Another Totally Unromantic Love Story

Another Totally Unromantic Love Story Another Totally Unromantic Love Story

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


The literary concept of the loner has always fascinated me. And nobody did it better than the legendary 1940s Film Noir movies. So I thought it might be fun to try to update that meme to the 21st Century. The folks who watch TCM will probably figure out where I got the idea from.


The literary concept of the loner has always fascinated me. And nobody did it better than the legendary 1940s Film Noir movies. So I thought it might be fun to try to update that meme to the 21st Century. The folks who watch TCM will probably figure out where I got the idea from.


Submitted: April 16, 2016

A A A | A A A


Submitted: April 16, 2016



Another Totally Unromantic Love Story

I’m a man who floats through life with no attachments whatsoever. It’s easier that way. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I was ever one of the guys.

The dudes in my school hung out in testosterone fueled packs. I was a total loner. I had no interest in sports. Never played them. Watching them was boring. Some of the simpler brains get a thrill out of hunting. I never understood that. Maybe killing something made their own pointless lives so much more significant. I don’t know?

I am as dense as any guy when it comes to the labyrinth that is the female mind. But my nerdiness attracts them. I think it’s the opposite of the “bad-boy” effect. I am so far from being a bad-boy that I intrigue some elements of the estrogen bearing species.

And so, off and on I have had my share of deep sexual experiences, no pun intended. Nevertheless, getting serious with a female requires way too much commitment. All I ever really needed was the occasional one-night-stand, in between frequent dates with the seductive Rosy Palms.

I spent a lot of time in cyberspace. And programming was an obsession. Over the years I made a lot of money writing code. I started on simple jobs at 14 and by the time I was out of high school I had a career.

As you might imagine, I lead an unconventional life. Most days I don’t leave my condo. Give me the design specs and I will give YOU an absolute work of art. All of that the while, sitting in my Jockeys and a t-shirt in front of my workstation. 

My reality is mainly virtual. That’s where I met Biff. She probably had an actual name. But we had corresponded so intimately in the nerd-herd-chat-rooms that we decided that we were best-friends-forever. Hence Biff.

I had no idea who she was, what she looked like, or where she lived. For all I knew, she might have been a 90-year-old Ukrainian babushka; or even a guy. People have no gender in cyberspace. And status isn’t determined by looks or money. You rise, or fall, by your intelligence. And Biff was the smartest person I have ever known.

We chatted for two continuous years. I’m talking about four or five hours a day of concentrated talking. You would never have so much sustained conversation with a real human. But it was easy schmoozing with Biff and her incredible mind.

Our discussions ranged everywhere. We would go from geo-politics, to why anybody ever considered a particular TV show funny.  She had a scope of intellect and an understanding of humankind that dwarfed my own and her perceptions were second to none. She was simultaneously humorous, insightful, sardonic and profound.

This is just me hazarding a guess. But during that time I felt like no two people had EVER been as close as Biff and I. She held nothing back. Neither did I. What would be the point when we were both faceless avatars in the anonymous jungle of the internet? We shared everything.

And if love is an absolute connection to another person’s soul than we were in love. Of course that eventually led to cybersex. Our cybernetic fucking was detailed, imaginative and very, very hot. But it also brought on the usual male insecurities. So I finally asked her whether sex with me was as good as the physical sex she was getting. You don’t need to remind me. I know I’m a weenie. Never claimed otherwise. What I got back was:

>” If I get fucked in a forest and nobody hears me moan is that wrong?”

> “What ARE you, Nietzsche’s wet-dream?”

>” Nope, I’m just a girl who loves sex and thinks that ALL men are self-centered pigs.”

>” I’m a man. Am I a self-centered pig?”

>” No!!! You’re the male abstraction. I’m the female abstraction. We are opposite sides of one virtual soul. I give myself to you absolutely because our pleasure is not constrained by our difference.”

That caused a major stiffie. I understood exactly what she was talking about.  We were a shared subconscious. The other person existed in our imaginations. So the pleasure we gave, we got. Or in simple terms we were fucking OURSELVES.

I couldn’t imagine an intellect so powerful that it could have figured THAT out. And then one-day Biff just disappeared.

She was always waiting in our private chat-space when I got my morning coffee. It was nothing more than a companionable way to wake up. We would chat about our day and any of the things that had happened since we last talked.

I knew that Biff was more sociable than me. Who wasn’t? And occasionally we missed evenings, especially if she stayed out late on a date. But she was always there every morning of every day for the past 700 straight days. Except that fateful day.

When I entered the room the curser just sat there blinking at me. I waited, staring at the thing. Hours passed and no Biff. I went from watching to restless pacing. I kept saying to myself, “Come on Biff, where are you?”

A lot of options went through my head. Maybe she got hit by a car, or mugged? Maybe she had a stroke, or a heart attack? But the dominant thought was, “Have I just been played?”

Biff’s disappearance brought a lot of things into perspective.  I went through every one of the five stages of grief.

Denial: I sat for almost 48 straight hours watching the curser blink. I kept telling myself that Biff would never do that to me.

Then Anger: I said to myself, “Fuck her! I don’t need the bitch!” I went out and bought a case of Jameson’s and spent the next week drunk on my ass. Occasionally I staggered over to the screen to look at that diabolical little prompt. Finally, I smashed the monitor with my last bottle of Irish.

Then Bargaining: I woke up lying on the floor covered in vomit and little pieces of plastic. I took my wasted body out to the local Best-Buy. I bought a top of the line system. I wanted all of that compute power I could get because I had made a deal with God and every proxy server that Biff had ever hopped through. I would find her and we would work this out.

In the end I was pretty sure that she lived in the continental U.S. but that was as far as I got. The girl was good. Depression: that led to two solid years of sadness, regret and anguish. It was unpleasant and scary. I was not used to feeling anything about anybody. The depression stage DID boost my business because working was the only way I could stay sane. During that painful period I was a code writing machine. My Zen was most excellent.

It took me an endless two and a half years to reach Acceptance. Of course I hadn’t moved on from Biff.  But at least I could function like normal. You don’t need to remind me. I know she was a virtual entity. And that I’m a geek. So “normal” is a pretty relative concept with me.

One of the oddest outcomes of those two years was that I had begun to cultivate a friend. He worked on the talent management side at the contracting house. He was an actual human being not a nerd. I think that they had told Julian to look after me because my behavior had gotten bizarre, even for me.

And Julian actually came to like, or perhaps the right term is “feel sorry for”, me. He would take me out for drinks every time I dropped things off there. He was a very affable guy. Of course you don’t succeed in sales if you’re an asshole. So the likeability factor was to be expected. He had just moved down to DC from New Haven. Where he had done the entire Yale MBA experience. So he wasn’t dumb.

Nonetheless, he was about as opposite me as you can get. I am early 30s very tall, skinny and best described as unkempt. He was five eleven, and a preppie’s preppy. Crisp blue oxford shirt and khakis. I have no social skills whatsoever. Julian could sell those fabled ice boxes to those proverbial Eskimos. Whenever we were out he would flirt outrageously with every female in the place. They all loved him. Those same girls didn’t even know I existed.

That was probably because I spent the entire time looking at my hands. I liked girls as much as he did. But inarticulate and painfully shy and self-conscious doesn’t come close to describing my savoir-faire. It was the day before Thanksgiving. I had brought in a new code module that was a little jewel. Julian was buying me the usual reward.  He said, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving Bill?”

I said that I was planning on microwaving two turkey TV dinners with all of the trimmings and sharing them with my old dog Buster. Then to be conversational I added, “What are you doing?” He said, “We’re new in town and the family is up north in Boston so it’s just Hannah and me. We would love to have you join us for Thanksgiving, you can bring Buster if you like.”

Normally I would rather be tied to a wild porcupine than have dinner at somebody’s house, especially on a holiday. But I got the sense that the guy actually wanted me to be there. So against my better judgment I said, “What time is dinner?” I had no idea what caused that sudden onset of sociability. But the situation with Biff had changed me and Julian was a decent fellow. Maybe I was actually growing a heart?

Thus, the following afternoon found me on the doorstep of their trendy McMansion in College Park. My unruly shock of brown hair was slicked back and I was wearing my only sport coat. I had even given Buster a bath. He wanted to know what he had done to deserve such abuse.

Buster is big, stupid and smelly and the best dog in the world. I got him from the pound years ago. He looks like the hound from hell. But he is as sweet tempered and loving as any dog can be. And he is as shy and unforthcoming as I am.  He’s mostly Labrador with a touch of some bigger and rangier dog, like an American Bulldog. There was also what might have been Shar-Pei since he has wrinkles. In fact, his skin fits him just as badly as my clothes fit me.

Julian was a study in “at home” fashion. He looked like Mr. Rogers from his plaid shirt and shawl collar sweater to his topsiders. He might as well have been smoking a pipe. I handed him the screw-off bottle of Chablis I had picked up at the drugstore.

I knew that Julian’s wife would skin us if Buster disgraced himself on their rug. So my first step was to navigate the old boy back to Julian’s spacious and well-tended back yard. My aim was to encourage him to do his daily constitutional. While Buster was attending to business, we chatted about Julian’s wife. That conversation took a while since Buster’s “business” also involved a lot of sniffing and rolling around in unspeakable things.

It had been a whirlwind courtship. Julian had picked her up three years ago at a Starbucks. He had only ducked in for a latte but when he saw her sitting there he HAD to make her acquaintance. He said it was love at first sight. One thing led to another and they finished the night in bed.  According to Julian she was an absolute animal in the sack. And yes girls; that is the first question most guys will ask the man in your life. It comes well before any questions about your literary interests, prowess as cooks or mothers.

Anyway, that remarkable first night led to more dates.  Six months later they were married. They had been married for a year and a half when Booz transferred him down to the Beltway.  Julian finished his story and Buster finished his business and we all three walked back into the house with our tails wagging.

As might be expected, Julian’s wife was smoking hot gorgeous, long blond hair on a five foot four frame. She was doing the full “Stepford” thing in the kitchen. She could have been a central-casting stereotype of the successful yuppie wife. Except for the fact that she added new meaning to the term “brick shithouse”. Even though that body was clad in a simple, domestic diva outfit, she still set off deep lustful urges in my lizard brain.

Big, high, round and proud didn’t come close to describing the wonder of her chest and the tiny waist and perfectly muscled hips and legs in her form fitting cashmere slacks only added to the goddess impression. I could see why a player like Julian had fallen head-over-heels for her.

When we arrived, she was bustling around the kitchen acting like Martha Stewart on meth. Julian introduced me to her. The direct gaze and the intelligence lurking behind those huge cat eyes almost made me take a step back. It was totally unexpected.

She had a low sultry voice that only added to the image of lightning in a bottle. I was a long way past tongue-tied. I took her proffered hand and began to closely study the tops of her shoes. If I had raised my eyes any higher I was afraid I would be turned to stone; at least in one part of my body. Intimidated doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings.

Buster was taking a disturbing amount of interest in what she had laid out on the table. That gave me an opportunity to bolt the room dragging him along. As I did I exchanged the classic guy look with Julian. He said with sympathy, “Yes I know. She is something isn’t she?” I gushed with all sincerity, “You two look perfect together.”

Dinner was probably normal for them. But it was sheer agony for me. Hannah was witty, and a great conversationalist. It was distressing to have somebody as beautiful as she was focus her entire attention on me. In fact, getting a committed loner like me to talk at ALL was an accomplishment. She got more information out of me than most people would get in a year.

When I DID occasionally raise my eyes off my plate I kept catching her expression. She was looking at me like I disturbed her. It was as if there was something about me that she couldn’t get her arms around and it was nagging at her. The more we talked the more curious she got about me. I was having the same kind of vibe but I had no idea why. It just seemed like I knew her. But the odds of me knowing a woman that stunningly attractive were both zero, and none.

We finished the evening over drinks. It was something exotic and expensive. I got the feeling that the Chablis that I had brought had gone directly into the trash. Hannah was sitting on a couch next to Julian, shoes off, with her fabulous legs curled under her and her hand resting possessively on his shoulder. She was the perfect loving wife.

I am not a talker. So I just sat there staring into space, my hand stroking Buster’s head. He was sitting up next to me with his muzzle resting on the arm of my chair. He was giving me his normal helping of dog-love, slobber-slobber-drool-drool, mostly all over their upholstery.

Mr. Affability tried a conversational gambit, just to get me to stop sitting there like an idiot, “You two have a lot in common. Hannah is a computer whiz too.” Just to be polite I idly said, “Oh, what are you interested in?” She lit up like a searchlight. Computers obviously turned her on. She said, “Everything! I do a lot of exploring in the deepweb and I even do some ethical hacking for Julian’s company.”

I said, just to sound a little less like I belonged on the short bus, “I do too, maybe we’ve met in the virtual world. What’s your handle?” All hackers go by their handles. In our little community our handle is as sacred to us as his hat is to a cowboy. It’s our persona and it is distinctive.

She said, “I call myself Persephone69, she was beautiful and also the goddess of the underworld.” She added with a flirty smile, “I’ll let you figure out what the last part means.”


Handles are distinctive. So the woman sitting across from me, hand draped lovingly across the back of her husband’s shoulder, was BIFF. No doubt.

One of the chief advantages of being a stone nerd is that your emotions are buried way down deep. That was the only thing that saved me. I was taking a sip of the liquor at the time, which brought on a coughing fit. It was the only way to cover up the reaction. I said, still choking, “Sorry, I am not used to drinking something this strong.” I was glad I had not sprayed my drink all over both of them.

Then I unceremoniously dashed to their little powder room. I needed to get my emotions under control. I was astounded to discover that I HAD emotions. And they were bottomless ones indeed. First, I threw up the dinner. All I could think of as I splashed water in my suddenly very grey face was, “I’ve gotta get out of here!” As I emerged, Buster was standing at the door. He looked concerned, “What’s wrong Boss?”

I said, knowing that they would overhear, “I’m not feeling very well old buddy. We have to hit the road.” I must have looked ghastly. So they were happy to hustle me and my canine pal out the door. Fear of an Ebola outbreak in your own house can do that to a host.

I drive a Range Rover. It’s my only indulgence. I like the luxury and the fact that it can go anywhere. Buster got obediently in the back, like he always does. He sat there looking worried; pant-pant-pant-pant-pant-drool on the leather seats. I couldn’t lie to Buster. He’s my loyal pal. I said, with real tears running down my cheek, “I’m in a real mess old buddy!”

I might be a nerd, and as unplugged from society as you could be without being an actual display at Madame Tussaud’s. But there were so many unresolved issues that I didn’t want to think about them. That was an understatement. Let me count the ways.

The wife of my only male friend is the single human being I have EVER loved. And I care so deeply about her that the detailed stories that Julian had told about her past feats of sexual athleticism were driving me into a jealous frenzy.

Then, to complicate the picture ever so much further, there is no way I could tell either of them what I knew. Biff and I had explored way too far down into each other’s souls to ever walk that back. Hannah would put out a hit on me if she thought that I knew who she really was.

And I probably wouldn’t get my ass any MORE kicked if I told Julian that I had actually fucked her in real-time. He would never understand a virtual love affair like we had. Then there was the matter of her attitude toward men. I didn’t know whether marriage had changed her but one of the last things I had found out about her was that she was slightly more dangerous to the males of the world than Lucrecia Borgia herself. So Buster and I went home and locked the door.

All of the next week I did what I do best. I hid-out from everybody. I wasn’t answering messages. I disabled my phone. I worked 20 hours a day on my next project and I thought about my situation. First and most obviously, I had to declare Biff irrevocably dead.  I had existed for the first 30 years of my life without human contact. As far as Biff was concerned – well, she was dead – right? So, I had nothing to worry about now, didn’t I? I really believed that.

I couldn’t bullshit myself. Of course I could reconnect with Biff. I knew who she actually was now. But that would be wrong. Biff/Hannah was married to a friend and I wasn’t even starting to go there. Only heartbreak and perdition lay at the end of that road. That’s right? It does doesn’t it??

I was certain that I knew more about Biff/Hannah than Julian did. Biff and I had interacted soul to soul for two years without any of the distractions of the physical universe. And husbands never pay that much attention to their wife anyway.

What puzzled me was why Biff/Hannah had decided to take on the guise of Julian Appleby’s loving wife. Julian clearly didn’t know that he was living with a very rare and in many respects daunting intelligence. And I knew Biff well enough to know that what I had seen on Thanksgiving was a total act. Biff simply wasn’t wired that way.

After thinking about it I concluded that she had contrived the entire marriage for some purpose of her own. But I was pretty sure that she had not shared that little nugget with her loving husband. I was not going to enlighten Julian about his wife. If I had done that it would end very badly. But it was extremely uncomfortable to be around the guy now, knowing what I did about Biff/Hannah.

I finished the project and brought it in as Christmas approached. I was trying to get out of the building before Julian found me. But they must have called him when I got there. He was waiting with the usual gregarious smile plastered on his face. He said, “Beer - buddy?” I thought, “Why not, how much worse could it get?”

I quickly found out. As soon as we got situated at the bar he regarded me with something approaching a serious look and said, “What did you do to Hannah? Since Thanksgiving she has been trying to fuck me to death.” Great! That was something that I positively DIDN’T need to know.

The picture of Julian and Hannah entwined in a sweaty heap of passion was very detrimental to my soul. And the detailed description of her sucking his cock to get him ready for the next round was making me throw up a little in the back of my mouth. But I am robot-man so instead I said, “Why in the world do you think I have anything to do with it? I wasn’t exactly at my best bolting out of there. You might as well blame Buster. He was there too.”

Julian said, “No dude, all she has done the past three weeks is try to find out about you. And the more I tell her the more she wants to fuck me. You are the one causing it, not that I’m complaining. Are you sure you aren’t some kind of long-lost brother separated at birth?”

I thought to myself, “Man, if you only knew?”

I said, “Your wife is the most smoking hot gorgeous woman I have ever met. She is so far out of my league I wouldn’t even be allowed to be a bat-boy on her team. I was certain that Julian believed THAT.

I said, “Whatever has gotten into her; ahem, so-to-speak, it isn’t me. But YOU should go down to St. Mary’s and light a few candles that you are the only stud in her life.” Julian got a weird look and said, “I hope so. Sometimes I wonder.”

I thought, “Oh Shit!” but I said, “What do you mean by that?” He said, “I have NEVER had the slightest reason to doubt that she is anything but a devoted wife.” I thought to myself, “If you knew her like I know her you wouldn’t put much stock in what you see.”

He added, “We are rarely apart, except when I go to work. And she has never given me less than her best when we are together. But there are occasional times when it feels like she isn’t really there.” My little voice was smug. It knew something he didn’t, “She has NEVER been completely there my friend.”

Then the guy drove a stake through my heart, “When she is in one of those moods it is like she is some kind of phantom spirit. I know that she spends too much time on the internet. I wonder if she is carrying on some sort of virtual affair with somebody out there?” THAT ratcheted my blood pressure up to cerebral embolism status, “She was fucking around on-line?”

I was suddenly the cliché of the spurned lover. Except it was a virtual betrayal. It wasn’t that Biff was getting intimate with another guy in the physical universe. She was fucking around like we used to do in the cybernetic one! I am so repressed that Julian never saw any of the raging battle that was going on inside my head. Instead I said as casually as I could, “I can find out if you want me to.”

He looked like Buster does when I get out his treats. He said, “What would you need?” I said simply, “Access to whatever computer she is using.” He said eagerly, “Come over tonight. She only uses the workstation in our den and her own laptop. But she keeps that in the den as well.”

I said, “Isn’t she going to be a tad suspicious if I just show up out of the blue and head straight for the den with my cracking tools?” Julian said, “Wait until we go to bed. You can sneak in then. I’ll leave everything unlocked and available.”

I said, “Is she a heavy a sleeper? Aren’t you afraid that she will hear something?” He said with hearty confidence, “If she does I’ll distract her. Just wait until about 11:30 tonight. I’ll turn off the outside light on the patio to signal that the coast is clear.”

I said, “This is a big favor dude. The last thing I need is for your wife to find me doing a black bag operation in your den. And if one of your neighbors sees me and calls the police I am going to rat both of us out.” Of course my motives were actually anything but pure and altruistic. I had the once in a lifetime chance to find out everything I needed to know about Biff/Hannah. And I was suffering from a lot more sheer jealousy than Julian could ever comprehend.

I know that sounds creepy. But I had to have closure. And I was going to get it tonight. I knew that Biff was smart but I am too. She had been dealing with Julian the past three years so I was hoping that her guard would be down.

I probably didn’t need to wear the black hoodie, gloves and camo face-paint as I lurked in Julian’s rose bushes that night. But I was being more adventurous than I had been in my entire repressed life and I wanted to dress the part. The outside light flicked off. I waited five more minutes and approached the patio doors. They were unlocked.

I quietly made my way toward their den. I flicked on one of those little headband LED lights that bikers wear. They must have gotten the idea from a mining helmet. I was also carrying a backpack with every kind of electronic gear I needed. As I opened the door to the den I was a study in ninja stealth. It squeaked noisily. I heard a whispered female voice from the nearby master bedroom. I thought, “Great! I’m not here two minutes and I’m busted!”

The voice sounded insistent. I was frozen in place. Then I heard a male voice. There was a little furtive discussion. Then I heard a fretful, “No, don’t! Stop it!! Go check first!!!” That was followed by the sound of very heavy and rapid breathing and a loud moan. Then she started muttering, “OhGod-OhGod-OhGod” over and over in a semi-dispassionate voice. It was like she was making a comment about religion, not firing up.

Then there was a loud, AHHHHH!!!” That was followed by the sound of thrashing. I thought, “Julian definitely knew what he was talking about when he said he could distract her.” Given my obsession with Biff/Hannah, the LAST thing I needed to hear were the increasingly louder sex noises coming from that room. But at least I could go about my clandestine business without worry of interruption. And I could keep track of the available time by the sounds of the fuck.

I booted both devices and found the reference monitor and system logs. They gave me a detailed second by second picture of what had gone on in each computer. I dumped all of the data. While I was doing that the noise in the other room had built to wall-banging proportions. The pounding, rhythmic sound of the bedsprings was almost hypnotic. She was crying out and gasping loudly with each thrust. She was also getting more and more vocal, in a very, unsettlingly explicit way.

I dumped the log files for both computers and began to mirror both hard-drives using my own homegrown compression algorithm. It captures the sectors that had something in them but had been marked “deleted”. It even picks up the contents of sectors that have been wiped but not degaussed. And it does it in much less time than any other application on the market.

Finally, I dumped her e-mail from every account including the hidden one that she had on TOR. She was very good. But my Kung-Fu is unbeatable. And I was a lot more motivated. The action inside the bedroom had gotten white-hot. I had to admire Julian’s stamina. He had been pounding her for 20 minutes. The wet slurping and slapping noises and her grunts and guttural moans were driving me nuts.

Then there were faster and even more intense effort noises. From the sounds she was getting wilder. Finally, she yelled, “OH SWEET JESUS! Fuck-Me-Fuck-Me-Fuck-Me!! Don’t-Stop-Don’t-Stop-Don’t stop-Oh YES! CUMMING! CUMMING!!! OHHHH YEAHHHH!!!!” That was my Biff in there orgasming her brains out.

Her wild finishing cries were tearing my heart out. Even though she had been nothing but an abstract entity all the time I had known her. The hard-drive mirroring process finished with a beep. I hastily closed up everything and put my cracking tools away. I could hear the murmuring of the afterglow in the other room.

Then I heard almost right next to me, “You filled me up Baby! I’ve got to go clean up.” Her voice was so close that I almost yelled in surprise. Shit!! I had to get out of there. The door of the bedroom opened. I was plastered against the wall next to it as she emerged. She was hurrying up the hall to their bathroom running in that odd hippy fashion that all naked women do.

I lingered for a look. Her body was exquisite. Her big full breasts had large brown nipples, still erect from her fucking. As she continued down the hall I admired her tight round apple shaped ass and those gorgeous long legs. The instant she closed the door of their bathroom I bolted for the patio.

I couldn’t believe how upset I was. It tore my heart out to learn what the woman in that bedroom was capable of. I wondered how Biff’s exceptionally well-honed and rational mind could give itself over to such out-of-control animal behavior. At the same time, I couldn’t believe how much what I had heard in there had turned me on.

I have had my share of one-night stands. And a few of them have gotten pretty hot. But I have never in my wildest dreams experienced the kind of fuck that Biff seemed to be capable of throwing - just on any given Tuesday. It was extraordinary.

If I had known how much it would hurt to listen to the only woman I had ever loved having sex, I would never have volunteered to do it in the first place. But the upside was that I NOW had all of the information I would need to make Biff/Hannah’s life an open book. Good old faithful Buster was waiting patiently for me in the Rover, “Hello Boss, pant-pant-pant-drool-drool-drool pooling on the seats.” I scratched his grey muzzle as he slobbered on my hand. I slung the backpack in the back of the vehicle and drove home.

It was too late to do anything constructive that night. But seven hours later, in the cold light of morning I was dumping last night’s ill-gotten gains. I have a collection of servers and monitors in my spare bedroom that would make the bridge of the Starship Enterprise look amateurish. And I buy expensive things off hacker websites that will let me crack anything from a cell phone to a Cray XK6.

My only real extravagance in life is the stuff that I have on-board my condo. Thanks to our virtual affair I felt like I knew more about Biff than anybody in the world including her husband. So I was sure that if she was up to something it would be tucked away on her laptop. Their desktop computer was too communal. She would put the stuff that she wanted us to find on that. And indeed, I quickly discovered that there was nothing suspicious there.

Her laptop was very high-end. And most of the things on it were password protected and encrypted, which raised some red flags. But then again, maybe she was just careful. The crack took almost 15 hours, which was a new record for the time to break into another person’s stuff. But I wouldn’t expect any less from my virtual lover.

The real problem was that, once I got in I learned NOTHING. Her SecureMail account, which I was sure would hide a smoking gun, was empty, no messages in or out. No history. Seriously!? That made no sense. Nobody sets up an anonymous e-mail account on the Onion Router and then doesn’t use it. A completely empty and apparently unused anonymous message platform just reeked of mischief. But that was the only dubious thing I could find. The fact was that after three days of intensive analysis I came up with a big blank.

I knew that Biff/Hannah spent a lot of money shopping on-line. But there was no proof that she was buying anything clandestine, or setting up love affairs. She did the obligatory social media stuff and corresponded frequently with close friends and relatives. But those were all plaintext messages about everyday life. They were a lot more boring than they were enlightening.

She visited some very naughty sites. And that was for extended periods of time. Of course! I knew about all of them. We had shared those together for days at a time. And they were all bookmarked on my own system. And, unfortunately for the well-being of my very soul. I had already had the opportunity to witness a far too graphic exhibition of her real-time sexuality.

She DID chat a lot in public rooms but never anything private. That was clear from the system logs. So I could only conclude that there was nothing going on with any on-line love affairs. I could not begin to convey how relieved that made me feel.

In fact, I was astonished to see how normal and apparently average Biff’s life was. I knew from personal experience that she has a superb and voracious mind. But there wasn’t more than a hint of her exceptional intelligence in her conversations with others.

The girl was either very good, or she was as wholesome and ordinary as her user-profile made her out to be. Knowing Biff, I was prepared to go with what was behind door number one. But I had no evidence to support that conclusion. For all I knew, she might really be the loving yuppie wife she was depicting.

My explorations did convince me of one thing. Over the past weeks I had wondered if it was just an unfortunate coincidence that Julian’s hot wife had happened to adopt the same handle as Biff. The three days I spent wading around in her computer history DID manage to convince me that I WAS dealing with my virtual lover.

Biff might be pretending to be a housewife for her own reasons. But the mind that was occasionally revealed in her correspondence and on-line activities was clearly my girl. It was like seeing the occasional flash of a stalking Bengal Tiger in the surrounding jungle. I picked up the phone and called Julian. I said, “How about a beer old buddy and we can talk?”

He said, with more emotion than I had expected, “Thank God!” I said, “What’s the matter? Problems?” He said apprehensively, “I’ll tell you when I get there.”

Two hours later I was sitting in our usual booth with a pitcher in front of me. Julian walked in as dapper and handsome as ever. He saw me and rushed over to plop down opposite. He looked distressed.  I poured him a mug. Beer will soothe all manner of distress. 

 I said, “Do you want to talk first or shall I?” He said nervously, “Tell me what you found out.”

I said, “I just spent the past 72 hours living on Skittles and Mountain Dew digging into your wife’s life. So, I can say with absolute confidence that there is nothing suspicious on either computer.” I was not going to mention the TOR account because I had nothing substantive to say about it.

I smiled and added, “And thank you very much for the live sex-show. Given my unfortunate state of externally enforced celibacy that was a little hard to take.” He grinned back at me and said, “She IS the hottest piece of ass on the planet isn’t she?” I gave him a “no shit” look back. It was a tender guy moment. I said, “So what’s the problem buddy?” The obligatory guy-banter was beginning to get a little tiresome.

He said, “She keeps a diary.” I looked at him inquiringly, “Really!?? You mean like paper and pencil? How delightfully primordial.” He said, “I have been getting a vibe that she is thinking about somebody else. I don’t believe she has acted on anything yet. But in the past she has always been all-there for me.  So much so, that I can tell when she is distracted.

“And something has come between us now. So I went hunting for evidence and I found an old diary in the stuff she kept when we moved in together.” My ears perked up. Now, that was moderately interesting! I said, “Do you have it?”

He produced a small, cheap, leather bound book that looked like he had gotten it directly out of the prop closet for the Brady Bunch. It was kind of quaint and cute in a little girl way. It even had that miniature lock on it that all pre-teen diaries have.

To say the least, the concept of a woman with Biff’s killer body and sexuality ever being a sweet little girl was a bit disquieting. I took it and opened it. It was almost full. There were entries for several years, ending about the time the two of them got married. It was in the neat, precise handwriting of an elementary school teacher. I said curiously, “What did she do before she married you?” He said, “She taught third grade”. D ’oh?!!!

I said, “What has you so bothered? This was all before she met you?” He said, “I read the whole thing. She had a man in her life back then who she claims she loved so much that she had to break it off with him.” I said, “That’s crazy. Why would she break up with somebody she supposedly loved?”

He said, “It was too all-consuming for her. She felt like she was lost in the way she felt about him. I think he was married because there are a number of references that indicate she could never be with him. The whole relationship got so painful that she couldn’t stand it any longer. So she ended it.”

Pangs of jealousy were bouncing around in my head like a ball of silly putty. She was having a red-hot affair with a married man while we were conducting our own little electronic romance. I was about as devastated as I could be at that revelation. I was fighting hard to keep my nerd cool. I said, “And I repeat, why should you care about a crush she had before she met you? Didn’t you have a few hotties you couldn’t live without back when you were younger?”

I might be the only male exception to what I had just said. Excluding Biff of course. But she was virtual. The irony wasn’t lost on me. He said, “You haven’t read it. If you saw how she felt about this guy you would not want to even THINK about what might happen if he ever resurfaced.”

I “got” that line of reasoning. That was because I was feeling exactly the same way he was. Both of us were seriously threatened by Biff’s mystery lover since, according to Julian, he was the absolute true love of her life. I normally make it a point to stay out of everybody else’s business but Biff had made me vulnerable in that one place. So I said, “What can I do to help?”

Noble self-sacrifice was not what was behind that offer. Fortunately, Julian was flirting with one of the women at the table next to us. If he had been looking directly at ME, he would have seen an uncharacteristic flash of blinding rage in my eyes.

I had lived for two years secure in the thought that Biff and I had something special going on – something that she never shared with anybody else. Now I found that I was getting the cyber equivalent of sloppy seconds. It was hard to blame Biff. I was a virtual-abstraction and her married lover was the real thing. But there was something stirring at the base of my lizard brain that wanted to find this guy and kill him. And maybe toss in Biff’s body as a side dish.

What the fuck was the matter with me!!!  I was acting like a normal man and I hated it.  Julian fixed me with a stare like I was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. He said with eyes misting over, “I can never repay your loyalty my friend. Hannah is everything to me.” He must have meant every word of that because real men don’t cry.

I had my usual ambiguous reaction to that. Pointless, I admit. But difficult to deny. Hannah was Julian’s woman. Julian was a good guy and he loved his wife. He and Hannah were perfect together. They had a beautiful marriage and I would be the last man in the world to want to horn in on that.

But Biff was my special lover, my karmic other half. I had known her longer and far more intimately than Julian would ever even be capable of. And it killed me to think that Biff wasn’t mine. What I wanted her to do was spend the rest of my life with me in the realm where we both belonged.

I knew that I could endure being near Hannah. That is - As long as I didn’t have to witness any more of her off the hook sexual exploits. Hannah’s beauty was way beyond anything my poor nerd charm could justify. And the first lesson you learn in high school is that the pretty girls don’t EVER end up with people like you.

But I could never get the desire out of my head to possess Biff’s bright soul. That was an extremely unhip, middle-class outlook. But I felt it nonetheless. So, I was willing to go “all-in” to help ensure that the only woman – belay that! The only human being – who I have ever loved or wanted in my life, could remain attached to the guy who was sitting in front of me looking so eager.

I owed the man nothing. But tragically, I could see that helping him was the right thing to do. So, I poured Julian a fresh mug, ordered another pitcher and said, “Do we need a plan, or do you already have something worked out?” He said, “I want you to talk to her about her past, before she met me. You can do that as an interested stranger. If I do it she is going to think something funny is going on. Try to find out who this fellow is and how much of a threat he is to my marriage. Can you do that for me?”

I said, “Sure, but I have only met her once and that was remarkable in the “wrong” sort of way. So, I can’t just walk into your house gaze deeply into her eyes and ask her to spill the beans. That might put her a little bit on guard.” Julian laughed and said, “No problem, Booz is having its annual Christmas party this Saturday and since you are one of our contractors it would make perfect sense that you attend as my guest.

Then we can liquor her up and you can interrogate her in some dark corner.” He added the last part with a conspiratorial wink. I don’t think he caught my look of horror. At least I hope not. I knew that he was just doing the age-old guy thing --- “boys versus the broads”. But I barely trusted myself around Hannah. And the last thing I wanted to do was be alone in a dark corner with a drunk on her ass Biff.

Nonetheless, I sucked it up and gave him the obligatory, “Yeah – Heh! Heh! Heh!” and rubbed my hands together like a good co-conspirator should. If he had been paying attention he would have seen how forced that response was. Instead, he looked at me dewy eyed and said, “Thanks Man! Really THANKS!” I hoped that I looked more sympathetic than I actually felt and I definitely didn’t deserve the man-hug that I got.

So there I was a week and a half later standing by myself in the main ballroom of the Sheraton Premier at Tysons. I would have been more comfortable with blazing bamboo shoots under my fingernails. I was wearing an actual tux. I had to rent it for the occasion. I had never worn one in my life but the event was formal and I would have stood out like Buster at an AKC dog show in my usual outfit. Bond – James Bond - I definitely was not.  

It was Biff’s almost planetary gravity that was pulling me into this situation. My lifelong policy is to never get involved in anything, especially anything emotional. It was the revelation of her OTHER lover that put me there. Along with the impact of how seriously her deep love for the guy had trashed the few things that I have ever held sacred. I had to be honest with myself. It was Biff’s betrayal of ME that had gotten me to go along with Julian’s stupid plot.

I just wanted to know WHY she did it. I had to understand why she had left the impression that we were as connected as we were. And at the same time betrayed that connection by falling so hopelessly in love with a stranger. It just made no sense. I smiled with bitter irony. I deserved the torment that I was enduring for the stupid mistake of joining the human race.

Hannah and her Prince Charming made the predictable arrival. Julian is almost the ideal size and build to be a male model. And his Irish good looks are the sort of thing that has kept Hollywood in leading men for the past 80 years. His grace, charm and natural insouciance are something you are born with. And unlike me he looked like he was birthed in a tux. Tall, skinny unkempt members of the pack just naturally defer to alpha-males like Julian.

Only a woman with Biff’s striking beauty could eclipse a man like him. But outshine him she did. Her thick silky blond hair was a sheaf of golden beauty. She is not tall but she is the ideal height to fit with her man. She has the face of an English Rose, perfectly proportioned features, huge wide-set china blue eyes, a neat little pointed chin, stunning cheekbones and a wide sensuous mouth.

She had gone all-out with the makeup and her customarily striking features were enhanced to a point where you wanted to just light a little candle in tribute.  I have already mentioned that she is built like a bag-full-of-bobcats. But in her demure cashmere “little black dress” she seemed to radiate an extra amount of sheer feminine power, both physical and sexual.

Not a single male in the room could take their eyes off her as she glided sensuously along toward our table on her 4 inch FMPs. She was a study in womanly confidence. She KNEW every man in the room desired her and it showed in how she walked and held herself. They were a golden couple.

Julian had arranged for me to sit with them. So I was heading toward their table from the other direction. Their progress through the ballroom had everyone else looking their way. I could have arrived naked carrying an AK-47 and nobody would have noticed me. We got to the table more-or-less simultaneously. Hannah looked delighted to see me. Of course the instant I caught her eye I began to carefully study the floor between us.

Nonetheless, before I turned away I had seen something odd in her look. She was VERY happy to see me and that fact continued to perplex her. Women like Hannah do not notice the riff-raff. Nor do they EVER have stray feelings when confronted by a member of that rabble. I mumbled something suave like, “Thank you for inviting me for Thanksgiving. I threw up for a couple of days after that.”

Damn! I am such a weirdo!!! Hannah look dumbfounded. Julian laughed uproariously and said, “A guy that suave, no wonder all of the women can’t keep their hands off of him.” This all said with dripping sarcasm. Hannah giggled and added with her own heavy irony, “I’m glad you enjoyed my cooking.”

I must have been several shades of chartreuse at that point, but the ice was broken. Julian said by way of explanation, “Bill is one of Booz’s super-stars and our management wanted him to come celebrate the end of another very profitable year. I drew the short straw so he is sitting with us.” His voice was fond and I am used to being the butt of other people’s jokes.

We sat, ate, drank and talked. Julian was pouring alcohol into Hannah like he was watering an elephant. I had to admit that Hannah was tough. She had absorbed Julian’s best shot and was still upright. Of course half of the male population had sidled over to ask her to dance and she HAD spent a lot of time away from the table.

Every time she left Julian would look at me with boyish eagerness and say, “How are we doing? I think she’s loosening up?” Even a socially retarded fellow like I am thought that was a little over the top. But a woman like Hannah makes any guy stupid. Hannah was definitely looking more and more hammered as the night wore on. The last time she left the table she was more-or-less draped on the fellow who had asked her to dance.

When they returned Julian said with studied casualness, “I am going to have to spend some serious time with our VP now. Can you make sure that Hannah gets home?” I saluted him with my glass of soda water and he sauntered off looking uber-cool.

I was moved by his trust in me. He had made certain that his stunningly gorgeous wife was totally wasted. No guy in his right mind would do that unless he completely trusted the person he had just handed her over to. Of course the other option was that he had no respect for my abilities as a man. It was clearly time to “cue the nerd”.

I turned to Hannah and said, “Would you like to go home. I can’t hear myself think let alone talk and it’s giving me a headache?” She looked eager, bleary eyed - but eager. She said, “I’d love to get out of here. I hate these kind of events but Julian has to attend them for his work. And I have to support him.” She grabbed her purse and stood up. Everybody near us watched her stand, turn and begin to glide toward the lobby with me in tow.

As I passed along I heard the occasional, “Who the fuck is that?” That was an understandable reaction. Julian and Hannah looked like they belonged together and as they said, “Who the fuck am I?” The valet fetched the car. She got in and I navigated out onto the Beltway headed toward College Park. Brubeck was playing on Rover’s excellent Bose system. It was, “Blue Ronda ala Turk”. Paul Desmond’s mournful sax matched my mood perfectly.

Hannah was sitting in the passenger seat looking pensive. The faint scent of her perfume was stirring every hormone I own. We had not exchanged a word since we left the table. I was tongue tied. No surprise there.  But I knew what the mission was. It was to find out about Hannah’s mystery lover. That was for both Julian’s and my sake. She made the first move. It was dark and quiet on the Beltway at that hour. And the Rover is so well built and sound insulated that you could literally hear the dashboard clock ticking.

Hannah turned in her seat and just looked at me. It was like she was trying to recall an indefinable memory. I had assumed that she was more-or-less out of her mind drunk and that she was struggling to figure out who I was and why she was there. I turned my head and looked at her and the woman I knew as Biff was looking back at me. The intelligence was so profound and the gaze so penetrating that I very nearly wrecked the car in surprise.

She was about as drunk as I was.  And I had been drinking soda water all night. It was all an act. Whether she had been pouring Julian’s drinks into the potted plants. Or whether she was just THAT strong minded, which was equally likely, she was absolutely and totally in control and she was a little pissed. She said, “Why are we REALLY here Bill. What are you and Julian up to?” The little voice in my head threw up its hands in surrender and said, “So much for subtle and covert.”

Caginess is not in my skillset and I am the opposite of cool. I gulped noisily, so loudly that I am sure she heard me. And I am certain that my face advertised my guilt. I said, “You’re right. We are up to something. But it isn’t what you think.” I wasn’t sure what she thought. But whatever it was, especially if it involved her and me and sweaty passion, she was dead wrong.

I said, “This is a little touchy so could we please get to your place before I explain it. I don’t think you will mind what I have to say. But you will have some questions. Basically Julian is trying to save your marriage.” She looked poleaxed. She turned and went back to silently gazing out the window. Now she was REALLY pissed.

I live in a world of uncomfortable silence so the rest of the trip was no problem for me. We got in the front door of her place and she offered me a drink. I said, “Scotch if you have it.” A little Dutch courage seemed in order here. She said, “I am going to give you a whole lot of Julian’s precious Johnny Walker Blue - just to get even with him for this.” I was thinking, at $500 a bottle that was some payback.

She came back into the room with two cut-crystal, double Old-Fashioned glasses, three fingers in each. She flicked on the gas fire in their big fireplace. I was sitting in the leather wingchair. It was the same one that I was in when I had discovered who she really was. She had managed to erase any evidence of Buster from the arm. She sat demurely opposite me on their expensive couch, sitting up straight, knees together, fondling the glass she was holding. The fire lit her beautiful face in soft shadows.

Her eyes were so overpoweringly deep and intelligent that they might as well have been black holes. She was going to interrogate me now. And I was a helpless little lamb in the face of her will. She said with some anger in her voice, “Now tell me what you two little boys are up to and what does it have to do with my marriage?” Then she leaned back in the cushions and took a sip. She expected an answer.

ALLRIGHT THEN! Into the breach. I said, “I am here strictly as Julian’s friend, and yours too. He has been concerned that you are pulling away from him. That somebody else is influencing your lives together.” She looked startled. It was almost like she didn’t give Julian enough credit to have known that.

I continued with, “He loves you to distraction and the thought of you possibly having somebody else in your life made him hunt around for anything that would give him a hint about what might be affecting you.” Of course I saw no reason to mention my own little escapade in their den. She looked appalled.

She said, “And what evidence did he find? Think closely about your answer because I am seriously considering killing both of you.” The focus of that immense intelligence was almost like a physical weight. I chuckled, she WAS joking – right?

I said, “He found the diary that you kept before you met him. I know that digging up an old diary sounds a little hackneyed and more than somewhat strange but he is aware of the affair that you had with the man who you knew before you met him. And he is threatened by how deeply you felt about that fellow. Is this guy still in your life? Is that the problem? Is he the reason why you have been distracted?”

For just a fraction of a second she looked like I had caught her off balance. And she was clearly, visibly upset. She squawked, “He has been going through my diary?” She said that in a tone of voice that was close to the outrage of a classic TV show 13-year-old, who had just discovered that her mother was reading her personal stuff.

Okay – the cat was well and truly out of the bag now!!! I thought to myself, “I could have handled that more subtly.” My total lack of tact even impressed me. But what did Julian expect sending me on this mission? I am a nerd and everybody knows that nerds have no social skills. In fact, I was suddenly very pissed at Julian too.

Why would he put an idiot like me into a situation with a demi-goddess like Hannah? He’ll probably come home tonight and find me staked out in the front lawn over an ant-hill. And I deserved it for being so clumsy and geeky. My poor attempt at mediation had clearly awakened the towering intellect that was Biff. She made a visible effort to calm herself. She said, “Okay, what do you two idiots want to know?”

I was now in full groveling mode. I had managed to make my friend sound like a fool and I had utterly destroyed any personal bridges with his wife. I said as placating as I could, “All he wants to know is if that man is still in your life. If he is affecting your marriage in any way, and if so, what he can do about it? I know that makes him seem as peculiar as it makes me sound, but I am just trying in my own graceless way to be your friend.”

She looked at me almost sympathetically. She said, “The man you are afraid of can never affect Julian and my marriage because he doesn’t exist. Now it was MY turn to look stupefied. She continued with, “You look at me and you just assume that I am a brainless twit. That is the price that all beautiful women pay in a man’s world. But in fact, I am very smart and before I met Julian I kept a totally separate persona in cyberspace.”

I knew that. That was the Biff identity. She said pensively, “It is like there are two Hannah’s. One is what you see, the debutant socialite with the gorgeous husband. And the other is the real me. The one who exists in the faceless sexless world of the internet. When I am in cyberspace I can be who I actually am. I can interact with people and they interact with me in the purest sense, based on ideas and our values and ethics, not our looks.”

She added ruefully, “I have always had my mind. I know that I have a remarkably superior intelligence. I’ve always known that. It isn’t a matter of ego. It is just who I am. But since puberty it has been at constant war with my appearance. There has never been a person who has given me the credit for my genius IQ.  That includes Julian. All they do is look at this body and tell me I am beautiful. It made me feel like I was being smothered.”

Then she added with a lot of anger, “Even worse, every man I have ever known has spent his spare time trying to get into my pants. As a result, I came to believe that all men were pigs.” That matched what Biff had told me about herself. I wondered how Julian was different.

She said sadly, “Several years ago I met a man – at least I think he was a man – in a chat room and that changed me. We talked for hours every day. We shared everything, every idea, every value, and every simple little moment together. He was like the missing half of me. And he freed me totally.”

She turned wistful and added, “Love is such a weak and trivial word. I was totally consumed by him. I spent my entire waking life thinking about him and eventually I began wanting him in a physical way. Women are different from men in that respect. When you give yourself to somebody, as I did to this man, you want to give EVERYTHING to him, not just your virtual self.”

She chuckled and said, “It might seem like hypocrisy. Since my chief complaint about men is that all they ever want to do is fuck me. But the only thing I could think about, waking and sleeping, was having my virtual lover inside me.”

Then she turned serious, “I am much more skillful with a computer than you probably think I am. And I hunted him in cyberspace. It didn’t matter who he was, where he lived, or even what he did. I had to make that final connection with him. I had to be with him physically and never leave.”

Her look turned sad as she said, “Long-story-short I never found him. For people who are good enough, the internet is anonymous. And he was just too good. Even though we still had our virtual connection I couldn’t have him physically and I could not live without the entire package. It’s a woman thing. You wouldn’t understand it.”

She added, “It was like he had died. I spent days just crying. Sometimes I was even weeping in agony over the separation while we were online talking together. Finally, I decided that our relationship was going to kill me if I didn’t end it. It was just too heart wrenching. So I simply walked away. I stopped communicating with him.”

THERE IT WAS! Now I knew EVERYTHING. It uplifted me and shattered my soul. She said self-effacingly, “I ran into Julian that very week. He is as opposite my mystery lover as anybody can be. He was like a sunny day, simple, and undemanding and he clearly loved me. He was yummy and he rocked my world in bed. He is funny, smart and successful and if I couldn’t have the man I loved I decided that Julian was an acceptable alternate.”

She said determinedly, “It might have been a rebound and I might have settled for him. But in the three years since we have been married I have come to love him in my own way and we have had a happy life together. But then suddenly and for some inexplicable reason I have begun to have recurring thoughts about the real love of my life. I don’t know why. It almost seems like you caused those when I met you on Thanksgiving Day.

She said with conviction, “Kaizen81 is the only man I have ever truly given myself to. That is what Julian is sensing. But Julian has nothing to fear since Kaizen81 has always been an electronic ghost. And please don’t tell Julian about any of this. My admitting a deep and abiding love for a virtual man is going to make him think that his wife is an out-and-out weirdo.” 

She looked at me imploringly. All anger at our little stunt was wiped away as she said, “Please make sure that Julian understands that Kaizen81 will never come between Julian and me. That man never existed except in virtual space and my imagination.” Then she abruptly lost control.

I just sat there gazing emptily into space. That was because my mind had blown up like the Death Star sometime around the point where she began to describe our last days together. As usual I had it all wrong. She was not carrying on a flaming affair with some unattainable married man. She was carrying on an IMPOSSIBLE one with a virtual man, namely ME. I am Kaizen81. Her anguish and eventual resolution of her problem made perfect sense. It was classic Biff.

Although I had never wanted to get with her physical self. I could see where a passionate woman like Hannah would want the whole enchilada. As she said, THAT was a woman thing. But nonetheless, the fact was that all of the time that I had known her I had longed to totally join myself with Biff. She was the other part of my soul. And my inability to do that had been as emotionally difficult and actually painful as anything I had ever experienced.

It is just that guys like me don’t expect much. The present situation was so complex that I had no right to feel as overjoyed as I did, “She loved ME and only me.” Of course there was the not insignificant problem that she was married to my best friend and I am sure that a lot of the romantic mystery would evaporate if she found out who Kaizen81 actually was. I was sure that the stark reality of William Schmidt in the flesh would offset any of my virtual awesomeness.

Meantime, she was crying, shaking and sobbing on the couch. Making her revisit her feelings for Kaizen81 had brought all of her long repressed grief to the surface. And it was substantial. I am an emotionally stunted loser. But I am not totally hard-hearted. The woman in front of me was the one person I had ever loved in my life and she needed comforting. I rose from my chair and sat down next to her. I have no idea how to comfort a crying woman. So I awkwardly patted her shoulder.

She looked up for a second and then just threw herself on my chest and cried against it, arms around my body, hugging me like I was a life preserver. I was uncomfortably aware of those extraordinary tits pressing against my bony ribcage. I continued to pat her on the back and make soothing noises. I didn’t know what to say. I held her for an interminable amount of time. It was upsetting and uncomfortable to be forced to deal with all of the ambient emotion, both hers and unfortunately mine. But she felt so good in my arms.

I had an inspiration. Be upbeat! I said comfortingly, “I’m sorry Biff. I never meant to upset you. Julian will be home soon and he can reassure you...” OHHHHHH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!! She cried for another couple of seconds and then she stiffened and was totally still. It was an ecstasy of hesitation.

She put both of her hands on my chest and forcefully shoved herself upright. Her mascara had run down those magnificent cheekbones but those powerful eyes were burning. She said, “What did you just call me??!!” I said in a panic, “Nothing, I said don’t be miffed.”

She said with steel in her voice, “Nobody has used that word since the 1970s. Did you just call me BIFF?’ Trapped like a rat!!! I decided to be a man for the first time in my miserable life. I looked into those beautiful compelling blue eyes, so touchingly full of sudden hope, and I said as gently and as lovingly as I could, “Yes, Biff it’s me.”

THAT sucked the air out of the room. Her face was frozen. Time stopped. If you were expecting a tear-filled, passionate reunion you don’t know Biff. Her face went from grief, to amazement, to all-consuming rage. She said, her voice shaking with anger, “Why didn’t you tell me. You knew who I was on Thanksgiving didn’t you? That’s why you acted so strangely.”

I said, “Yes, the revelation that you were Persephone69 nearly killed me. I spent the past three years torturing myself because you left me. The last thing I expected was to run into you here in real-space. And you were in such an unattainable package.”

She looked disgusted. Then she said with real fury and contempt in her voice, “I thought we were a little more in tune with each other than that? You now damn well that how we look doesn’t matter. You KNOW that!”

I continued. “In cyberspace yes, but this is the real world where you are married to my only friend and living happily ever after here in suburbia as his loving wife. The guy worships the ground that you walk on and you obviously love him. Those are facts we can’t change.”

I pushed myself off the couch and returned to sitting pensively in my chair. She was sitting straight up on the couch glowering at me. I said, hopelessness in my voice, “You are the only person I have ever loved in my entire miserable life. And you are the only person I ever wanted in it. But there is no way I will ever come between the two of you. It would be the ruination of both of our souls. You know as well as I do it wouldn’t be right”

For the first time in our relationship she and I were together in one room. She gave me a look that nearly melted my sox. It was a combination of complete loving trust and absolute spiritual mutuality and raw animal lust. She said quietly, “We’ll work it out.”

At that instant the sound of the garage door broke our reverie. Julian was home. The look of pain that shot across her face was eloquent. She rose and smoothed her dress. Without a word she walked into the same bathroom that I had seen her naked form disappear into the month before. I could hear the water running.

Julian crept into the room from the direction of the garage. He was almost chortling with boyish devilry. He saw me sitting by myself and walked over all conspiratorial. I actually felt sorry for him. He had no idea. Not a single clue. He said gleefully, “Well? Did you get it out of her? What’s the story? I knew this would work he-he-he.”

I tried to look at him as honestly as I could muster. I said, “She’s in the bathroom so this has to be quick. The person you are worried about is no threat. He was somebody she had a relationship with in the past. He could never threaten your marriage now because he is dead. She accepts that but she thinks about it once in a while.”

The look of sheer utter relief that passed over his face shattered my very core.  But of course I am a nowhere man so it didn’t show. Hannah walked out of their bathroom looking fresh, perfect and without a shred of emotion on her face except delight that her husband was home. She was back to being Julian’s irreproachably beautiful wife.

She kissed him on the cheek and said, “How was the rest of the party? It turns out that Bill actually knows real adult words. We had a nice conversation. I learned a lot about him.” She said that without the slightest hint of insincerity, or sarcasm. I said, grabbing my coat, “Well I have to go. Thank you for inviting me tonight. I had an interesting time.”

They were standing in the door as I got in the car. Julian with his arm around her waist pulling her close. She was leaning into him as they waved. I knew that they were just in the bullpen warming up for their normal night of jungle sex. And I was far too aware that the kickoff would happen as soon as I got out of the driveway.

The following day was difficult. All I could think about was Julian and Hannah enthusiastically trying out various positions. I worked a little bit but my heart wasn’t in it. I was trying hard to put Biff in my past. She was Julian Appleby’s wife and that was where she had to stay.


 Maybe I’m just lazy, or “deep and damaged”. Or maybe I’m just a flaming nerd. But for as long as I can remember my only aim in life has been to keep as far away from the human race as possible. I work at home. My co-worker and best friend is canine. He might slobber and he’s smelly. But he doesn’t play games, or back- stab. And he is always unconditionally there for me.

My world was perfect until SHE appeared in the Garden. The god who loves messing with me didn’t even need a rib. The fucker just dropped her in via the internet. I called her Biff. Biff and I lived together in cyberspace. I came to worship the beauty and perfection of her mind, and the deep humanity of her soul. We were two virtual entities with one beating heart.

And then one-day Biff just evaporated into the aether, ripping my heart out as she left. Three years later she reappeared in real-space. And because karma is a genuinely heartless bitch, she was gorgeous.

Of course she was! No dangling a flat chested nerd-girl with glasses and a painfully sincere smile in front of this poor sucker. That would have made it far too easy. What I got was a totally unapproachable demi-goddess. Did I mention that the fates spend their spare time laugh their ass off at me?

And to add ever so much more agony to the cosmic joke, Biff was ALSO happily married to the only male semi-friend I have ever had. To be honest, I think I was actually the dude’s work assignment. I am a valuable asset to anybody who employs me. But what I call “normal”, is what most people would call “bizarre”. So, he seemed to be in charge of riding herd on me.

He could get any woman he wanted. But he was insanely jealous and possessive of his wife. I didn’t blame him since she was a one in a million trophy. The problem was that the poor fucker had no clue what he had actually married. He saw hot, check! Beautiful, check! Socially accomplished, check! Loving, check! What he didn’t see was Hannah’s rare and exceptional intelligence.

Fate likes to cast me in the role of stooge. So the day I met Hannah I discovered that she was also my Biff. How else could the merciless sons-of-a-bitches up there get their kicks? I knew everything about Hannah because we had been sublimely joined in cyberspace. So I had a much better idea of what made her tick.

And, for a couple of months I played Cyrano de Bergerac to Julian’s Christiane. I really tried my best. My love for Biff was a love that I knew would never happen. Honestly!! I knew that. So what was the point in my NOT helping them?

Then, Julian insisted that I talk to Hannah about a dark presence that he sensed coming between him and his wife. Who, with no lack of celestial irony, turned out to be me. So I did what I always do when things get intense, I ran home and locked the door.

I woke up the next day praying that I would never see either of them again. Seriously! I hoped that she would just let me get back to my simple nerd existence. Of course the god who likes to watch me twist in the wind couldn’t let THAT happen.

The email came in off the darkweb while I was having my morning bowl of Captain Crunch. It was anonymized. It said, “We have to talk – love –Biff.” I dropped the bowl. I would have rather found a thoroughly pissed off Rattlesnake in my in-box.

I walked around the thing for a couple of hours, looking at it like it actually had rattles. Finally, I took a deep breath and sat down to compose my reply. I said, “What’s the point Biff? What are we going to learn if we talk?

I added, “I know that conventional rules don’t apply to virtual relationships. But do you seriously believe that you could sit Julian down, explain our situation and NOT have the guy go all psycho jealous husband on you? Because I don’t!”

She must have been sitting next to her computer. The reply came back immediately, “He doesn’t own me and what we have doesn’t threaten him in any aspect of our married life. This is not an ethical issue because you and I are not falling in love over the internet. We have already gone as far down THAT road as two people can possibly go.  

Then she dropped the axe on my resolve. She wrote, “Can you deny that you love me with all of your soul? Because I love you with mine.” I shot back, “REALLY???!!! You have to ask THAT? You know that you are the other half of me. I don’t think you can even describe it as love, except as we love ourselves. That’s why this doesn’t seem right. IF we correspond like we did before I don’t think that your husband would see that as anything but a betrayal on your part.”

If you can read anger in an email message, her reply was smoking, “I am a little disappointed in you. The damage is done. Our situation won’t change. That is the reality. Are you going to be able to forget what we had together if we stop talking again?”

Women! The practical sex. I fired back, “Seriously?? Seriously??!! I have nobody in my life but you. Your statue is sitting all by itself in the little shrine that I built in my heart. It will leave that place when that organ stops beating!!!”

She came back with, “And I have not lost an iota of the connection that I feel with you. We still share a passionate love outside the bounds of holy matrimony. Even if it all took place in virtual space and before I met Julian. You know the part about forsaking all others? If my husband knew how much I loved you, he would bury me in the back yard.

She continued with, “The appropriate question is, how could he be hurt, except in his monstrous ego? Are you planning on fucking me? That would fit the definition of cheating, not chatting with me about the concept of intelligent design.”

I sent back a smiley face and added, “You are so far beyond me in real-space that the concept of fucking you is as unimaginable as string theory. Julian thinks so much of my chances that he spent all last night trying to get you helplessly drunk so that I could take you off alone into a dark corner. Would he leave his totally wasted wife in that hands of any of his stud friends? I think not!!!”

She said somewhat wistfully, “All you would have to do is ask you know. My body aches for you. Remember, the impossibility of having you was the reason why I ended it. Nonetheless, the question remains, who would be hurt if we got the band back together. And more importantly why would that be wrong?

She added, “What would be the safe ethical boundaries if we do? I imagine that all discussions about Julian and my sex life are out.” She had no idea how much I DIDN’T want to hear about her sexuality. Unfortunately, I had witnessed it and even thinking about how hot she is still sends me into a jealous frenzy.

She finished with, “What else would have to happen to fit within your moral frame?” The woman was a genius. Of course I already knew that. The minute I started arguing with her I had stepped onto her slippery slope. Now I was rocketing down it like I was on a bobsled.

I knew in my practical mind that ninety-nine point nine percent of our discussions could be carried out in the Public Library without offending anybody’s sensibilities. Julian should not be morally outrage over two people of the same intellectual caliber engaging in the kind of rational debate that Biff and I normally undertook.

In that respect then, Julian was treading on her and my right to simple human interaction by not understanding what we were doing. On the other hand, their married connection was supposed to be special, something so deep that only a husband and wife would share. And that wasn’t the case here. The only special connection in this triangle was between Biff and me, not Hannah and Julian. That was a fact. And it had been a fact well before the two of them met.

The crux of the problem was that Biff and I would share a little secret that Julian wasn’t in on. And secrets are the first nail in the coffin of every marriage. The Bible doesn’t have a chapter that covers virtual morality. Nevertheless, it was still a dilemma. No husband would like to find out that their wife was deeply in love with another man, even if that man was virtual.

I was dead certain that, Hannah would never leave Julian, or even treat him differently, based on our relationship in cyberspace. So all of the conventional reasons for calling this adultery were out the window.

There was no obvious reason NOT to take the first step. So I decided to kick the can down the road. I had not corresponded with Biff in over three years. Maybe something would be different? Time and additional familiarity would tell the tale.

The fact was, spending hours debating The Community of Man just didn’t feel like cheating.  All we would have to do was tread lightly around matters of sex and their relationship. The morality of that was ambiguous but not absolutely wrong.

It was just that I knew good old affable Julian. He really believed that women were put on this earth for the simple purpose of pleasing him. Combined with his understandable instinct to go ballistic if Hannah was anything but totally focused on him the niceties of boundaries wouldn’t mean a lick to him.

Therefore, his feelings would have to be factored into any decisions that we made going forward. Hannah would be a problem there. She was very dismissive of Julian. It was like she was dealing with a rambunctious 12-year-old. That attitude might make her careless

Whatever Biff’s attitude about him, I still felt like I had to ask Julian whether it was okay.  I was not going to reveal the depth of things. But since all that we intended to do was chat, I figured that I should make Julian aware of what we planned to do. That would fulfill my obligations under the “guy rule”.

I had dropped off a project and we were having our usual debrief over a pitcher at Clyde’s in Tysons. I said, “I have a favor to ask.” I had his attention. He asked ME favors, not the other way around. I said, “Hannah and I have a lot of things in common and I want to chat with her.”

He was unmoved. He said, “What’s chatting?” Great! I’m talking to a guy who thinks that the only function of the internet is porn. I said, “It’s where two people talk back and forth like they are having a conversation. It is sort of like the texting that you are doing under the table as I am talking to you right now.” He looked up from typing on his I-phone.

He was even less interested. He said, “Are you going to be sexting with her. If you do, I’ll kick your ass.” That was followed by a loud guffaw. He knew he was joking. Why would Hannah do anything sexual with a nerd like me? I am just as dense as he is when it comes to reading women. But, SERIOUSLY?!! Biff must have the guy eating out of the palm of her hand.

I said in the same jocular tone, “If I tried something like that SHE’D kick my ass. She is a very smart woman and I like to share ideas with her.” He looked skeptical and said, “Hannah is a great fuck but she isn’t a deep thinker. Her main interest is spending my money. Why do you think she’s smart?” Oh brother if you only knew.

I said, “She has really great ideas and she likes to talk about weighty things, stuff that matters like geo-politics.” That brought on more uproarious laughter. I said, “What??!!!” Julian said, “Don’t get any romantic notions about her intellectual abilities. I love her to death but she is a cunt, nothing more.

He continued to enjoy his joke, “You must be as stupid as she is if you think she’s deep and profound.” More boyish snickering. I decided that I didn’t know the fellow who was sitting across the table from me.

Being a man’s-man and every woman’s dream lover seemed to have put blinders on him. At least when it came to understanding the one person who he supposedly loved more than his own life. Actually, this Julian was kind of an asshole.

His advice pissed me off. But it also removed any moral compunctions that I had about renewing my relationship with Biff. If the fucker felt that way about his own wife than he had no capacity to recognize, or appreciate how special she was. And that was alright with me. I knew EXACTLY who she was.

As he was blithely giving me the green-light Julian was gandering around the room.  He had his eye on a table full of women. They looked like they might be clerical staff from one of the local companies, all very attractive and nicely dressed. He looked like he had decided something. He said, “You spend way too much time staring in your own navel Bill. You need to get seriously laid boy. And I have got just the girl to do it.”

He stood up and sauntered over to the table in question. The ladies all perked up and looked expectant. There was the usual suave back-and-forth, with Julian as the center of attention.  Of course he was… Then he motioned me to come over.

Right! Here comes my worst nightmare!!! The last thing I wanted to do was to sit and banter with a bunch of secretary birds. I walked over trying to keep from staring at the floor. But I didn’t meet anybody’s eye either. Julian was all jovial bon-hommerie. He said, “This is Bill. He is one of our super-stars at Booz but he is a little shy, so be kind.

He looked at me with the devil in his eyes and said, “The girls want us to join them Bill.” Then he gave me a very pointed look. He thought that he was putting my male ego on the line. That is normally no big deal since I really don’t have one. But Julian was clearly up to something, which made me curious.

He sat me next to Louise. Louise was the homeliest of the group which was still way better looking than any woman I have ever been with. My first impression was “brown.” She had a pleasant face. Nice intelligent brown eyes high forehead, long thick almost peasant hair and a slightly too large nose over a wide sensuous mouth. Her hair was dark brown her complexion was olive. Like I said, “Brown.”

She was about five feet tall with the biggest pair of tits I had ever seen on a woman of ANY size. She looked like she would fall on her face if she stood up. Her wool blend cashmere sweater was slate grey. On a chest like hers the coloration and the way it draped made me think of the Rockies. All she needed was a snow cap on each nipple. I couldn’t tell anything about the rest of her because her boobs blocked any view south.

As he sat me down with her I got the impression that she and Julian knew each other. In fact, they knew each other very well. They exchanged meaningful glances. I spent the next five minutes staring at the table while Julian waxed heroic with all of them.

Finally, in order to get me to stop staring at my hands like an idiot, Louise said, “So you’re a superstar huh? What are you a superstar at? You look like you could play in the NBA.” That gambit got an amused snort out of me. I said, “I have never played basketball in my life. I am a contract programmer for Booz working on things that I can’t tell you about without killing you afterward.” That was my feeble attempt at Tom Cruise humor.

She looked interested. She said, “Really, what does that mean?” The girl was good at this. I said, “Most of my work is with classified systems for the military. You have to have a clearance for me to discuss it. It’s no big deal but I could lose my own clearance if anybody found out that I was talking about what I do. I am definitely NOT James Bond. I just have a talent for code.”

She actually seemed fascinated. She said, “What do you do as a programmer?” I explained the ins-and-outs of what I do. I was not used to having a conversation with a strange woman. But this one drew me in. I felt like she really cared about what I had to say. And more important understood it. That was a first for me. The evening passed rather quickly.

In the meantime, as was his wont Julian was charming his new harem of females. None of them had close to Hannah’s smoking hot looks and perhaps one percent of one percent of the world’s entire population had Biff’s intelligence. But Julian was mainly interested in doing what he does best. Attracting doting fans.

It was late enough that I had visions of Buster with his hind legs crossed, trying to hold it in. So I said to Louise, “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I have had such a pleasant conversation with a woman as pretty as you. You are interesting.” Actually what I meant was, “You did a good job of being interested in ME.”

She looked disappointed. She said, “Do you have to go so early? It’s only 8:30?” I said, “My old buddy Buster the Brown Dog is at home probably close to bursting. I have to let him out and feed him.” She said, “I would love to meet your dog. Can I come along?”

That was a new gambit. I have heard of using room décor, works of art and etchings as an excuse but never smelly old brown-dogs.” I looked hesitant. She added a dollop of sincerity to her eagerness, “I really love dogs.” Sold!

She grabbed her coat and purse and we made our excuses. I said to Julian, “I have to let Buster out before he does something we will BOTH regret.” He gave me his usual condescending brush-off smile and a thumbs up of approval. He probably thought that Louise and I were headed for the back seat of my car.

When we got to the parking lot she said, “Which one is your car?” I said, “Over there. Where’s yours?” She said, “Oh I take the Metro. I need to ride with you.”

How do I get myself into situations like this? I knew that she was just trying to get a foot in the door with me. But now I would have to run her down to Fort Totten after I let Buster out. She was quite a stimulating sight though. She was a foot and a half shorter than me. So all I saw looking down was her thick curly brown hair and her massive jugs.

I could see that she was actually very tiny with a shapely body and proportionally long legs for somebody so short. Her giant rack made her look a little chubby. But if she was fat it was all concentrated in those huge swaying melons. The rest of her was rock hard. It was like somebody had attached a pair of double D’s to one of those tiny Olympic gymnasts – just as a science experiment.

My momma raised me to be polite to women. So I opened and held the door on the passenger side. She stopped and looked quizzically at me. Then she said, “Oh right! You’re holding the door! Nobody has ever done that for me before.” Talk about feeling like a gomer.

She hopped in, succulent mounds bouncing as she did. I got in my side. Started up and drove around the Beltway to Silver Spring.  It was summer so it was still light out. Buster was waiting at the door, “Quick Boss! Pant-pant-drool-drool.”

I grabbed his leash from the hook. Ushered Louise in and said, “Make yourself at home. We’ll be right back.” The late summer sun hadn’t set yet. So we headed out into the woods next to my condo. The old boy was in an uncharacteristic hurry. When he got to his favorite spot I found out why. He took what seemed like a fifteen-minute piss. He might have maxed out the local watersheds. You could hear his sigh of relief for miles.

We sauntered back at a much slower pace. In the meantime, Louise had taken off her coat and was spread out on her stomach on my couch, legs kicking idly. She was reading a magazine and drinking one of my beers. She gestured toward another one sitting opened on the coffee table next to her.

I took the opportunity to notice that besides having the kind of chest that made it look like she was lying on two throw pillows, she had a really dandy pair of little jutting buns mounted on round womanly hips. She was really quite shapely - if not earthshakingly beautiful. 

I said, “Would you like a tour?” She said, “No where’s the bedroom?” I said, “I beg your pardon??!!” She closed her magazine, got up from where she was resting and walked seductively over to me radiating total womanly confidence. Her eyes were about level with my chest.

She reached up put one hand behind my head and steered my eyes down to hers, just to make her point. They were very deep and dark and I could see a cauldron of lust brewing in there.  She said, “I like you Bill and I want you to fuck me now.”

That stupefied me. So of course I squawked something classically stupid like, “But you don’t even know me!!!”  She said, “What does that have to do with it. You are big and good looking and you do interesting things. You are a man and I am a woman. A woman who really likes sex. There are no strings. I just want you to fuck me. Julian says that you haven’t been with a woman in years.”

Rather than say anything intelligent I chose to defend my track record. I whined defensively, “It’s only BEEN a year.” How suave! Okay I admit I’m a weenie. I hesitated looking into those bottomless eyes. This tiny woman was a force of nature and she had taken me totally out of my comfort zone.

I knew she was a slut. But what can I say. I had really not had sex but once in a year and a half and those boobs looked so yummy.  I bent down, wrapped my arms around her, which was easy to do since she was so petite. I grabbed a round muscular bun in each hand and lifted her up into a long and very hot kiss. She wrapped her legs around my waist and clung to me, huge soft boobs and tight little body molded against my chest.

Her mouth was red hot. We lingeringly swapped tongues and she immediately started to moan and then writhe her huge floating breasts against me. To say that I was rock hard would be an understatement. I was harder than depleted uranium. Buster, who had been standing there in his usual dog-like stupor drool-drool-slobber-slobber, interpreted Louise’s actions as aggressive. Maybe he thought I was being attacked by a killer spider monkey.

Whatever it was he began to growl threateningly and made a loud bark. Buster is a big dog. He has a very deep intimidating bark. Talk about a mood breaker! Startled, she swung off me like Tarzan and stood on the couch behind me. She looked terrified. I burst out in laughter. I said, “It’s okay old buddy. That is the way humans do it. We start out in the front and THEN we move around to the back.”

Buster relaxed his attack posture, “Okay Boss, just wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurting you” and ambled lazily over to his food bowl. By now she was laughing as hard as I was. She said through her giggles, “Does he do that often? No wonder you have such a hard time getting laid?” It was true. But being a guy I had to throw the challenge flag.

I said with a smile in my voice, “Who told you I have a hard time getting laid? I might be a nerd but I haven’t taken up Holy Order YET.” She said, “Julian told us about your unfortunate situation when he first came over.” Great! Outed in front of an entire table full of hot women. Thanks a lot - asshole!

Louise was laughing now, “He said that one of us should fuck you just for pity’s sake and since he and I fuck all the time I volunteered for the job. I didn’t realize how attractive and interesting you are. I would have done it even if he hadn’t asked me.”

I thought lightheartedly, “Okay, she’s a little slut but at least she has good taste. HOLD ON A MINUTE HERE!!!!” I said totally flabbergasted, “Did you just say that you and Julian FUCK all the time???!!!”

She said indifferently, “Well, not as much as Melissa and Britt. But he gets around to me at least a couple times a month.” I said, “He is fucking three different women right now? Is that what you are saying?” She looked at me like I was a moron. She said, “I’m not saying that at all.”

I thought, “WHEW! I must be losing my mind.” She continued totally oblivious to my reaction, “Those are just the women in my OFFICE. He is fucking a whole lot of other girls too. When it comes to sex, Julian is like the energizer bunny. He has a big dick and he knows how to use it, believe me, I’ve experienced it. It’s unworldly. None of us can get enough of him”

Well, there it was! The evidence had been right in front of me from the start. But because I am more than a little bit “special” that way I couldn’t connect the dots. In my defense I think it was the certainty that he absolutely loved Hannah that led me in the wrong direction.

But of course, a guy like Julian, with a big appetite and no scruples lived for conquest. He probably considered all of the illicit sex his absolute right. After all variety IS the spice of life. Easy-peasy to rationalize if you have no soul. I decided that my former friend was a very toxic fellow indeed. In the meantime, my new little pal was unbuttoning her blouse!!! Conversation over.

The extraordinary mounds she was revealing were tempting but I needed space to process this. I wondered if Biff knew that Julian was cheating on her. More important I wondered whether it was my place to fill her in on that fact. 

On the one hand it was none of my business and it might devastate Biff.  Plus, guys don’t tell on each other. But on the other hand Biff was my cosmic other half and even worse, if the guy was fucking around on her he might bring her something nasty. I was sure Hannah was not a condom kind of girl. I looked at Louise with some regret and said, “Look, I really like you and there might be a future for us so I want to take it a little slow.”

I hastily added, “I am not proposing marriage but you are interesting and I don’t want to start this out with the one thing that is guaranteed to complicate things, sex. Can I take you out on a real date sometime first?”

She looked astounded and then really disappointed. She pouted prettily. She said, “Don’t you want something to remember me by TONIGHT. Everybody tells me that I am very good.” With that she reached for my belt. I took ahold of her hands. It was comical really. I am a foot and a half taller and over a hundred pounds heavier than she was. And here I was fighting tooth and nail to defend my honor from this determined little vixen.

I said, “I’m serious, do you just want a quick fuck or do you want to get to know me better? I am not interested in being a human vibrator.” She looked at me with that thing that all women do. The only comparison I can give you is the way an experienced trainer appraises a race horse. She did everything but walk around me, thump my chest and pry open my mouth to count my teeth.

Then you could see she reached a decision. She almost melted into a puddle in front of me. It was obvious that the little circuit in every woman’s head that is labeled, “potential husband” had toggled. It gave me an even bigger hard on. She said dreamily, “I haven’t been with somebody exclusively in 3 years. But you might be the one. What do you need me to do?”

I said, “Just let’s go out a few times and get to know each other. There are a lot of things that I like about you and I want to explore them further. If we hit it off, then maybe there is a future.”

I really meant it. This little brown girl with the big tits was pulling me into her orbit with a lot more power than I had experienced before. Maybe my relationship with Biff had changed me? I didn’t add, “And stop fucking Julian” because I wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment.

I was thinking to myself that it was a totally arrogant move on Julian’s part to hook me up with one of his fuck-buddies. Opportune to say the least, since it blew his cover. But foolishly over-confident nonetheless. It was a clear expression of how little he thought of me as a man. And it was also an indication of how little he valued the magnificent woman who was his wife.

In the meantime, Louise said, buttoning up her blouse, “Okay, let’s do it. When do you want to get together again?” I said, “How about I pick you up for a real date tomorrow night. And I take you to Blues Alley. Do you like Jazz?” Her eyes lit up and she said, “God! I love jazz but nobody has ever taken me to a place like that.”

I said, “Text me your address and I’ll see you at 6:30.” The ride down to the Fort Totten Metro station was mostly in silence. She seemed to be mulling something over. As she got out she leaned over and kissed me gently on the cheek and said shyly, “I am really falling for you Bill. Please don’t hurt me.”

So there it was. She was frail and brave and timid and broken as I was. I was smitten by her like she was a kitten in a box. As soon as I got my morning coffee the next day I fired off a message. It was old times again with Biff. But I knew who I was talking to now, so it really wasn’t.

I had appropriated a darkweb address as a chat-space and I wanted her to have the URL. For those of you who are not familiar with the darkweb, it is like the part of town down by the docks. It is comprised of nothing but the electronic equivalent of abandoned warehouses, which in the internet sense are old URLs. Most of those are dot gov, or dot mil because they were set up before the commercial internet.

If you know what you’re doing you can easily find an uninhabited space to squat. And once you do you can conduct any manner of anonymous, or clandestine business. That was where Biff and I were going to meet. I still didn’t know exactly what I was going to say. But Louise’s little tidbit had removed any moral hesitations. I had no desire to consummate anything with Biff beyond our virtual relationship. But at least it was now her and me against her husband.

Julian was a cheater and cheaters deserve anything that happens to them. She came back almost immediately with, “I’ll see you there in five minutes.” It was time to lay down all of the cards. If I were Biff, I would want to know what my husband was up to. And since she was the other part of my soul I was rock solid certain that my instincts were correct.

She said, “So you finally see it my way.” As if I could ever successfully argue with her.

She said, “We can have what we used to have? You have no silly hesitations about the morality of chatting with a friend about ideas and things. I promise no cybersexing?” That accompanied by a smiley face.

I sent back, “We need to talk my dear friend. Are you ready to listen to something that you are not going to like?” There was a gap of about ten minutes before she replied. I think she was getting herself ready for what she knew I was going to say. She wrote, “Okay, cup of chamomile in hand, proceed.”

I said, “First keep in mind that I love you. We are one soul so I feel the impact of what I am about to say like it is happening to me.” I sat back and looked at the keyboard. Then I started furiously typing, “I have irrefutable evidence that Julian is serial cheating on you.”

The sound of crickets, bullfrogs, the buzzing of mosquitos… The cursor sat there blinking in an ecstasy of uncertainty. I had no idea what was happening on the other end. But I knew it was bad. Finally she typed, “You know this for sure?! How did you find out?”

I said, “The simplest way possible. I am dating one of the women he is fucking. Julian fixed me up with her. I think he thought he was doing me a favor. Of course he doesn’t know about us.”

I continued with, “She told me about him in nauseating detail. She was just making idle conversation. She wasn’t gaming me. I was not going to mention it because I knew it would hurt you. But we are too close to hold something like this back. And I respect your dignity way too much. Is there anything I can do for you, ANYTHING just ask?”

There was another long agonizing pause. All I could hear was the sound of Buster over in the corner of the room noisily grooming his unmentionables. Finally, she typed, “You can hold me while I cry.”

I responded immediately, “Where? When?” She responded, “Parking lot by the Lake Frank Trails. One hour.”

It was a beautiful summer day. The DC humidity was down and the temperatures were bearable. The trees were an absolute sheen of green and gold glory with the sun shining through them. And nature was noisily going about its business with chirps and buzzes and the chattering of the squirrels.

I was sitting in my car in the parking lot at the Regional Park Entrance off of Avery Road, when she wheeled in, in her white Jaguar XF. I got out. She got out. Her beauty made my eyes mist over. She was wearing a simple spaghetti strapped sun dress. It showed off her gorgeous legs and her perfect full breasts. It was both demure and stunningly sexual. I did not get the impression that she intended the latter. It was just who she was.

But it was that sheaf of golden hair and her beautiful face with its fresh creamy complexion and its perfectly proportioned features that drew me in like gravity. I felt like the camera lens had panned in to a close-up shot. Her remarkable face was the only thing in the frame.

If you expected her to run to me and clutch at me tearfully you don’t know Biff. First of all, she doesn’t walk. She glides. She floated up to me with bitter hurt and amused irony all mixed together in her eyes. But they were also as steadfast as two gun barrels. My little voice marveled, “This is a woman of exceptional strength and courage.”

I looked at her with sympathy and said, “How are you holding up partner?” She smiled ruefully and said, “As well as can be expected when you find out that the person who you invested so much of yourself in doesn’t give a shit about your gift.”

She took my hand and we started to amble along together down the trail that led past the lake. We took the hiking trail that went into the less settled area of the park. Midmorning on a weekday is not a popular time. All of the prospective bikers and hikers are off doing earthshaking things down in DC. So it was just two very old and dear friends walking together in an empty park. You could hear the hum of nature but not a word was said.

We finally got to the Valiant covered bridge and stepped into the shadows. I stopped took both of her hands and looked into her eyes. The shades on them were drawn. She was inscrutable. I said, “What can I do for you?”

She turned and led me silently across the bridge and into the little meadow on the other side of the trail. It was slightly elevated down to the next level where the flowers were. The wildflowers below were in full summer riot. We sat.

She said, “Take me through this from beginning to end. Leave nothing out.” She was staring pensively at the greenery in front of us. I said, “I was out with Julian yesterday and he was showing off as usual.” She smiled knowingly.

I continued with, “He thinks that I am too nerdy to live. And so he thought it would be a hoot to fix me up to get laid. You know how he likes to make fun of me. I would have rather had my fingernails yanked out one at a time. But I went along with him.”

I added, “He sat me down with a girl who he knew was a sure thing. And right on cue she volunteered to come home with me. She was very direct. We hadn’t been in the door five minutes when she asked me to fuck her.”

I chuckled and said, “I have not been with a woman in over a year and that was just once, to celebrate my getting over you. So needless to say I was well on my way to breaking that losing streak when I got into the no-win thing that I am so famous for. I asked her why me?”

I said, “That’s when she told me that she was regularly fucking Julian. And he had asked her to take care of me on the side, as a favor. I know you think she is a little slut. But in a lot of ways she is just as naïve and insecure as I am.”

I said as if I was defending her – strange reaction on m part, “She has a great body and a very healthy appetite and Julian is extremely persuasive when it comes to the ‘it’s just sex’ gambit.”

I finished with, “Anyhow, her casually dropping that little skunk in the middle of the ladies’ bridge club ended any thoughts about my getting laid. So I got her to talk about it and she said that besides herself there were two others in her office who Julian regularly serviced and several others as well. She told me that Julian has a big dick and he knows how to use it?”

I said it as a question. It was offered as a kind of proof of authenticity. I was sure Biff would be able to confirm the truth better than I could. Biff’s face fell but she still looked cool and in-control. She gave a sad chuckle and said, “That girl has definitely been there and done Julian.” Then she shook her head like she was snapping out of something.

She said with grim determination, “I could have cheated on Julian with a-man-a-day since we have been married but I have been perfectly faithful to him. Admittedly, that was due to me feeling like I owed it to myself, rather than any romantic notions. I wanted to be better than that. And now I discover that he has never stopped being a hound.”

She said with steel in her voice, “I am not going to be the typical whiney woman. I am going to nail his hide to the barn door and then I am going to get REALLY mean.”

I said, “I can help with the espionage part. I have something that will turn his I-phone into your own personal snooping device without even having to jailbreak it. All you need is a momentary forced pair and you can transfer it over.” I did a thing with my nerd-phone and she had it.

She leaned over and put her arms around me. Because of the height difference it was my chest, not my shoulders. I enfolded her in my arms. She rested her head against me like a child. Then I could feel her start to sob. I held her making comforting noises. She cried for a very long time. Then she pushed herself out of my arms, reared back and looked at me. Decision made. Her face was wild with emotion.

She said vehemently, “I don’t know where this will lead but I want you to know that I love you without reservation. I don’t care whether Julian has ruined our marriage or not. All I know is that I will be yours forever. That will never change.”

I thought to myself, “They’re a complicated species.” Biff was an intelligent and sophisticated woman. Women like her have to have a sense of connection in order to love deeply. And our long, intense virtual life together had provided the necessary foundation for that. But the question remained “What will our love translate to in real-life?”

Seriously!! I am not totally delusional. In the real-world a woman like Biff would never notice a poor nerd like me. You learn the rules early in the game and the simple fact is that Biff and I are from two totally different universes.

Biff is a trophy woman. She is the sort of female that all the other women lose to. And whose beauty intimidates even the most confident of men. And if we were ever together, every man we met would think he could take her away from me.

The men who fit with Biff are alpha-males. They all look like Julian. They have his sophistication and charm and his self-confidence.  The fact is, being the wife of a guy who does contract programming out of a condo in Silver Spring simply didn’t fit the frame.

Of course all of that was pure future speculation. In the present we were a man and a woman sitting in a field of wildflowers rejoicing in each other’s company. A lot of water would have to flow over the dam before we decided what we were going to do about that. But I knew we would never be apart in the world where we both belonged, a world where I was the alpha dog. She knew that too.

I unwrapped her and got to my feet, brushing off my pants. She rose gracefully and took my hand. Her look of pure unadulterated love nearly melted the soles of my shoes. It was a sublime moment for both of us. We walked hand in hand back to the lot. Not a word needed to be said. At her car she stood on tip toes and kissed me with tentative sweetness. It wasn’t passionate. It was the kiss of a lifelong partner.

She said, almost ashamedly, “I need your help Bill. I have never faced a situation like this and I am confused and scared. If this is true, then killing Julian is an option. Nonetheless, if it isn’t true it doesn’t change my love for you. So my heart will be torn between two lovers. I need you to help me. Maybe I even need you to make the decision for the both of us. I’m not sure I am strong enough. Can you do that for us?”

Talk about a rock and a hard place…. 

I looked into those exquisite and infinitely wise eyes and I said the only thing that made sense, “First we have to find out what the situation actually is with Julian. I am with you every step of the way. I will always be with you no matter what. Here’s looking at you kid.”

She smiled at that allusion and said, “I need to find out for sure before I decide anything. I have to see the evidence with my own eyes. I thought I would be Julian’s for life. But if he is cheating on me it will help me make my final decision. Then we can talk about our future together. But please cherish our love, as I do.”

She spun out of my arms with a little sob and got hastily into her car, started it without looking at me and drove away. I stood there watching her go. The future never seemed more uncertain. But I had promised a little brown mouse that I would take her out tonight and I had to get back to my place to get ready.

Louise lived in a neat little apartment complex in Falls Church. It was exactly what I had expected from her, practical, economical and well-tended. The buildings themselves had that 1990s flavor and the surrounding vegetation was mature. 

I knocked on her door and was greeted by ferocious yapping. The woman who opened it was not the one I had dropped off the night before. This one was beautiful.

Louise had gone all-out with the make-up. She really had gorgeous brown eyes. When I was a teenager we used to call them “bedroom eyes”. And with those sensual lips outlined in shades of brown she looked eminently kissable.

The body in that little black dress was exceptional. I guess I already knew that. But I had no idea how really remarkable she was. The dress was demure if you could ignore her exceptional tits. It was nothing but material from her neck to tantalizingly above her knee. No cleavage. But those huge hills jutting out from her chest were hypnotic. They caused my imagination to soar. Something else soared as well.

She bent over to pick up the glorified rat at her feet. That act revealed perfect, full, muscular legs with those bulging calf muscles that four inch heels impart. Her hips were round and fruitful and she must have had a 20-inch waist.

Her Chihuahua told me in no uncertain terms what would happen to me if I touched her mistress. They are pretty cocky for five pound dogs. She turned to me with a smile and said, “She isn’t as ferocious as she sounds.” The varmint was resting possessively in the crook of her arm now, looking like Cleopatra on her barge.

I kissed her cheek and said, “Are you ready to go?” She said, “I’m excited. Most of my dates just want to stay in for the night. Not dress up and go out.” I didn’t need much imagination to envision that. And I was surprised that it gave me a jealous pang.

We drove down to Georgetown, parked in the lot on Prospect and walked the short distance down Wisconsin to Blues Alley. She jiggled along beside me holding affectionately onto my arm.

I have always liked Blues Alley. It features the kind of entertainers that most wannabe’s want to be. It is anything but fancy but it is authentic and the food and drink blend perfectly with the music. I had tickets so we got good seats. We had chattered constantly in the hour that it had taken us to get there. And what I learned about my little brown mouse was rattling around in my head like a 22 caliber bullet.

When I saw her yesterday I had thought that Louise was a secretary. But it turns out that she was a project manager for Boeing Aerospace, dealing exclusively with the Air Force. I said, “How did you get a job like that. I thought those kind of jobs went to ex-jet jockeys and people like that?”

She said perfectly matter of fact, “Oh, I used to be one. Never commanded the aircraft but I was copilot on a Buff for a couple of tours. Even did some missions over Iraq during the invasion.” Buff stands for Big-Ugly-Fat-Fucker, my little brown mouse was a B-52 pilot!!???

She wasn’t looking at me when she dropped that little tidbit. If she had been, she would have seen my chin hit my belt buckle. I said, “Wait a minute. You are a former bomber pilot?!!” She looked at me completely nonchalant and said, “Yes, I joined right after college. My degree is in aeronautical engineering and I wanted to get some real-world experience. I did the minimum 12 years and got out as a Major. This is my first year at Boeing.”

So my little brown mouse was actually a fighting mongoose?  I am a total idiot. It was the usual sexual politics thing. Men’s role is to hunt. And in that respect women are nothing more than prey. So, when we see a hot woman we are not going to ask ourselves, “What is this person really like?” Our sole aim is to cut them out of the herd for whatever OTHER purposes you have in mind.

Obviously the relationship will get a lot less simple minded as a man and woman get to know each other. And that can lead to genuine human bond. But in most cases a man’s first thoughts are not. “I wonder what makes her tick. What are her unique aptitudes and experiences?” It is more likely, “I wonder what’s under that sweater. And I wonder if she puts out?!!”

So, I had made the typical condescending male assumptions about Louise. Give me a break though! The girl was tiny and seemed to be willing to fuck anybody in pants. The last thing I would assume was that she was a certified air warrior.

I said, “How in the world would somebody so small pass all of the physical requirements?” She laughed and said, “I might be small but I’m mighty” she made a muscle. “And before you ask I had the girls bound up in an industrial strength bra on the endurance course.”

We both laughed. She thought she was being funny and I was still getting over my total astonishment and sheer embarrassment at underestimating her. I wondered if Julian knew how special she was. He probably didn’t care about anything but the type of fuck she could throw.

Until I knew her real story I just assumed that Louise was a brainless twit. Instead, she was clearly playing some kind of deep game. I wondered why.  I might be hopeless. But even I knew that women put up false fronts. Maybe that was it. She was a tiny woman in a man’s world. Nevertheless, it made absolutely no sense that she would come off as mousy and slutty as she was trying to make the world think she was, unless there was more to the story.

One part of me thought that she might just be a guy with a pussy. She flew bombers in combat for Pete’s sake!! That is a pretty macho thing to do. The male pilots who I have known are a lot more interested in quantity than quality. Why shouldn’t a woman be the same? So of course she would drink and fuck like a man, meaning indiscriminately.

The other part of me thought that I might have run into my female equivalent. My inner self is far too sensitive to function effectively in the real-world. So I give them nerd-boy. I have adopted that persona as a distraction, a defense mechanism so to speak. The only person I have ever shared my real self with is Biff.

I was wondering if the same might be true of Louise. The person I met yesterday was radiating, “Fuck me, I don’t give a shit” which is splendid cover for somebody who really actually cares a lot. And who has simply given up on the game. If you are that openly slutty, you don’t have to worry about what men think about you. You KNOW what they think about you. So you can interact with the male half without worrying about getting your ego stepped on.

Only YOU know that the person you are portraying really isn’t your essential self. My little voice mused, “Is it possible that the Louise I met yesterday was same kind of sad smokescreen? Was she floating a decoy like I do?

In the meantime, Louise was getting so many admiring glances from the male population that I was starting to feel threatened. I could do the math. She was a year older than me, had a long track record with men and she was definitely the hottest female in the place. The suave looking guy at the bar couldn’t take his eyes off her boobs. I began to wonder when she would start roping that fellow in as her evening bed-mate.

I know that sounds like I doubt myself. But the fact is that I doubt myself. I am not an alpha-male like Julian. Hell! I am not even a card-carrying member of the pack. I get whatever the others throw my way. I think Louise was beginning to sense that the natives were getting restless. Because, she looked at me a little uneasily and said, “Can we get out of here?” I nodded agreement.

She rose and squashed my arm against her delectable chest as we made our way out of the place. It was a possession move plain and simple. As soon as we came out of the Alley and onto Wisconsin she said, “Whew! I was afraid that the women at the table in the corner were going to kidnap you and carry you away to be ravished.”

I goggled and said, “WHAT?!! I was worried that you were about to leave with the dude at the bar who spent all evening undressing you.” We both looked at each other and chortled. She was as insecure as I am. I was feeling very close to my little fighting mongoose. We were very much alike.

I started to drive her back to her place but as soon as we got to the Key Bridge she said, “Bill, would it be all right if Chica and I went to your place. I packed a couple of things if we can just pick them up. We would like to spend the night with you and Buster.”

I was surprised by my reaction. It was pure joy. Remember, I’m a nowhere man. I said, “Are you sure you want to wake up with me tomorrow?” She said very eagerly, “I KNOW I want to wake up with you tomorrow. I have wanted to do that since the minute I met you.” And she snuggled over and molded herself against me.

This was getting interesting. In my entire life I have never had one hot woman want me. Now there were TWO? I was waiting for the guy to jump out and tell me I had just been “punked.” We picked up the rat and her little overnight bag and drove around the beltway to Silver Spring. The Chihuahua growled at me through the entire journey. I was hoping Buster would eat her.

Buster and she had the usual nose to butt handshake as soon as we got there. That was quite a feat given the fact that Buster’s head was approximately the same size as the rat and she had to stand on her hind legs to make Buster’s acquaintance. Then there was some romping and the two decided that they were in love. Dogs!

In the meantime, Louise had gone into my bedroom and come out in a nighty and robe. She got us both a beer and sat down on the couch next to me. She scooched over and I put my arm around her. She tucked her sleek legs under her cute little butt.

She radiated ease and contentment. I knew she had no fear of the bedroom. Sex wasn’t the vibe anyhow. She just seemed to fit with me like we had been married forever. It is something special that women do when they are starting to bond with a man. 

Biff might be the most beautiful woman on the planet but Louise could give her a run for her money in the body category. The extreme planes of her womanly figure were highlighted in light and dark by the lamps in the room. It was an awe inspiring and stiffie inducing sight.

She has a gymnast’s petite body. Her legs are proportionally long and very muscular. You only get female legs that full and ample from years of dance, or Air Force conditioning. She had proportionally very abundant hips and a round and exceptionally jutting pair of buns. Feminine but tiny came to mind.

Her body was an extreme hourglass but it was so tight it was almost hard. She clearly got that courtesy of a daily regimen of military fitness. But of course the only thing anybody would ever notice were her tits. They might not have been as spectacularly huge on a five foot eight inch, one hundred and thirty-pound woman. But on Louise’s tiny frame they looked gigantic. She had on a nighty so there was considerable cleavage.

Extremely heavy breasts like Louise’s will inevitably hang and sway. But hers were right up there on her chest, not around her navel. And their movement underneath the robe and nighty as she turned her body to face me was stimulating. Unspeakable forces were at play there.

She was looking at me pleadingly, like she wanted me to say something. It wasn’t hard to figure out what. I took her face in one hand and turned her toward me. I said with awe in my voice, “You are absolutely beautiful. I don’t know whether to fuck you or worship you.”

She said in a ghostly little voice, “I’d prefer that you fucked me. Since I am going to die if I don’t have you inside me soon. You can save the worshipping for later.” I picked her up and carried her Rhett Butler style to the bedroom. She must have weighed about 100 pounds. I placed her gently on the bed and shucked everything. Old Lucifer stood out like the Empire State Building over midtown.

In the meantime, she had slipped her robe to the floor and she was lying there in a silk teddy, which didn’t quite cover her bald pussy. Her eyes were extra-wide and deep pools of lust. I started in the obvious place. I sat her up and peeled the nighty off over her head. Her thick brown hair sprang back into place down her back as the nighty went up her arms and flew off in the direction of my bedroom lamp.

As soon as she dropped her arms her breasts gave one weighty bob. Boobs as big as Louise’s are too heavy to jiggle, they just bounce and settle. The sight of her lying there naked was an inspiration. Her boobs were puddled on her chest like a couple of throw pillows. The nipples were as brown as the rest of her. The aureoles were big and round. But those nipples were something special.

They were pointing excitedly at me, perhaps half-inch long and almost a quarter of an inch wide. They were like brown, throbbing, hot Nuks. I have a reasonable amount of experience with women and I have never seen such an erotic sight.

I took one of those incredible little items in my mouth and began to suck. She frantically grabbed my head to hold me there, threw her own head back and groaned loudly. Then she began to slowly thrash her legs.

I moved my hand down to between her widely spread legs and found molten hot liquid there. Her scent was so powerful it made every hormone I owned clutch its chest and pass-out. I reared back and looked at her. She opened those incredible eyes and looked back. They were so intensely focused and full of passion that they were almost opaque.

She was gazing deep into my soul. We were unlocking every sealed room. I could see the little girl, the engineer and the hero pilot. I could also see the generous, nurturing, soul of a woman who wanted one man to love. And it was me.

For a time, it was Zen not sex. We stared into each other’s being. Then something changed in those lovely eyes. The lust came boiling up like Vesuvius on that fatal day. Her eyes rolled up in her head, she he let out a little cry of sheer desire and grabbed Old Lucifer in a death grip.

She shot her legs wide open and dragged me over to between them. It wasn’t like I had a choice. That is, unless I wanted to lose a valued appendage. Then she unceremoniously jabbed me into her hungrily demanding slit, surrounding me in an ecstasy of hot silk.

She instantly threw her hips up so we were joined to the hilt. Then she began to fuck me like a wildcat. She wrapped her legs around my ass and began to grind her pussy against me so that Old Lucifer was rotating in an arc within her hot passage.

I could feel her juices running over everything and her womb began milking me like a berserk Iowa farmhand. Then she let out a loud cry, threw her head back and started whispering, “Yesss! Yesss! Yesss! CUMMING!! CUMMING!!! And then this little 100-pound woman bent her body into a bow and lifted all 220 pounds of me completely off the bed.

It was uncanny. We were maybe 30 seconds into the fuck at that point. I had never heard of a woman cumming so hard that fast. I had the totally inappropriate thought, “No wonder Julian keeps tapping her.”

In the meantime, she never stopped bucking. We were in a frenzy slamming together so hard that the liquid slapping sound almost sounded like shots. I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t hurting her since she was humping up at my pounding down on her with all of her force.

While we were doing this she was writhing and making little cries and grunts. Those began to blend together into a continuous wail. Then she started vocalizing.

She was humping at an incredible rate of speed. It was like a machine torqueing up. She began to just yell, “OH GOD!! OH JESUS!! FUCK ME, FUCK ME FUCKMEEEE” which led to a single hypersonic shriek. It was so loud that I was afraid that it would bring the Police.

She went off on a temporary frenzy of bucking and writhing. Then she went completely boneless, shivering ecstatically in my arms. Her body was totally still and pliant yet it seemed to hum with electricity. Her passage was a maelstrom of activity as she continued to orgasm. I came with a force that must have changed the local weather.

Her shriek startled the dogs. So my shooting into her was punctuated by their frantic barking at our door. Thank God it was locked or I would have had Chihuahua fangs sunk in my bare ass.

It took me a second to come back from where she had blown me. In the meantime, she was plastered against me by our mutual sweat making little sighing sounds. Mercifully, I didn’t hear the sound of approaching police sirens. All I heard were the dogs.

Her sturdy little body lay underneath me still quivering with deep sighs. She was a study in olives and browns. I was lying between her widely spread legs holding myself on my elbows. I looked down the length of her body, past the pillow of her tits and down that flat muscular stomach to the pronounced muscles on the top of her thighs.

There is something about olive skinned women with their super smooth honeyed skin that I find very sensual. Her coloration and the lingering smell of her perfume and her fluids was blowing up my olfactory senses. The heat emanating from down there was making me hard again. She finally said in a spent tone, “I have fucked a lot of men in my life but I have NEVER felt like I just did with you. That wasn’t sex. It was some kind of unearthly mind meld.”

And then she gave me a wan smile. She looked like she had just finished a marathon. She said, “That was everything I imagined and a lot more. I know you think I’m easy. I haven’t given you any reason to think otherwise. I love sex. And I never saw a reason why I couldn’t have it whenever I wanted it. I hurt nobody by satisfying myself.

Then she added with sincerity, “But I have to feel commitment. I know how insecure that makes me sound. But, when I DO give my heart I pledge my utter fidelity. It is just who I am. It was the reason why I served our Country. If you ever make a commitment to me, you will never have a reason to doubt my loyalty”

I said, “I feel the same thing and I think we need to see where this leads. For the first time in my life I want to bring a woman closer, not push her away. My entire life has been dedicated to the proposition of keeping people at arm’s length. But there is something about YOU that makes me want to take our relationship way beyond friends with benefits. I want us to be joined together as a single loving entity.”

It was true. I was having strange feelings. They were similar to the ones I had for Biff. In fact, if I was anybody but nerd-boy I would think that I wanted to make this tiny little enigma my wife. That thought wasn’t something I wanted to share at this particular moment. Louise would never understand my connection to Biff. And a lot of things would have to fall into place before I could take any next steps. Talk about being drawn and quartered!

I went from lonesome nerd to being lashed between two of the hottest women on the planet. And both of them fit me perfectly. Except each fit in utterly different universes. The fates must have been laughing their fucking asses off when they dropped that little conundrum on me. I loved Biff unqualifiedly. My situation with Hannah was a little more problematic. Nonetheless, if I had a choice of the person to spend my life with in real-time it would be my little mongoose.

Louise and I were a perfect match in the real world. We were totally unspectacular people. We had the same vulnerabilities and weaknesses. We didn’t glitter when we walked. Nobody stopped and craned their necks when we appeared in a room.

More importantly, nobody questioned why I was with her. Even though our size difference was comical, we left the impression that we had been a couple forever. We just looked right together. And she was a lot more attractive a female than I deserved.

Hannah was one of those unfortunate people who is TOO attractive. I am sure she often stood all by herself at high school dances because the boys were all afraid to even approach her. I am sure she only dated the top jocks and big men on campus. And it would take somebody with Julian’s inflated sense-of-self to want to marry her.

She was the trophy who everybody wanted to win. But nobody could take her away from a player like Julian. And she fit perfectly in his public life as an up and coming Yale MBA. Cyberspace freed her to be the person who she actually was, the genius behind that gorgeous exterior. And it is an unhappy commentary on life that she was only able to be herself in that faceless universe.

Biff and I were as close as two people can be when we were in virtual space. That was because the physical differences didn’t matter. In the real-world it was inevitable that those same differences would bring us down. I did not want to lose Biff to Hannah’s extreme physical beauty. It was a conundrum that Biff and I would have to wrestle with together and resolve.

Louise was easy, which is not a play on words. She and I could form a comfortable little cocoon of togetherness and the rest of the world could go about its business without bothering us. That was because we both had the same humble perspective. 

She was actually an extremely accomplished woman with an amazing track record in life. She had a pretty face and the most remarkable body ever bestowed on a female. And the way she could use it would give a Rapa Nui statue an erection.

Yet she seemed to view herself as a nowhere woman who could only have a social life by picking up and fucking men in bars. That was nothing more than a case of Louise misjudging her own worth. Any objective person who knew her or looked at her could tell that.

I suppose I was in the same boat. In my own modest way there might be ten or so people in the entire world with my abilities. So I suppose I am important guy in some people’s eyes. Yet, I have spent my entire life hiding out, certain I couldn’t live up to anybody’s expectations.

It wasn’t my parent’s fault. I’m just wired that way. I know that it is a self-image issue. But the interesting thing is that Louise and I shared the same problem. And, when we are together we seem to fill in each other’s missing pieces. It was like we balanced out each other’s karmic weaknesses. I am happy being with her and her alone. And she is happy just being with me.

If I wanted any other proof, it was the relaxed and joyous two days we spent together. Even her Chihuahua stopped growling at me. When I took her back to her place I felt a real twinge of pain at the separation. The only emotion that I have ever felt in the past when I dropped off a woman who I had slept with was relief at her departure.

I told her I would see her as soon as I got a project off the queue.  That was a lie of course. The only project I had was Biff. The following Thursday I was eating my Captain Crunch and daydreaming about the spectacular sex I had experienced all weekend.

Louise was voracious and imaginative. Her stamina was amazing and there were no boundaries with her. She taught me a number of things I had read about in books. But I had never experienced. It didn’t bother me in the slightest that she had learned those tricks with other men. She was mine now.

She made it plain that if we were together I would be the only beneficiary of her superb skills. That is if I wanted her. The thought that she might hook up with Julian over the coming week almost made me close the deal on the spot.

I was waiting for the inevitable from Biff. We had not started chatting yet. I was pretty sure that was because she was otherwise engaged. And that whatever was going on in her world wasn’t pretty. It hit my in-box at noon on Thursday. It said, “It’s over. Can you come to my place?”

I shot back, “Is Julian there?” She said, “He is gone and not coming back. We need to talk NOW!” She only lived in College Park so I was ringing her doorbell 45 minutes later. She met me at the door in a pair of skintight $300 designer jeans, rips strategically placed to show off a surprising amount of skin.

She had on a Harvard Graduate School of Education t-shirt. It made her high round and full breasts look extraordinarily spectacular. She probably has bigger boobs than Louise but the extra four inches and 25 pounds made them look about the same size. She was breathtaking.

She had coffee for both of us in her breakfast nook. The message was “sit and talk” rather than “hold me”. It was precisely what I expected from a woman like Biff. I sat down and looked expectantly at her. She sat opposite me stirring her coffee. Then she raised her eyes and met mine. There was a world of hurt and anger in them. I said as sympathetically as I could, “It was bad?”

She said, “I won’t burden you with the details but I have hours of sound and video of him fucking two different women, just since last Friday. One was while he was supposedly golfing. He went to her apartment instead. And the other was a nooner on Monday at a motel.”

I thought to myself “Yep! Energizer bunny.” I definitely didn’t want to find out if one of them was Louise. I thought Julian might take a shot at her this week just to re-mark his territory. That thought had been driving me wild with jealousy. But I said with real sorrow in my voice, “I’m sorry Biff. What can I do to help?”

She said, “I want to talk this to death, right here and right now. That’s what intellectuals do to get their minds around things. We have always been one soul and I need you to help me find the way. I’m frightened Bill.” She lapsed into the saddest face I have ever seen.

I said, “I assume you confronted Julian with the evidence.” She said, “I did. I put together a medley of his greatest hits and played it for him on that MacBook over there.” She gestured toward her open laptop. “Would you like to see it?”

I said with absolute horror, “Oh my God NO!!” The last thing I wanted was THAT! If one of those women was Louise it would kill me. Biff smiled grimly at me and said, “That is pretty much the way HE felt about it too. Except I made him watch it in excruciating detail. He really didn’t have anything to say beyond the usual, I’m sorries and it was just sexes.

She said with grim determination, “He is living at the Holiday Inn on 95 now and I have a pack of lawyers warming up to rip him to shreds. I’ve done all my crying over the past 24 hours. I am ready to deal with things now. Can we talk about our future?”

Okay! Nut cutting time…

I took both of her hands in mine and gave her my sincerest and most loving look. Love and sincerity were what I was truly feeling. I said with as much gravitas as I could muster, “Do you see yourself spending the rest of your life living in a condo in Silver Spring?” Something shifted in her eyes.

I said, “Because that would be our life together. We would do simple things and we would live a life of the intellect. There would be no gala parties, no cutting-edge social standing and no jet-setting travel.”

She said, “Why would we have to do that? I have all of the money in the world and you could move in here. We could have everything we wanted and you could have ME any time you wanted me.”

I said, “Having you exceeds my wildest hopes and expectations. You are the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. But your life in the real-world just isn’t me. I could never force myself into your lifestyle and you would be embarrassed to have me there. You know that.” Her eyes betrayed her. She knew that.

I said, “We fit together perfectly in the virtual world because there are no physical constraints but in the real-world we are hopelessly mismatched. It would be “Beauty and the Nerd.” Her eyes began to shine with tears, “Are you saying you don’t want me?”

I said, “I am NOT saying that at all. I love you with all of my heart. I will always love you and I could as much push you away as I could cut off my arm and hand it to a passing stranger.”

I said with as much sincerity as I could muster, “What I’m saying is that you and I live in two different dimensions. We are bonded forever in the virtual one. We will always be together there and that will never change. But we are utterly incompatible in this one.”

I gave her a loving look, “Everything in your upbringing and your life is different from mine. What is familiar to you in this world is alien to me. And what I want out of life is not anything you could ever sustain, no matter how much we love each other. Let me ask you, do you want to be a stay at home mom with kids?”

I could see in her eyes that was the LAST thing she wanted. She’s very smart. She got the point. I said with tenderness, “So if we tried to make this work in the real world you would regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.”

She said, “But what about us? I thought we would be together forever no matter what.” I said, “We WILL be together. We lost that connection for a little while. But now that I’ve found you again I will never let you go. We will always have cyberspace.”

She said, “I told you I loved you. That I would never leave you.” I interrupted, “And you never will. I am always there for you in our virtual world. I'm no good at being noble. But it doesn't take much to see that our dissimilarities in this world don't amount to a hill of beans in the virtual one.”

She understood and absolutely accepted what I had just said. She is a genius after all. I saw what looked like relief pass across her face. It kind of hurt to see it. But there was also something different in those eyes. The best way to describe it was “respect.” I walked around the table and raised her to her feet. I tilted her gorgeous face up to look at me and said, “Here's looking at you kid.”

She gave me a wan smile and said, “So what do we do from here? I said, “We lead the life we have always led. I am your lover in our world and I will never leave you. I swear it. But it is obvious that we have to make our way in real-life. Maybe you reconcile with Julian. Maybe you find another better man. You can do anything you want to do and be anybody you want to be”.

I looked deeply into those remarkable eyes and said, “Remember that I am always yours. I am always here for you. You can depend on me. And we will always have our world of ideas to share.”

She threw her arms around me and planted an open mouthed kiss that had steam coming out of my ears. She stepped back and with profound emotion said, “Thank you. Just thank you!! Now GO before I make a fool out of myself.”

I drove back to my place wrapped in a cloak of astonishment. I had actually done the right thing. And I had done it with grace.  Unbelievable!!! Thanks to Biff I was becoming less of a nerd and it felt good. I fully expected that Biff and I would be together for the rest of our lives in cyberspace. Any new lover, or even Julian’s return would be under those conditions. We could have our love, or whatever you wanted to call it. And we could have our real lives.

When I got to my place I found my little mongoose waiting for me. I had given her a key and she was making herself at home. She had already parked her rat and unpacked her overnight bag. When I saw her look of absolute joy at my appearance, evil thoughts about what she might have done this week with Julian disappeared forever. And thanks to whatever she had been doing before I arrived my place looked like home now. It was a preview of the rest of our lives.

The Chihuahua was lying on top of Buster, both of them were sound asleep. She looked like a growth on Buster’s broad back, not a companion dog. Nonetheless, with the peaceful way they were sleeping together it was a study in canine love.

Louise was bustling around the kitchen cooking something. It smelled delicious. I looked at this dear little woman and the feeling of love I had for her simply overcame me. I knew what I had to do. I walked up to her. She looked back smiling at me, her thick mop of curly brown hair was tousled over her forehead and her deep brown eyes were full of love.

She turned, impulsively grabbed my neck and planted a deep kiss on me pressing her hard little body against mine. Her huge soft tits were getting my attention. But we had to talk, I said, “Louise, can we sit down. There is something I need to tell you.”

She got that, “Oh shit” look on her face and let me lead her over to the couch. She sat knees together looking terrified. I said, “I have been thinking and even though we have only known each other for a week I have to tell you something.”

Her face went from, “Oh shit” to “I fucking knew it!” I said, “I have never wanted to be around a woman for any length of time in my life. Your gender is far too much trouble. But all I can think about is sharing my life with you. You complete me in ways I didn’t even know were missing. And frankly I don’t ever want us to be apart. Not even for one day.”

It was like somebody set off a nuclear explosion in her eyes. They lit up with a bright white light that was almost overpowering in its intensity. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with open mouthed ardor that promised a lot more to come. Then she started dragging me down on top of her.

My little voice was thinking, “The girl knows the right way to reply, that’s for sure.” As she was pushing up her dress and spreading her legs she was reciting over and over, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, I will make you so happy. I will be the loyalist and most faithful wife a man could ever want”

Apparently I had just proposed marriage? Oh well why not??!! It fit the situation perfectly. She was spreading and raising her legs to wrap them around me and tugging at my pants. I was now holding myself on my arms looking in her eyes, which had “Fuck me!” written in capital letters in them.

I said, “But!!!” Her face fell and her legs dropped onto the couch. She let go of her thong, which she had been trying to pull aside, and just lay there passive. Nothing could have illustrated the difference between Biff and Louise better than the present scenario. I had wanted to discuss things in the same rational manner that Biff and I had discussed them, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of us. But Louise doesn’t work that way.

So instead I was laying between her widely spread legs resting on her pubic bone and my elbows and looking down at her. She seemed devastated. I said, “If we are going to be husband and wife we can have no secrets and I have a big one that I have to tell you. Then if you decide you still want me we need to find somebody who will marry us as soon as possible. But what I have to tell you is difficult.” She looked even more upset.

I proceeded to explain my history with Biff. I started from the beginning and went all the way to the end. The fact that she was married to Julian, who Louise knew a lot more intimately than I would have preferred, added a lot of spice to the telling.

I finished with, “It wouldn’t be fair to you to marry you given the deep and abiding feelings that I have for her in cyberspace. I don’t know whether you would call it love in the normal sense of the word. Our relationship is strictly in the realm of ideas and the mind. But we have a personal connection that might be even closer than you and I will ever have as husband and wife.

She looked at me with fear and said, “How often do you plan to fuck her? I’ve seen her. She is incredible. I could never compete with a woman like her.” I actually laughed. Such a beautiful, humble, practical soul. That was the exact instant when I knew for sure that this was the woman I would grow old and die with.

I said still chuckling, “My relationship with Biff has never been physical. We share a virtual connection. Time will tell whether we keep that connection. After all, she might just drift off when she finds her next Prince. I am certain that I will never ever see her in the flesh again, let alone do anything intimate with her, EVER. Did you ever have any thoughts that Julian might marry YOU?”

She laughed heartily. I could feel the muscles in her stomach ripple underneath me. She said, “GOD NO!! He was so far out of my league my only question was why he was fucking me.” The movement of that hard little body under me, and those quivering tits reminded me why Julian was fucking her. I had another momentary pang of jealousy.

I looked deeply into those beautiful brown bedroom eyes and rolled the dice. I said, “If we get married, can you accept that I will be corresponding with Hannah in cyberspace. It will be in a relationship that could be construed as loving. Can you handle that?” She said, “Do you correspond with your mother, or sister like that?” Women!!! My little mongoose had hit the nail on the head. She really was a lot smarter than me.

I said, “I don’t have a sister but I get your point. That pretty much sums up the feelings I have for Biff, totally loving but abstract.” She didn’t even think about it. She just responded. Her body came alive under me. She wrapped her legs around my waist and as she was tugging her thong out of the way she said with finality, “You’ll never regret marrying me. I will make you the happiest and most well-fucked man in the PHYSICAL world.”

It was settled then. As I plunged into the hot healthy woman who was going to be my wife, I said with the deepest love, “Louise, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”






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