Snapshots Ch. 02

[Present day]

Of course it was raining. They say it always rains when you bury someone you love.

The expensive shoes Allison had bought me years before pressed into the soaked ground. I let them sink deeper, enjoying the feeling of dirtying up something she spent a fortune on. Obviously it helped take my mind off of the fact I was walking to my mother’s funeral.

I spotted my three brothers who had been too busy to come see Mom before she died, along with their respective wives. The only brother I forgave was Brian; he had been in London and Mom made us promise not to let on how serious her condition was. He wept openly. When he saw me his eyes turned angry. Now it was his turn to forgive me.

Dad was muttering something over and over again but I couldn’t hear. The drizzle turned into a downpour, thrumming on the umbrellas of the other mourners. The priest prayed but I couldn’t hear the words. The pulse of the rain and my own blood drowned out everything else. All I felt was the acute loss of the woman who raised me, who loved me more than anyone else, and the burning gaze of everyone around me.

They knew about Allison. I guessed my father told them.

When I let him know she wouldn’t be attending the funeral and why, he shook his head and turned his eyes to the ceiling.

“That bitch of a wife is lucky Carol isn’t alive to find this out. She’d tear off her head and shit twice down her throat.”

Then he went to lay down, leaving me shocked. It was hard to determine what part of his statement surprised me more- that he said something so violent about my wife, or that I agreed with him. For once in my life I wasn’t defending Allison Ledger.

I hated that my cheating wife’s disgusting behavior was overshadowing the final goodbye to my mother, the most incredible person I ever knew. I wanted to shout, I wanted to call everyone out on their disrespectful behavior, but above all I wanted to run.

Looking around, I was at once relieved and heartbroken Allison didn’t dare show up to say goodbye.

<+++>

[Seven years before]

We told my mom on a Wednesday that we were getting married. My mother clapped her hands and yanked out a bottle of champagne she said she bought just for the occasion. She suspected, she told me, when I started saving up money.

I laughed and kissed Mom on the cheek. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop. I took my girls in both arms and we all shared a glass.

My father came home from work and saw our excitement. He slapped a hand on my shoulder, kissed Ally on the cheek, and dipped my mother. She squealed with happiness and I thought everything in our lives was so perfect.

“Carol! We’re finally getting rid of him!” my father laughed.

Mom smiled and teared up, putting a hand against my cheek.

Later, after Allison went back to our apartment and I was helping my dad put together a new entertainment center, Mom called my name.

“Can we talk?”

I followed her upstairs to the kitchen, her “office” she frequently joked.

“What’s up, Mom?”

She swiped invisible dirt from the counter. “Are you sure about this, Kyle?”

“Sure about what?”

Mom’s eyes met me slowly. “This engagement.”

“Mom, you love Allison.” I was confused and more than a little upset she would question us getting married.

“Oh, of course I do! Like she was one of my own!” Mom was upset at the thought of me even doubting that. I believed her; she truly treated Allison like she was her daughter already. “I just- I just want to make sure you’re ready for this. Marriage is a big deal and you’re both so young. 21...”

I smiled and put my arm around her. “Thanks for worrying but you know Allison and I are practically married already.”

She stepped away from me. “It’s different. Once you sign that piece of paper, it’s different. After you walk out of the church, it’s different. Believe me. And Allison has had such a hard time. Are you sure the two of you are ready for this?”

“She wouldn’t have said yes, otherwise,” I sighed. I was growing irritated.

Mom held her hands up. “I’m making sure the two of you understand what you’re going into. You’re very young and you have a lot of growing to do yet. A lot can happen in your 20’s, honey, and-”

“Mom. Please.” I ran a hand through my hair, fighting frustration. “Please be happy for me. I’m finally getting everything I want.”

Her smile stretched across her face. “Okay. Okay, then. I’m so very happy for you, baby.”

She took my face in her hands and kissed my cheek.

+

A few years later, after we were basically an old married couple, Allison lifted her head up after reading a text.

“My cousin is getting married.”

“Which one?” I was distracted, trying to find a fucking pair of socks that matched. “The one who has a hairy chin or the one who ran away to Nebraska?”

“I’m so glad you care so much, asshole.”

I let out a deep breath and slammed the drawer. We’d been bickering all morning and I didn’t know why. I’d asked her ten times if I did something (you know, like leave the toilet seat up or interrupt her when she was speaking... something ridiculously trivial that women always get fed up with) but she just shook her head no and then passive aggressively ignored me.

We never usually argued, so I found it all weird and terribly disorienting.

I had enough. “Whatever is up your ass, get over it.”

She pulled her blonde hair up into a ponytail. “Oh my God, nothing is up my ass. You’re the one with the attitude.”

I finally decided to play nice. Arguing with her wasn't fun, which was why I never let it escalate.

I snuck up next to her as she read the paper and gave her a kiss on the neck. “I’m sorry. Tell me about your cousin.”

Allison put down the paper and stared at me hard. I saw her eyes flick quickly to a Cosmo magazine nearby- “Ten Ways to Prove Your Guy Cares”- and sigh.

“The one with the hairy chin which she waxes, for your information.”

“Thank God,” I smiled. “Anyway, is that why you seem upset she’s getting married? That she has a chin she waxes?”

She gave me a sour look which I tried to kiss away. Eventually she laughed and pushed me aside. “Okay, okay. I’m upset because she’s so young. She’s only 18!”

“We weren’t that much older when we got married, Babe. Sometimes it’s just right.”

She got strangely quiet and fingered the glossy magazine.

“Why do you read that shit?” I asked, unable to help myself.

Ally snatched her hand away, anger sliding across her face. Then she slowly let it fade away, never taking her eyes from my face.

“I guess I’m hoping one day they’ll have a good answer.”

+

[Three years later]

Not long after the reunion that would prove to ruin my life, my boss, Greg, came into my office. He shuffled some papers, glanced at my computer, then cleared his throat.

“Dylan Bullock is on line 2 for you. He wants to hire us to do some programming for his office.”

Greg sauntered out after and I fought the urge to fling my laptop at him. He drove me crazy.

I was so caught up with being irritated at him that I nearly forgot Dylan, the asshole from my youth, was trying to hire me for a project. I groaned, wondering what the hell he was up to.

“Kyle Tilly,” I answered.

“Kyle! What’s up, dude?”

Ugh. “Just working. Greg mentioned something about you wanting us to work on a project for you?”

“Ah, Greg. He and I go way back, did you know that?”

No, but it fucking makes sense. “No. I didn’t.”

“Oh, yeah. His dad and mine grew up together.”

“Small world,” I sighed, wondering when he was going to get the point.

“Indeed it is. Listen, it was good seeing you and your wife at the reunion. I almost forgot about you guys.”

Asshole. “Yeah, it was nice for us, too. So when would you like to meet up and have a conversation about this project?”

“Why don’t you and Allison come over to my house tomorrow night for dinner? We can all catch up and then talk business.”

Oh, shit. Allison would flip out. “Thanks, Dylan, but we’re going to-”

“I insist! I have a wonderful personal chef. He’s like... even on the Food Network sometimes. You guys can’t turn that down.”

I was silent for a minute.

“Maybe I’ll invite Greg over, too,” he added.

I fucking hated him. I knew what the prick was doing- flaunting his “closeness” with my boss, attempting to intimidate me for God knows what reason. I had no choice to but to stay cool, calm, and collected so he couldn’t get to me.

“Allison and I would love to come.”

As predicted, my wife was not pleased. She watched me do the dishes that night, her uneasiness obvious.

“It still really pisses me off how he manipulated me into saying yes to tomorrow,” I groaned. “He made my life- excuse me- our lives hell for four years, and after ten years he wants us to come over and have dinner with him? What’s gotten into him?”

I started the dishwasher and looked at Allison who was paler than usual. I thought it was because she would have to face a bully all over again. Guilt ached in my stomach when I recalled how passionately she didn’t want to go to the reunion. I forced her, thinking it would only last for one night, and now we were being coerced into dining with one of the worst.

“What could he possibly get out of it?” I asked her, never imagining she would have the answer shortly.

<+++>

[Present time]

Brian followed me outside. We stood there beneath the starless sky, beers in hand.

“You should have told me, man,” he sighed.

I inhaled deeply. Though the rain had stopped, it left traces of itself everywhere. The ground, the trees, the cars were all drenched. And the smell, that fragrant dampness, coated my lungs.

“Mom begged me not to.”

“I’m over that. I’m talking about Allison.”

I ruffled my hair in agitation. “Sorry I wasn’t fucking ready to rehash my heartbreak and humiliation with anyone.”

“I want to kill her,” he gritted out. “I want to destroy her for doing this to you. And poor Dad. He doesn’t know whether to cry or beat the shit out of her.”

A flare of wanting to defend Allison rose up in my chest, per usual, but I stifled it down. “I hate her.”

“Good. Listen, the best thing you can do now is fuck her out of your system.”

In spite of all the agony simmering in my chest, I snickered. “What?”

“Fuck as many other women as possible as soon as you can. She’ll become a distant memory, believe me.”

I shook my head and took a sip of beer. “I’ve loved her too long, man.”

It was so true to me in that moment. I looked ahead to the years beyond and I was so used to envisioning Allison there that now that I had filed for divorce and the proceedings were underway- so far thankfully without my presence needed- all I saw ahead was eerie blankness.

We were never going to have grandchildren together, let alone children. We wouldn’t celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary. We wouldn’t retire and move down by the beach.

We wouldn’t be “we’ anymore.

“Kyle. Grow a pair and forget your wife. I never liked her anyway.”

I gave him a look that very clearly said, “Fuck you.”

“And I have someone in mind for you.” He peeked over his shoulder and moved closer to me. “Remember Sasha Depsey? She was in your year. She was so hot. Saw her the other day and she was all over my dick. Thank God Tara came out when she did or I would have cum, swear to God. She asked about you.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek and mimicked a blow job, raising his eyebrows up and down repeatedly like a moron.

“You’re really disgusting.” I laughed for the first time the world shattered around me. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

+

Sasha came over unannounced a few days later.

Brian was obviously the culprit. She said he gave her my address and told me to come hang out with me. She was extraordinarily blunt.

She had an olive complexion and deep hazel eyes that stared me exotically over the coffee table I’d picked out with Allison.

Fuck, I needed to move and sell all our shit immediately.

“It’s been forever,” I said, handing her a cup of coffee.

Sasha was a bit “emo” in high school. She’d line her eyes in thick black mascara over and over again. Numerous bracelets would dangle on her wrists, she’d wear crucifixes around her neck, and the girls used to say in malicious whispers that she cut herself.

I wasn’t sure if she self-harmed back then, but all the rest was true. In spite of being deemed “weird” she was still rather popular. At least with the guys. It was really because, apart from the rumors she sacrificed chickens in her spare time, she was gorgeous.

Sasha cleared her throat, bringing me back to the present.

“Yeah, I skipped the reunion. Not my style.” She crossed her legs and I couldn’t help but follow the movement of tan thigh moving over tan thigh.

She wore a plum dress that brought out her skin tone and did wonderful things to those eyes. For a moment I let myself imagine the body beneath the fabric but I snapped my mind back from that road, so used to blocking out all other temptation as a Married Man.

“Well, it fucking sucked."

“Yes, not surprised. It sucked especially bad for you, I hear.”

Wincing, I rubbed my neck. “Everyone talking about it?”

Sasha nodded, her shiny dark hair flinging back and forth. Her glossy lips simply said, “Yes.”

“Whatever, I guess that’s typical. Let’s talk about you. Do you enjoy being a musician? It’s the violin, right?”

When she smiled, a dimple creased her right cheek. “Yes. But I play many instruments.”

“That’s great,” I said lamely.

“So, let’s cut the small talk. I never did it well.” She toyed with her necklace, drawing my eyes to her cleavage. “Your brother says Allison broke your heart. That she’s a cunt and a user. Is that true?”

I took a deep breath and bugged out my eyes. Truthfully, I didn’t know how to reply.

“I don’t want to talk about Allison,” I eventually stammered.

Her laugh was perfect, warming up the desolate loneliness of my now empty house.

“Fine. I guess you just want to fuck me, then.”

I spit out my coffee.

Her smile turned flirtatious. “Your brother said you could use it.”

My hand went through my hair nervously. “Fucking Brian. Look, Sasha, it’s great seeing you and you’re a very beautiful woman but my wife just decimated my heart a few weeks ago and the thought of-”

“Be quiet, Kyle. You never shut up, do you?” Sasha stood and ignored my stuttered protestations as she slipped her dress down, revealing her braless breasts.

They were as dark as the rest of her with luscious pink nipples that were hard and pointing directly at me, almost begging me to suck them in. Her panties were bright pink which were brutally fascinating against her skin.

“Just fuck someone for the first time in your life, Kyle.”

My eyes reluctantly moved to hers. “Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?”

Her teeth were so white when she smiled. “I like good guys gone bad. I love making them bad. And I would love the honor of being the one to turn to you. I had a bit of a thing for you in high school but you were already sworn to Allison.” She winked. “Your brother told me quite a bit about you. He seemed to enjoy the idea of us together more than you.”

“Sasha, I-”

“You’re hard, right? I bet you want to bend me over your wife’s kitchen table and screw my brains out.” Her thumbs flicked her panties. I was entranced. “Just call me St. Sasha. I’ll give you what you want.”

“That was corny,” I laughed, licking my lips.

She was right, however. I was desperately hard. My jeans could hardly cover the rapidly growing dick below. Sasha stared blatantly at it, giggling when she noticed me watching her.

“No, it’s not corny. I am the patron saint of cum.”

“I can’t do this,” I told her. The panic of being turned on was catching up with me. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course you can. You don’t think Allison is doing the same at this very moment with Dylan Bullock?” Her smirk turned cruel.

“Fuck you.” I stood up from my chair, not enjoying this game anymore.

“Mmm, yes please. Where should we do it first? The couch? Your bed? I’m game.”

I was about to tell her off when the fading sunlight caught the picture frame holding the image of me and Allison on our wedding day.

It was crushing. It was incomprehensible. It was over.

And I was furious.

“Go upstairs. Get on the bed.”

Sasha did as I commanded immediately, laughing as she pranced over to the stairs. “Aye, aye, captain!”

I followed a few minutes later. My dick dragged my mind behind it.

What would Ally think? She used to dislike Sasha. Said she couldn’t understand how a girl could be so slutty and not care. Ironic, now.

The girl was stomach down on my bed facing the door. Her splendid tits were against the mattress. Her ass was nice and plush enough I could see its slope clearly behind her.

Fuck, I wanted her and I was going to fuck her. I was going to get the ghost of Allison out of my life.

“Get on your back,” I hissed.

“No.” Sasha lifted her body so she was on all fours. “I want you to fuck me, not make love to me. Get over here.”

Her words sent charges down my spine. I tore my clothes off, my chest thudding with erotic joy when she gasped as my dick popped out.

“Nice surprise,” she smiled. “Thought you’d be average. Thought there would have to be a reason Allison would leave you for Dylan, of all people.”

“Shut up,” I ground out, kneeling on the bed and shifting behind her.

My dick ran across the smooth creaminess of the back of her thigh and I groaned.

“I’m just saying. She had to have a reason to go from someone like you to someone like that.”

I unthinkingly yanked her hair. She murmured, “oh yeah,” and I came back to myself, dropping my hand in horror.

“Come on, Kyle,” she whispered, looking at me from over her shoulder. “It's okay. You need this.”

“Not like this.”

“Yes. Exactly like this. You can do it. I’m not a virgin. I'm a grown woman and I want you to fuck me. Plow into me. Own me. Isn’t that exciting?” She lifted her ass so it rubbed against me. “Don’t you want to? Pull my hair. Touch me. I’m not a painting to be admired. I’m a body that needs fucking. So are you.”

The Kyle of years past was left behind in that instant, still probably debating with himself downstairs. He could stay there.

I took my cock in hand and guided it between her cheeks. She smiled at me. I felt the wet plushness of her pussy and slid in, falling against her back when she squeezed me deeper.

“Yes!” she gasped. She clawed frantically at the spread beneath us. “Yeah, yeah. Fuck me, baby.”

I put my arms on either side of her, pulled myself up, and began to thrust. I sped up when she demanded it. Sometimes I slowed down to fuck with her.

“You’re learning,” she half-laughed, half-gasped.

One of her hands buried itself between her legs, rubbing her clit and my dick alternately. I let one of my hands cup her ass, massaging the cheeks and fucking rejoicing in the waves her flesh made as I pounded into her.

I kept going at it, not knowing where all the stamina was coming from. Allison’s face materialized on the back of Sasha’s head. It was wearing one of her typical sourpuss frowns. I glared at the image of her at first and then I let out a belly-laugh.

“Enjoying yourself back there?” Sasha asked.

I ran my hand up the sweatiness of her back and cupped a tit.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Keep fucking me. Harder. And pull my hair. I like that. It makes me cum.”

I adjusted my weight so I could balance on my knees. Keeping one hand on her tit so I wouldn’t fall over, I let the other curl around those silky black tresses rippling down her spine. It was unnatural at first but she continued demanding it, vocalizing what she needed. It was so hot.

I pulled her hair so hard her neck extended and her head was pulled up.