Synopsis: A young husband catches his wife and well...
Part One: Cable's Story
Let's get the introductions out of the way first.
My name is Cable Flannery. OK, ask me how I got the name Cable. Well back in the day my mother had a thing for Jason Robards. Don't ask me why; she just did. He made a movie about a guy named Cable Hoague, and that's how I got my name.
I'm twenty-seven, a Community College graduate, and I have my own business. I started my own automotive repair shop a few years ago. I'm still at the tune up, breaks, tire repair, and lesser electronic and fuel related jobs. I could do the more complicated work; I just don't have the time or the equipment to do more right now. Believe me you never want to take on a job if you don't have the proper tools, and that goes with anything.
I'm not quite six feet tall, standing at five eleven. I have light brown hair that you might call sandy and blue eyes. Some girls think I'm handsome. My wife does, or I thought she did anyway, but that's the heart of the story anyway.
I don't have any special skills. I mean I'm no martial artist. I can't fight. Never wrestled, and I was lousy at sports. Now don't make the mistake and think I'm some kind of wimp. I learned fast in high school you don't have to win your fights to get respect. I never won a fight, but I was in a few, three actually. Like I said winning isn't everything; getting your ass kicked can be just as good if you make the other guy pay a little.
The watch word when I was in school was balls. I wasn't much of a fighter, but I had balls. Bullies and such left me alone because they knew though I'd probably lose they'd have to pay to win.
I remember there was one guy, his nickname was Humpy. He jumped me one night after a school dance. He beat the shit out of me. I got a black eye and a bloody nose, but I got in one lucky punch and broke his jaw. I tell you it was great standing there with blood all over my shirt listening him as he got less and less coherent telling everybody how he kicked my ass.
I agreed with him, "Yes Humpy, you sure kicked my ass." By the time my buddies dragged me away Humpy's jaw was so swollen no one could understand a word he said. I was back in school on Monday with a black eye and a big bandage across my nose. Humpy, the winner, missed three days of school. He had to get his jaw wired.
So I'm just a hard working regular kind of guy. I like to watch football. I like working on cars. I like to hunt, and until lately I loved my wife. Honestly, I still do. That's what makes me crazy.
My wife, her name is Carla, is five foot four, and weighs a cuddly 120 lbs. She, like me, has light brown hair and blue eyes. Carla is a year older than me. I always thought she had a great shape, nice tits, 34Bs, great ass, tiny little waist, and the sweetest little pussy you could imagine. She always used to keep it clean and trimmed. I don't want to talk about that right now.
We have a little girl. She's three. We named her Calista after Calista Flockhart. She has the same hair and eyes as her mom and me. She's just about the most beautiful little human being I ever laid eyes on. I just love her to death. Of course, I spoil her rotten. I was hoping to have a few more kids, but I kind of doubt it, at least probably not with Carla.
About two years ago my wife took an interest in antiques. That was something she'd taken a few classes in when she attended College. She went to the local four year university. She belonged to a sorority down there, and I met her one night at one of her sorority socials.
I remember I didn't want to go. I never mixed with the fraternity-sorority crowd very well. I liked the kids well enough I suppose. I just never had the money they had. When they all drifted off to the beaches for spring break I had to put in extra hours at work for money for books and such. I was already through with college when I met Carla anyway.
Like I said we met at this sorority social. I liked her right away. So did about twenty other guys so I never got very close to her that night. She must have noticed me though because a few days later one of her sorority sisters was at the place I worked with Carla's phone number. I called her up, we had a date, and after that I was hooked. I couldn't say the same about Carla. I called her a couple times after our single date, but she was always out or her phone went to voice mail so I guessed that was it.
I'm no special sexy guy. I had a friend who was a girl in high school. We sort of connected because I suppose no one else was interested in either of us. She was pretty, dark hair; big tits, great ass, but she never had many dates. Her name was Laurie. We sort of became what they call 'friends with benefits'. We did it a few times on her parent's living room sofa. It wasn't great. We both were always sort of worried someone would walk in on us, but I could at least say I wasn't a complete virgin.
How did Carla and I actually connect? I was out of college, living at home, saving my money, and working for a tire dealership in town. I already had plans to start my own business. All I needed was a little more money, a place to open a garage, and more balls. Well the tire dealer was a Triple AAA facility, and sometimes when nobody else was around I had to take the truck out when we got a call.
It was the middle of winter. It was snowing, and the roads were icy when we got this call from somebody who had run off the road and needed help. No one else was around so I got the pleasure. I reached the site of the occurrence and there was Carla. She was drunk and her car was in a ditch. I should have reported her to the police but I didn't. I got her car to the side of the road, loaded it on the back of the truck, and hauled it back to our place.
Carla rode back to the tire place sitting beside me in the truck. She was crying and sniveling about how her father was going to disown her, and her mother was going to sell her to some whore-master or something for being a worthless shit. I don't think she remembered me. After I got her car in the garage I took her to a Denny's and filled her as full of coffee as I dared. I got her reasonably sober or at least more alert. She was still too scared to go home so I took her to the nearby Motel Six and got her a room. I got her to call her parents and she told them because of the icy roads she would be staying at a girlfriend's for the night. I told her I didn't think there was anything really wrong with her car, at least I hadn't seen anything.
I said I'd check it out later when I got back to the tire shop. If nothing was wrong I explained to her I'd bring it over in the morning and she could go on home from the motel. She thanked me, and I went on about my business.
Her car had more damage than I originally thought, but I was able to fix everything except a minor dent on her right front fender. I got it all done by midnight. It ran all right, maybe it was a little out of alignment, but she'd be able to get home without getting caught by her father.
I took it over to her the next morning. She met me outside the room I'd gotten for her; she thanked me, and drove off. Damn she left me stranded all alone out in front of the motel. I had to walk all the way back to the shop in the icy cold.
She must have remembered later though because two days after that she showed up at the Tire Store. She apologized for being so stupid, and asked if she could pay me back by taking me out. I agreed, and that was how we finally started getting together.
She sure wasn't bashful. By the third date we were in the sack. I tell you I thought she was beautiful. I fell head over heels in love. Looking back now I guess I should have known better; good girls didn't spread their legs for automobile mechanics after three dates. I didn't care at the time though; those magnificent pear shaped tits with those long dark nipples and big round aureoles, that adorable shaved pussy with those big labia, and that terrific clitoris that seemed to have a mind of its own just overwhelmed me. That should have been a second warning I guess; that body was just too polished to be the property of a novice.
We dated pretty much off and on for the next six months. I was exclusive, but I didn't think she was. Later I found out she really wasn't up to anything; it was just me after all. At the time it didn't matter much. We weren't married.
I finally got up the nerve to ask her to marry me; to my surprise she said yes. She wanted a June wedding with all the goodies, and that's what her mom and dad arranged. It was a nice wedding. I had about thirty guests, and she had about a hundred and thirty. I had mostly family and close friends, but she had her sorority sisters and quite a few old fraternity friends. I liked most of them, but there were a couple guys I didn't especially warm to. Face it; a couple of them were just a little too familiar with my new wife, and I didn't like it.
I liked Carla's parents. They were OK I guess. Her dad was a lawyer, and her mom was an alcoholic who pretended to sell real estate. I got the impression they didn't think too highly of me. Who would; I worked on peoples' cars. I got grease on my work clothes and my hands were always grimy. You could say they sort of looked down their noses at me. I just wasn't quite good enough for their little girl.
Actually my hands weren't grimy or dirty; they were like that only while I was on the job. I kept myself clean, and after we got married and I started my own shop I had a bathroom installed with a shower. Carla never smelled anything from the shop. I mean I didn't wear a shirt and tie except when we went to church, but I was a clean guy, neat as a pin around my wife and my little girl.
The Day my Happy Stupid World Ended.
I remember it was a Saturday. We'd been married six years, and I thought they'd been the happiest years of my life. Calista was a toddler. Carla's antique business was doing well, and my garage was running on eight cylinders.
Carla had taken to watching the newspapers for auction sales. We lived in a pretty small town, and every now and then somebody's great grandmother died and the children would put everything up for auction. If there was a good one Carla would drop in and buy something if the price was right.
Old Mrs. Clements had finally died a few months back, and her children had decided to sell off the farm and all their parent's furniture and stuff. Carla said she planned on checking the place out to see what was available.
This was her third auction in the past month. Usually these things lasted all day. Carla would leave early in the morning and not get back till way late in the afternoon. I went to one of them; found the whole thing a bit boring and begged off after that. She asked me to go with her a few times, but eventually she gave up asking. Sometimes she's come back with a bunch of stuff, sometimes nothing. The last two times she'd been gone all day but came back empty handed.
I knew the Clements pretty well when I was growing up. I liked them a lot. I also remembered they had some old tools and such I thought I'd like to look at. I said something to Carla about me tagging along this time, but she threw a wrench in the idea saying she was sure she'd be there late since she knew they had a lot of good stuff. I thought it was a little odd since usually she liked it when we did that kind of thing together; not this time though I guessed.
I told her I guessed I'd just stay home and watch Calista. I could have gotten my mom and dad to watch my baby. That was another thing. My mom and dad would get their noses out of joint if we asked Carla's parent's to watch the kid. My mom and dad would get jealous, but Carla's parent's always had other plans. It was like they didn't want to watch my kid.
I had a lot of work ahead of me in the garage, but today I thought it would be a 'me and my baby' day. Carla left for the auction around 10:00 a.m. I thought that was a little late, but who was I to know? Shortly after she left I looked over at Calista and got an idea. I thought why don't we go on up to the auction. We could surprise mommy, and maybe stop off and have a nice lunch.
I thought it was an especially good idea because Carla had dressed extra nice that morning. Usually when she went to these things she just wore jeans and a Tee-shirt. This morning she'd put on this really pretty and sexy floral print sundress. I never gave it a thought at the time. Later it occurred to me the last couple times she'd dressed a little more nattily than one would expect for an auction.
I pulled out baby's car seat and fixed it in the cab portion of my big pick-up. I got her all snuggled in safe and sound. I climbed up, and we took off.
Now I had a big full bodied General Motors diesel with extended cab, long bed, and all the other goodies. I sat up there pretty high. I could see just about everything. I was driving north on the two lane highway that ran through about four small towns. Of course there were stop lights all along the way.
Here I was sitting high wide and happy in my big truck driving north to this auction when I got stopped at a red light. No big deal. I looked across the street at the southbound cars stopped at the same light. There in the front of the stopped oncoming traffic was a white BMW. There was this guy, a real preppie type, seated behind the wheel. He had this big smile on his face. I was watching him, and he could see me.
That's when my world came to an end. This guy was all happy and smiling because some babe was giving him a blow job right there at the light. I watched. I thought it was kind of cool; getting your rocks off in the middle of the day. Then the babe doing the dirty sat up and looked at the driver. I almost shit my pants. I nearly threw up. Here was this luscious sandy haired babe wearing this floral print sundress. I could see the semen on her face. She smiled at the guy and looked out through the windshield. That was when she saw me.
Here I was watching my wife wiping some guy's sputum off her face, and there she was watching me watching her. Her face went from a beautiful sunny pink to white, then to red in a matter of three seconds. I watched her as she ducked her head back down, but it was too late. I'm sure she knew it too.
The light turned green and I continued on north to the auction. I drove a little faster than normal. I wasn't sure what she and her new friend would do. I was so pissed and hurt I only knew I didn't want to see her ugly cheating face ever again. I drove up to where the cars were parked, found hers, and then drove off. Thank god little Calista had gone to sleep.
My whole world had been torn upside down. I didn't know what to do. I decided to go to my parents. I got there and took my baby inside. I explained to mom and dad what I saw, and asked them if they would keep an eye on Calista for a while. My mom and dad were very sympathetic. They gave me a big iced tea and a hefty piece of apple pie. I drank some of the tea, but was afraid to touch the pie. They warned me not to do anything stupid. I promised them I wouldn't.
I figured I still had enough time to get home, pack up some personal shit and some of Calista's stuff, and get away before Carla got home. I was so sick.
I just couldn't stand the thought of looking at my wife let alone saying anything. I mean what would she say? She'd either tell me we were through or she'd make up a bunch of lies. I guessed I just wasn't good enough. I didn't know. Was I that lousy in bed? Maybe I wasn't man enough? Maybe we didn't have enough money? I knew all her friends were kind of rich; maybe she needed more. She had friends who went on vacation to Hawaii. We went to Ocean City, Maryland. I'd gotten Carla a real nice Jeep Cherokee. It was safe, and I could work on it. Was being married to a mechanic that much of a downer? Had I been mean or had I been ignoring her? I just didn't know. Either way this marriage was probably history.
I mean my heart was breaking. I really loved my wife. Carla, after Calista, was the apple of my eye. She was all I thought about, and she looked so damn good this morning in that sundress. Now she was out there somewhere giving everything I loved away. Worse, I had my cell phone with me, and she hadn't even tried to call! That was the kiss of death for sure!
I got to our house, her house now, I could never go back there, I loaded up all my clothes in some trash bags. I had good luggage, but it was all in the attic and I didn't want to waste any time. I got everything in my truck and pulled away. I planned on going to the same Motel Six where I'd gotten her a room, what seven years before.
I got to the Motel Six. Bought a couple cokes from the machine, got some of the crushed ice from the machine they had, went in the room, poured myself a good one and started to cry. I couldn't think of what to do. All I wanted to do was die. My wife, the love of my life had cheated on me, she'd blown me off, she'd abandoned me, and I didn't have a clue as to why. I didn't even want to know why. All I wanted to do was cry.
Part Two: Carla's Side of the Story
It's not fair to just hear one side of a story. I have a point of view too. Actually I know now I don't have a point of view. What's scary, really scary, I might not have anything pretty soon.
The first time I met Cable was at one of my sorority's mixers. As soon as I saw him I knew he didn't belong there. I mean everybody was smooth and cool; that is everybody but him. He had that little lost dog look. He was so out of place. He was cute too. I mean he wasn't what I'd call especially dreamy, but he was sort of handsome; he had this cuddly teddy bear look. I mean right away I could see myself going up and wrapping my arms around his broad muscular shoulders, squeezing his neck in my hands, running my fingers through that shaggy mop of hair, and smothering him in kisses. He looked like some big floppy clumsy Labrador retriever puppy.
Everybody else was dressed in designer this or designer that. I could tell he wasn't in my league, not that way, but to be honest, I was sick of my league. I mean everybody was nice, but they were nice in an expensive sort of way. When we talked about watching a sunset over a quiet lake, everybody meant Lake Tahoe. If we gabbed about the beach it had to be Waikiki. Nobody talked about Rehoboth or Bethany Beach; those places were just too proletarian. This boy in the worn jeans had Wal-Mart written all over him. I say worn jeans; most of the worn jeans I own are manufactured to look worn and torn; his jeans really were worn and torn.
Look I'm not a snob, and I'm certainly not a prude but this kid had a look about him. It took me a couple minutes to realize what it was; he looked authentic. He really was what he was. What you saw was what you got.
I got a friend to get me some information and I wangled a date. Tell the truth I fell for him like a ton of bricks. He was just about everything any girl could want. He was handsome, he was polite, he was considerate, he was totally adorable, and he was ambitious. He told me how he was about to start his own business.
I never thought much about the boys who worked on cars, but I'd been to some NASCAR races. The girls I knew were almost as keen on the boys and men who worked on the cars at those races as they were on the drivers. Sure the big heroes of NASCAR were the drivers; like the quarterbacks were the heroes in college football, but tight ends and offensive linemen were hot too! I thought this boy could be the one.
It didn't happen. I had social responsibilities. I had a boyfriend. I belonged to a sorority. My family had plans for me. Cable called a couple times, but I was either unavailable or too busy to pick up the phone. He gave up. I moved on.