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The Escape Chapter 2: Accommodations

Kimberly attempts to reconcile her sexless marriage with adultery.
Kimberly rapidly adapted to her new routine. It required meticulous planning and execution but the effort was justified by the rewards.

She knew must have change. What that change could or should be was the problem.

The score sheet painted a dismal picture of their marriage.

The simplest analysis was financial. She supported Frank and it would remain that way as long as they were together. She was badly paid, but he was barely paid at all and that was only half the story. As long as she stayed, Frank’s career would come first, hers an afterthought at best. The church paid Frank less than the extra she might have made if she had not given up chances to apply for better jobs elsewhere. As far as their finances were concerned, Frank did not have a job: He had a hobby. Score: Stay:Bad, Go:Better.

Affection was harder to judge. She still loved him, but did he really love her? Frank’s belief in the Lord would never allow him to leave her. But would she find someone better if she left? Many women at the center had done worse than Frank. Score: Stay:Doubtful, Go:Unknown.

Sex was both easy and hard. There was no reason to stay. Sex with Frank had become a tedious chore for both of them. But might Frank be persuaded to change, to improve? He had been a passionate lover in high school, perhaps he could regain his earlier drive. She should give him another chance at least. But there would be no shortage of men willing to fuck her. Score: Stay:Doubtful, Go:Unknown.

She needed more information before she could make any decision. She would talk to Frank. She would give him another chance. But she would examine her other options first.

Examining her options would mean sleeping with other men, having sex with them. She would commit adultery. Could she do that?

Kimberly was sure that she could. Preacher’s wife or not, church had always been a matter of habit, a routine she observed out of respect for Frank than of faith. This had troubled her somewhat earlier in their marriage. Later she had come to understand that she was not alone in this. There were many reasons for coming to the church and faith was only one.

The question of what quickly became the question of how and when. Sleeping around town was out of the question. She knew better than most how fast gossip spread in the town. She would have to examine her options anonymously in a large city. San Antonio and Houston were perfect, close enough yet not too close and large enough for her activities to be cloaked by the anonymity of crowds.

When was easy. Every Tuesday pastors from around the area met for a prayer meeting in either Houston or San Antonio. The meetings often ran late and when Frank attended (which was usually), he invariably stayed overnight at a motel. Kimberly had always resented this personal luxury which Frank had assumed was his right despite the fact that it ate up most of his meagre salary. He could easily have justified the cost as a church expense. She was sure most did without a second though. But that was not Frank’s way. Frank would give every last penny Kimberly earned to spread the word of the Lord.

Now she would use it to her advantage. All she needed to do was to look to see which city the meeting would be in that week and head off in the opposite direction.

Her final question was who. If she was going to succeed in her plan she would need a confidante who could help her get up to speed quickly in the art of picking up men in bars. She had not dated anyone but Frank since high school, which meant that her courting skills were rusty and she had never tried them on a complete stranger.

Less than a year later she would have had no trouble finding the information she needed from the Web. But in spring of 1994 nobody she knew had heard of the Web, much less used it. The only way to find the information she needed was to ask someone.

The obvious choice was Megan.

Megan was one of the three shift leaders who took the morning and afternoon shifts in rotation. Technically they answered to the manager, in practice they reported to Kimberly.

Since her divorce six years ago Megan had been a self described ‘slut’. This did not bother Kimberly, she was competent and consciencious at her job. She had been with the company longer than Kimberly and should probably have claimed her job on seniority if their philandering manager had not had particular views about adulterers who possessed a uterus.

Megan was someone who she could trust. They would have lunch and girl-talk together.

“Hey, you should come out with me one night, we can party together”, Megan said in jest.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

Megan was momentarily speechless.

“Whoa! You’re serious,” she said with appreciation.

“I am serious. I am going to pick up a stranger in a bar then fuck him.” Megan must have no doubt about her intentions. Desperate though she was, Kimberly had no idea if she would really to go through with her plan when the time came. It could only work if they both knew and accepted the purpose of the operation in advance.

As she said these words, Kimberly realised that they were in a sense a promise, an oath she was making to herself. She was going to do it. When the time came she would put her doubts behind her and become an adulteress.


A plan was quickly hatched.

The following Tuesday, Megan and Kimberly drove in convoy to a Singles Bar called The Usual in Houston and took seats at the bar. The bartender began pouring a drink for Megan before she sat down: She was obviously a regular.

“Do you come here often?”

It was a classic pick-up line but effective nevertheless. Memory is an important cue in building a relationship. A useful side benefit is that it can provide useful information.

“No not really, first time in fact.” Kimberly’s answer was not important. If he was interested, he would not care.

“Same here,” his answer was more so. A visitor could not expect more than a one-night-stand. A regular might. Being a regular would not necessarily disqualify, but would require questions that might.

A brief discussion established that he was staying at the Hilton Americas Hotel and available. The rest was immaterial, as was his appearance. He was neither attractive, nor particularly unattractive. That suited Kimberly’s purpose for this first experiment, which was merely to find out if she could go through with her plan.

They made small talk for a while. He was a banker, from San Francisco. He travelled frequently. It was his first time staying at the Hilton.

This gave Kimberly her opportunity.

“You haven’t seen the view from the Skybar?”

He took the hint and not long after that they were looking over the city from the 23rd floor bar of his hotel.

“What would you like?”, he said, passing her the drinks menu.

“I would like for us to go to you room, get naked and fuck.”

He wasted no time. Leaving a five dollar tip for the waitress who had not served them, he kissed her gently as they took the lift down to his room.

As soon as they were in the room, Kimberly unzipped his fly to release his hardened cock. It was just the right size, a little longer, a little thicker than most but not too big and uncut.

It was the first time she had seen one uncut and the first time since she had seen any cock other than Frank’s since they had been married. A tiny drop of pre-cum glistened on the tip. His reaction was instant when she took him in her mouth.

“Oh that feel so good”

He ran his hand through her hair, stoking and caressing her and he gently stroked the outside of her ear.

They became naked and moved to the bed. He began kissing her, starting at the back of her neck, moving across to her lips and down her body to her breasts and nipples.

As he worked her nipples with his tongue, he ran his hands down her body, pulling her close to him, cupping her buttocks and rubbing the small of her back.

She was ready for him, more than ready. He was ready. Why was he teasing her so?

He parted her legs and began stroking her inner thighs. Kimberly pulled his hand up to touch her cunt. She was so slippery, so wet she could hardly tell what he was doing to her, but it felt so good.

He was rubbing her clit with one hand and finger fucking her with the others, crooking his hand slightly so as to press firmly against her g-spot.

She moaned slightly, which he seemed to take as a signal to begin, pulling away from her slightly and arranging her legs for his entry.

But it wasn’t his cock that was going to enter her but his tongue. Grasping a buttock in each hand, he drew her towards his mouth as if he was raising a large, two handed cup to his lips.

The tip of one of his fingers brushed against her ass. His fingers were wet from being inside her and he had no trouble penetrating her.

“Yes, yes oh please yes”, Kimberly was in a world beyond reason, beyond all sensation. There was only her cunt and her clit and her ass and the electrifying connection they made to her lover.

Soon she was coming. The orgasm was better and longer than any she had had with a man before and kept coming as he twisted his hands inside her to wring new waves of orgasm from her g-spot and her ass.

“Thank you, I do so love it when a woman lets me play with her ass.”

He held her in his arms for a while stroking her gently.

“Can I ask you something.”

Kimberly nodded.

“It may offend you.”

“Nothing you say would offend me.”

“Would you let me fuck you there, there in your ass.”

Had he suggested this before they came into the bedroom, she would have been disgusted. She had heard that it was possible, but the idea had struck her as revolting. A finger was one thing, but his cock was much, much wider than his finger.

But now, in that moment, she was open ready and willing to please him in any way he wished.

And would have if not for the fact that she had come to his room with a purpose: To become an adulteress. If he didn’t fuck her properly, didn’t fuck her in the cunt, didn’t come inside her, there might be a doubt, a technicality that she might later try to use to excuse or explain her behavior.

She paused for a moment but he did try to discuss the point further. When she didn’t respond immediately, he took that as his answer and slid his erection gently into her cunt instead.

The deed was accomplished and Kimberly just lay back and let him ride as she felt the fullness of his cock inside her. For the first time in years she had been, and was being satisfied in bed. For the first time in years she was being fucked by a man who wanted to please her and not his imaginary friend.

Afterwards they lay together, their bodies interlocked. It was getting late and Kimberly would have to start her journey home soon to sleep at a reasonable hour. But a germ of a thought had taken hold. She reached behind her and ran her hand along his cock. It began to harden.

"What is it like", she asked

"What is what like."

"Being fucked in the ass."

"That depends, if you are a man it is pretty much guaranteed to hit the prostate gland and that feels really good."

"And for a woman?"

"It varies. For some women it is the best way to stimulate the g-spot and hit the big O. For others, not so much."

"Is it painful?"

"If it hurts you have to stop. Ass fucking should always be as good to receive as to give."

"Why would you want to?"

"Orgasms can be faked, but an ass can't lie. If the woman isn't totally into it, it just cant happen. That’s why I love ass: The fact that it lets you in proves that you are worthy."

Should she? Ass lover sounded so persuasive. He had allowed her to achieve her goal, should she allow him to achieve his?

Hesitantly, Kimberly pulled his cock towards her ass.


On the way home, Kimberly congratulated herself: Their encounter had been entirely satisfactory in every respect. In the following week Kimberly was pleased to discover that she did not feel one iota of guilt or remorse.

Covert polyandry became a routine: Every Sunday she would listen to Frank preach the virtues of chastity and fidelity and every Tuesday she would drive to either Houston or San Antonio to find a hook-up at a singles bar. If not for a chance meeting one Tuesday in Houston, it was a lifestyle she might have easily become habituated to, an acceptable accommodation with existing circumstances is frequently the best if not the most desirable outcome.

Although each one of her subsequent Tuesdays was at least satisfactory and many were considerably more than satisfactory, none quite reached the same peak as the first.

The next Tuesday, they went to San Antonio where Kimberly hooked up with a college athlete. He was young, courteous and eager to please, but inexperienced. Kimberly had to make him slow down, guide his hands. “You have to tease me, you have to make you want you so bad”, she said running her had through his hair as he licked her nipples.

The athlete was cute, but he wasn’t ass-worthy.

The following week it was back to Houston where she found an oil rig worker who had just come back from shift and had not been with a woman for four weeks. The week after that a San Antonio Lawyer who was charming, witty, intelligent and passionate in bed.

With each encounter Kimberly refined her pickup skills and learned a little more about the type of lover who was likely to perform in bed. Looks were if anything a counter indicator: The adonis she caught on her third date was a flop in the sack. Size was no indicator at all, except in one respect. One lover had a cock so long that it poked at her cervix when he thrust too deeply. Years later she realized that he had probably had surgery called a penis augmentation to give an extra couple of inches in length.

She also noticed a change in her own performance. She became more active, more willing to take control. With Ass Lover she had simply laid back and let him conquer her. Now she would conquer her lovers, riding on top or take a particular position and demand to be penetrated.

One reason for this change was her increasing experience and confidence. Another was the habit she fell into of breaking her trips to Houston at a store called The Eros Center.

Her only regret was that Ass Lover had declined her offer, and that was only in retrospect. At the time it had been a relief. Later, she discovered that ass-worthy men were rarer than her beginner’s luck had led her to believe. Ass Lover became the benchmark, the standard against which all others would be measured. Some come close but none quite matched.


The morning of her last Tuesday encounter, Kimberly found a pink Post-It note stuck on her monitor. There was no name but the writing was Megan’s. Pink was their code.

VERY IMPORTANT: 7:00 Today (TUES) - The Usual

Megan had probably chosen the location so the real meaning of the message would not occur to anyone else reading it.

Kimberly looked for Megan but she had finished her shift early and was nowhere to be seen. That was unusual. The morning shift leaders were meant to report to her at the start of her shift and would usually check in again before the end of theirs. Megan would not be absent without an important reason.

It was clearly a meeting of some kind, but who and why? What could be important enough to take such a risk? She would find out soon enough, she stuck the Post-It note on her purse and put the appointment out of her mind until she was preparing to leave and picked up her purse again.

There was only one explanation: Ass Lover! Megan must have run into Ass Lover again and persuaded him to meet her again!

Kimberly smiled, Ass Lover was certainly worth a rush hour drive to Houston.

On a whim she ducked into the ladies room on the way out. She had already become slightly moist from the thought of another evening with Ass Lover. This time there would be no holes barred.

In the privacy of a stall, Kimberly applied a small amount of lube to a finger and applied it to the outside of her anus. It felt good. A little more lube allowed her to probe a little deeper. She took a small black object purchased from The Eros Store the week earlier from her bag and held it up as if she was a jeweler holding a precious gem up to the light. It was slightly larger than her finger but it slipped inside easily.

This time she would be ready. This time she would be available.

The road to Houston was choked with traffic but Kimberly was only thinking of Ass Lover and how horny the though of Ass Lover was making her.


As soon she walked in the bar, Kimberly realized it was not Ass Lover.

A woman sat alone at a table close to the bar staring straight down into the table. There was a bandage on her wrist. Her face was swollen with bruises.

It was Kath.

“What happened.”

“Same as before”, Kath’s voice was barely audible “he hit me.”

“Aww Kath, why did you do it, why did you go back to him?”

Kath did not look up.

“I went back. He hit me again. Just like we both knew he would.”

“What are you going to do Kath, What are you going to do?”

“Leave him, leave him before he kills me.” It was no exaggeration.

“How Kath, where?”

Kath glanced up at Kimberly for a brief instant, then her eyes returned to the table.

“That’s why I came here. Megan said you would meet me here. I need to come back.”

Megan was asking a lot. She would not have asked unless the situation was desperate, unless there was no other option. Megan had done Kimberly a big favor, but no more than the kind of favor that one friend might ask of another. This was different, it involved her job. Megan would not have asked if the need was not urgent.

Kimberly would give Kath her job back. Of that there was no question: She owed Megan a favor and Megan was calling in the debt. Kath was not a great rep, but she was adequate and a known quantity and they were short staffed. Kimberly would give her the job, but there would be important conditions. There was no point in saving Kath this time if the cycle was going to repeat in the future.

“Why did you go back to him?”

“He, They told me, told me I had to.” Kath spoke mumbling, broken words in a voice about to crack.

Kimberly thought about Kath’s husband. A great, lumbering brute of a man who could not string together five words to make a sentence. He could never have persuaded Kath to return without help.

“Who Kath, who?”

“He told me it was God’s law, that a woman should be with her husband.”

“That’s crap Kath, who told you that?”

“You don’t know?”


For the first time during the conversation, Kath looked Kimberly directly in the eye and her blackened eyes told the terrible truth. Now Kimberly understood why Megan had asked her to come here. Now she understood that she could not continue to live the lie of the perfectly faithful pastors wife who drove to a singles bar every Tuesday to find a stranger to fuck.

Accommodation had failed.

Kimberly looked back at Kath and waited for her to say the words that she knew would come and break her marriage beyond repair.

“The pastor. Frank Parsons. Your husband.”

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