Peace, At Last

The humor and satire version of a loving wife story.

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The comment section was full of Roderick's thoughts. Roderick Kaufman, known as "CanSellYou" on the forum, was a prolific writer, and even more prolific critic on the Literotica pages. What really got his goat were the cheating wife stories. He just didn't get them. Why on God's Green Earth would anybody have this fetish? It was absurd. He noticed it was the Brits that tended to really get into that genre. The UK sickness he called it. One step above cross-dressing. Fucking fags!

Roderick was a pretty good writer. His therapist encouraged him to write. She said it was part of the healing process. Roderick's wife also encouraged him to write. Her name was Barbara but she was actually Roderick's second wife. The first one, the bitch, cheated on him.

She got what she had coming.

Roderick had trouble connecting to women as a youth, but he thought he did a pretty good job of overcoming it. He had been molested by an uncle when he was only eleven. His therapist, the best the State of Virginia could afford, convinced him that was the root of all his problems.

Was it really his fault he called up all those high school senior football players back in 1989? It was just a joke, he had said. It was, at least at first. It was funny. He had graduated two years before. But he got it in his head to pull a prank.

He'd scan the local newspaper and find names of decent players for schools in the area. Then he'd call them up and claim to be a representative of the local small Division 1 program. He said the school was interested in them, but he needed to meet them face to face and discuss the program, as well as gather some vital stats for coach.

According to the police affidavit, Roderick had come to their houses and introduced himself as an assistant coach. He had on the gear of the school, and a clipboard with some official looking questionnaires. He also had a Polaroid camera. That's what got him in trouble. The pictures.

He'd have the "recruits" strip down to their underwear and he'd take some muscle shots. He'd show those fag jocks what funny was!

He told the players that coach needed to see what he had coming into the program. He didn't want to get a lineman and see he was too skinny. He didn't need a wide receiver that looked like Fat Albert. The naive 18 year-olds with dreams of gridiron glory were all too willing. And so in the end four players came forward, but in fact, there were six. Roderick took their pictures, the chumps, and they never heard from him again.

He was only caught because he contacted two players from the same team, who connected the dots after their interviews. A week after Roderick left they called the University, but nobody in the Athletic Department had heard of Roderick. They were horrified and ashamed to learn they had been played for by a two bit pervert queer. Unfortunately Roderick had left his parents' phone number with one of the players. It was a huge mistake.

Roderick swore up and down he wasn't gay. He claimed he was the victim of his uncle, and would the court please get him some help? Why, he'd prayed to Jesus every day. This was Virginia, and the judge showed mercy.

He did three weeks, time served, and had another 6 years of parole. This was in the days before sex offender status went on the permanent record, and he seemed to escape the situation with minor cuts and bruises from a legal standpoint. He also secretly masturbated to eighteen photos from the two other players that had been too ashamed to follow up with the police.

He considered age 25 to be his big breakthrough. Pastor Pitts was his second most important personal savior. Pastor Pitts understood Roderick. Many had accused him of exposing himself to women in public. He was a Pastor for Christ's sake! There were two occasions where maybe something could be construed, but it wasn't his fault.

In the first situation, he'd lost some weight and his pants were falling down. Why, once he was just pumping gas, standing there, and a silver Taurus driven by Jean Maxwell, Realtor, was waiting in line, and well, his pants fell down a little bit and she got a view of his wee wee and all hell broke loose.

The second time he was in the local JC Penney, just trying on sweatpants. He was just relaxing, it was a hot day, and the mall had great air conditioning. It wasn't his fault he was resting, pants around his ankles, when that boy just opened the door thinking the changing room was empty!

Pastor Pitts brought Roderick to his men's health prayer circle. Together with eight other fallen souls, they bonded and drove out the sexual deviance that were effecting all the men. Roderick met a woman, and finally engaged on what he believed a lifetime of marital bliss and a normal, healthy sexual relationship. Tina was the answer to his prayers.

Roderick still couldn't leave the state, due to the terms of his parole, but Virginia is for lovers, as they say, and they honeymooned at the Robert E. Lee Inn on the beautiful Shenandoah River. It was almost perfect. He was a little upset that the quirky owner of a local bed and breakfast seemed to stalk him, the ridiculous little homo. Roderick would have none of it, so one night he finally got him alone out in the forest and let the little queer give him a hand-job, and then he reciprocated by punching him in the nose.

Tina's family had a little bit of money. It was hard for Roderick to get a job, what with his record and no college education, but Roderick loved to write. He got pretty good at it. His therapist encouraged it.

Skip forward about fifteen years. Roderick and Tina had fallen into a sexless marriage. She wanted children, but Roderick just couldn't get it up when it was the fertile part of her cycle. Then, a miracle! She had become pregnant. Roderick wasn't quite sure how it happened, but he assumed there must have been some sperm that leaked out during one of his unsuccessful attempts. All it takes is one!

Then the baby was born. Imagine his surprise when it was obvious the baby was of African descent. There were shouts, recriminations. Eventually they ended up on Jerry Springer. The DNA confirmed the worst. The baby's father was Jackson Sterling. Tina and Jackson had met in bible study. The pain!

Roderick was arrested at an El Paso border crossing. Tina was tied up in the trunk. He thought he'd teach the bitch a lesson, get her into a Mexican whorehouse. Roderick had a good lawyer and made it into a mental institution. Tina had forgiven him and asked the courts for leniency. She divorced and went on to marry her true love, Jackson.

And so Roderick typed up his last comment of the day. Another wimpy story about some fag who wanted his wife to fuck another man! They were so annoying!

"Cuckie Alert! Quite jacking off to this filth and be a real man. Your wife must be ashamed."

He logged off, and his section was given their noon pills as they shuffled back to their housing unit. Barbara, his new wife, was waiting for him. Barbara was a 210 lb cross-dresser originally known as Bill. She was also his room-mate on Block H.

"Here you go honey, Pop Tarts, your favorite." The falsetto used to annoy Roderick, but he hardly noticed it these days. He gave Rod a hug and knelt down in front of him. Roderick sat on his bottom bunk and munched the treat. The door was closed so they had some privacy. Barbara pulled out Roderick's cock and sucked it. It was nice and stiff. Always was with Barbara.

It wasn't her fault she had a beard. The Therapist explained she was born in a man's body. Obama was President, it was time to accept people for who they were, even if they were 210 pound bearded women cursed with prostate massaging 7 inch cocks. Maybe he'd get that parole, but he kind of liked his rejuvenated sex life, with his new, loving wife. She wouldn't cheat on him.

If she did, she better hide her Norelco.