keep my word. I want seven months of your time. Call it a tryst. Or you can take your chances with the authorities. Be a smart girl; I’ll see you Monday, 6:00 PM sharp.”
The following Sunday at the agreed time, a subdued Mary appeared at my doorstep. I let her in and locked the door behind her. Per my instructions, she had styled her long hair in a braided bun. She removed her down coat, and per my instructions, Mary was wearing a nice dress with no bra or panties underneath. She was also wearing high heels, something she was unaccustomed to by the way she walked in them.
I pointed to a corner of the room and told her to stand there facing the wall. I roughly cut her dress off with upholstery scissors, warning her gruffly to keep facing the wall. She stayed naked wearing high heels for ten minutes, while I sipped chilled Champagne and admired the view.
I bought my ex-wife expensive white pearls on our third wedding anniversary, and she never wore them. They would now grace Mary’s neck. I got up from my chair with the pearls and a glass of Champagne, and said, “You are a beautiful woman, Mary Jones. Turn around and face me.” When she did, I held up the glass to her lips, and we shared the last glass of Champagne.
I dropped the glass to the floor, kissed her lips and said, “These pearls are for you. Consider them a holiday gift, and you will wear your pearls when you visit me.” I put the pearls around her neck and gently caressed her breasts with them, watching her nipples harden at my touch, commenting to the fact of her arousal and watching her blush, with pleasure I hoped, embarrassment most likely. I played with her pussy, whispering what I was going to do to her.
I then removed the hairpins from Mary’s bun and let her braid drop down between her ass cheeks. I cut six inches or so off the bottom of her braid with the upholstery shears making it the same thickness its entire length.
I then sat in my leather chair, and Mary knelt down and gave me a nice blowjob. I undid her braid and played with her long thick ponytail, wrapping it around my hand as my orgasm burned through me. I took her hair out of the ponytail watching as Mary’s flowed long and silky to the top of her ass. It was very beautiful. It was mine to do what I liked for the next seven months.
Mary spent the night, and I had my way with her. In the morning I made us breakfast, and after, sent her home for the Christmas Holiday. She was to return on December 31st at our appointed time. Mary left wearing her pearls underneath her coat and nothing else. She also left with written instructions to open when she got home.
Mary returned for our the next tryst precisely on time. When she removed her coat, I was pleased to see she was wearing a short tight strapless black dress that accentuated her figure, and she was wearing her hair loose and free down her back.
It was blunt cut all one length and about four inches shorter. I was also pleased to see that Mary had eyebrow length blunt bangs that set off her green eyes. She looked cute and sexy with bangs, and I told her so.
Without a word or prompt, Mary slowly undressed in front of me. When she was naked, I took her upstairs to the bathroom and had her sit on the vanity by the sink with her legs spread apart. I used electric clippers and buzzed all the hair from her pussy. I lathered the remaining stubble and shaved her pussy bald and smooth. Did I mention my ex-wife hated oral sex?
I went down on Mary, while a bottle of Champagne was chilling and waiting for us in the ice bucket. I’m not bragging, OK, I am bragging, but I gave her multiple orgasms with my tongue and fingers. We finished the oral delight with a glass of Champagne. I then instructed her style her hair in twin pigtails to complement her new bangs.
Without me asking, Mary gave me head to the bathroom while I played with her pigtails and it seemed to me that she was getting better at it. My orgasm was Nirvana, and after we finished off the bottle of Champagne. Mary looked much younger with bangs and pigtails.
Get dressed,” I said, “I made reservations for us at a restaurant. We will celebrate with dinner and dancing to ring in the New Year. Mary’s hair remained in pigtails the whole evening.
I held her close, while we were dancing, and I regretted blackmailing her, but there was no turning back. I was in for the long haul, and I would see this out to the end as planned.
Afterwards, we returned to my house for champagne and more sex. I made slow, gentle love to her, and she fell asleep beside me. I woke the next morning to find her pressed up against and I liked it. Mary left with more written instructions to keep three appointments that I had made for her and to bring her checkbook to pay for them all.
On the Saturday of our next tryst, Mary was a half hour late. She had just come from the beauty salon, and she looked hot.
She had beautiful large spiral curls that fell to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Mary was wearing makeup done to perfection, and she was wearing a red dress, and of course her pearls. She spent her money well for me. I made her strip for me. Mary was stunning.It was if she practiced stripping in front of a mirror. Her pussy was still smooth and hairless from the electrolysis.
It would be like that permanently and not require daily shaving. I buried my hands in all those curls while Mary gave me the best head ever, and as always she did not spill a drop. Mary dressed and styled her hair in a loose, curly bun. We took in a movie and dinner and then back home for more sex. Afterward, we sat on the couch together and watched classic movies on TV. She spent the night, and I will honestly say I enjoyed holding her close before I fell asleep.
During our trysts over the months, Mary styled her long hair for me in just about every way possible. I took lots of pictures of my favorite styles with Mary posing in the nude wearing her pearls.
I liked her hair best in an elegant French twist. We settled in a pattern of going out to dinner and dancing or the movies. She liked music concerts and exploring antiques shops and I took her there. We watched Classic Movies together on the couch. She always spent the night and left in the morning. Our lovemaking was incredible, and I enjoyed her orgasms as much as mine. Mary seemed to be enjoying our time together.
The last two trysts were quite interesting. During one I stood in front of a full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door so that we could watch. Mary knelt on pillows, and while she sucked on my cock, I slowly cut her middle of the back length auburn hair to the base of her neck with professional hair cutting scissors.
Mary left the next morning with her final instructions. She returned for our last tryst much relieved having arrived directly from the salon with a short, blunt pageboy with bangs. Her once long luxurious tresses were now cut just below her ears. She assumed I made arrangements to have her hair cut much, much shorter. I dropped hints her final haircut would be a short pixie haircut cut. The last and final blowjob was the best one yet. Although her hair was short, it was still thick and soft, and she remained a beautiful woman.
Per our agreement, I dug a trench in the gravel pit with a backhoe. We threw all of the trash bags into the trench, and all the brush I saved in clearing the road to the gravel pit. I added diesel fuel, and we sat and watched until it burned itself out.
Mary sat down next to me, and I pulled her close and held her for one last time.
After the fire was out and the evidence destroyed, I filled the hole and leveled the ground.
“It is over,” I said, turning the backhoe off and climbing down, “I’ve enjoyed our time together, and I wish you well.”
“Is that all you have to say to me, Michael?” Mary asked.
“Well, yes, what more is there to say?”
Like a stubborn fool, I let her walk away. I should have told her how I felt about her.
One year later, Mary received a promotion to an indoor job at the Post Office waiting on customers at the front counter. I missed her, but I’m a stubborn bastard, and I have my pride.
I finished repairing a refurbishing my barn and poured my concrete driveway.
My ex-wife turned up on my doorstep one Saturday morning.
I didn’t invite her inside. We talked on the porch. She said she lost her nursing license for a year. The other good news was her boyfriend dumped her. My ex-wife asked to borrow two-thousand from me, or the bank was repossessing her car. I gave her twenty dollars for a bus pass and sent her on her way.
The following Saturday evening, my doorbell rang again, and Mary was standing there wearing her red sweater, faded blue jeans, and pink moon boots. She was also wearing her pearls.
I noticed that her hair had grown out from that short pageboy. It was still the same rich red auburn and pulled up in a French twist. Her makeup was impeccable, and she still had the same sexy bangs framing her green eyes.
“Do you have anything to say to me, Michael?” Mary asked.
“Yes, I’m stubborn, and didn’t know a good thing when I held you in my arms.”
“Do you have anything else to say to me?” She asked.
“I think about you a lot, Mary,” I answered truthfully.“You’re a fine woman, and we all make mistakes and especially me. I wish those seven months we had together occurred under different circumstances. I’ve missed you, Mary.”
I’ve missed you too, Michael, and I want seven months of your time, and then another seven months; so on and so forth.”
Mary put her arms around my neck and kissed my lips long and deep and said, “I’m not giving you a choice, so be a smart boy, and by the way, lover, I adore take-charge men, pearls, and Champagne…”