1. Hard Luck, Harlan Lawton - Chapter 2 of 2


    Date: 6/15/2016, Categories: Cuckold, Author: mattmoreau, Source: LushStories

    Sitting in a bar and crying in one's beer is a less than delightful way to live a life. That said, it is a primo way to think things over. So here was Jennifer allowing me, an old flame, an ex-husband, a complete loser the opportunity to get his rocks off, occasionally, and that for free! That there was a downside to that kind of favor does not seem to have occurred to her. My ego was crushed, but my balls were emptied out. My self-esteem, what little I’d had, was reduced to a vague mist in the ether of the eternal cosmos. Did the woman think me that low? Did she love me? The answer to both questions seemed to be yes. Still, that Jennifer no longer had any respect for me was clear; she felt sorry for me. And, again, I think too, that she still loved me a little and maybe even felt a little bit guilty about what she'd done to me. Questions answered, but now there were other questions, new questions. Should I bite the bullet and accept that I was a loser and take what I could get? Was there a way that I could redeem myself at least in my own eyes if not in Jennifer's or for that matter anyone else's? Yes, bars were good places to ruminate and plan and make choices; and oh yes, to drink. ****** "You play very nicely," she said. "Thanks, that's nice to hear," I said. "Can I get you another one of those?" The woman eyed me warily. "Sure, why not," she said. I signalled to Richard, who was on duty himself that night, pointed to her wine glass and smiled. He nodded and brought the ...
    replacement Chardonnay moments later. She was tall, maybe five-nine; she was a hard body, and she was Natalie Cummings currently active U.S Army. Why couldn't some of the women that I tended to meet be shorter than me, I thought. But, what the heck, as Frank Sinatra once sang: "The taller the tree is the sweeter the peach." "No boyfriend tonight?" I said. Okay, I was fishing. "Broke up. A couple of weeks now. Thought I'd get out and socialize a little," she said. I smiled again; this was looking good. We talked for the rest of my break, and when the last set was history, she was still there listening and sipping her wine. I went over to her. "Hi, again, I guess you must really like jazz," I said. "Any chance a guy like me could hope to have dinner with a looker like you sometime?" I said. She was a looker too. Brown hair, green eyes, bright smile, wide female hips, 34Bs—if I was any judge. Yes she was a looker for sure. "Are you asking me for a date?" she said. I sighed expecting a turndown. "Yeah," I said. "But, I'll understand if . . ." My insecurity was showing, I knew, but I was helpless to do anything about it. "The answer is yes," she said, and laughed out loud. "Why so tentative? You're a nice looking man. Of course I'll have dinner with you." She clearly had no problem lying. But, I was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. After what Jennifer had done to me, again, I was hoping to get at least a smidgen of my self-esteem reestablished. We met at the Huntington; ...
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