When We Were Married Ch. 06A

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I slowed and looked behind me. Debbie stood in the doorway. She had her shorts and a top back on. Her golden hair hung heavily around her shoulders, still wet. There was no expression on her face, none at all.

I felt bad for just an instant, guilty. Why, I had no idea. She wasn't mine and you can't cheat on a friend.

I started fucking Amy even harder and this time she did gasp and groan as I hit bottom, hitting her hard enough to bounce us on the bed.. I wasn't showing off. Or maybe I was. When I looked back around the doorway was empty.

Suddenly I couldn't hold back and I was gushing into Amy's warm center and she was putting a death grip on my arms as her pussy spasmed around me. Then I fell to lay beside her and we both tried to get our breath back.

"It never fails," she said in a whisper. "Guys get a whiff of her and they start squirting. I wish to hell I could figure out what she's got, other than the obvious."

I wisely kept my mouth shut.

When I got back up on deck I learned that Debbie had taken a water taxi into Miami with a couple of girls and guys. They were going to do a little shopping. I didn't see them again until 7 p.m., when I rode in to the small private airfield where CC kept his private jet waiting.

As I stepped toward the midsection of the plane I noticed Debbie sitting there in the window seat. There were seats set out in rows of three. I hesitated but then sat down on the outside seat facing the other window in the same row, directly across from her.

She looked toward the window and the front. Anywhere but at me. We didn't say anything for a few minutes as the plane readied for takeoff.

When we were in the air, I leaned over to her and said, "If I didn't say it before, thanks for twisting my arm to come with you. It was fun."

She still wasn't looking at me.

"I could see that. How long did it take that bitch to get your cock out? Thirty seconds? You must have given her a real tussle."

"It just came up," I said and I couldn't help grinning.

She turned to me and gave me a look that would have frozen water.

"I noticed you weren't wearing a condom. If you start getting any burning when you pee, see a doctor. That skank probably is passing around a half dozen known bugs and some that medical science hasn't' named yet. You'll be lucky if you just get the clap."

I couldn't believe she actually seemed jealous, pissed at least. I'd never seen her that way since the first day she walked into my room.

"That's funny, Deb. She thinks very highly of you."

If a look could have stripped flesh from bone, hers would have.

"I know just exactly what that scummy bitch thinks of me. I bet she told you I was giving Ramone and every other guy a blowjob and a fuck in the water, didn't she? Well, watch Ramone carefully when he gets off this plane and you'll see he's limping a little. That's what happens when you nearly get one of your balls torn off.

"I told the son of a bitch to let me alone but he wouldn't listen. He really thinks that if he just flashes that dick in front of a woman she turns to jelly. He's been reading and watching too much porn."

She turned her gaze back to me and said, "And you, you moron, you wouldn't take off your shorts because you didn't want me comparing your dick to Ramone. That was it, wasn't it?"

When I didn't answer, she shook her head.

"Guys! You think we walk around with tape measures and if you're a quarter inch shorter than another guy we're going to throw you back. If it wasn't so stupid, it would be funny."

She lowered her voice.

"Look, Ramone is a freak. Nobody I know of has got a dick like his. Anybody that hangs with us knows about him. Guys bring their girlfriends around and, if the girl is any way decent, their guy doesn't need to worry about being ditched. Of course, he nails a lot of the girls who pass through CC's. But..."

Her voice got even softer. I had to strain to hear her, but I heard every word.

"You already must know that I was with him - and he was fantastic. There is something..exciting...about being with somebody that big. But it wasn't just his dick. I...cared for him. I really did. I didn't go with anybody else while I was with him, but the bastard couldn't keep it in his pants and I finally realized he never would.

"So, I dumped him and I dated a few guys and then another winner got me drunk and doped me for that gang bang that you interrupted. I've been having a lot of luck with guys recently."

Her expression softened.

"I wish you had gone swimming with me. We would have had fun."

She shifted back to stern.

"But you would rather have been fucking that slut. They talk about me, but she's been fucked so many times by doubles and gang bangs it's a wonder you didn't fall in."

If I'd said, "it would have been a hell of a way to go," I think she would have slugged me so I just leaned back in the seat and I was snoring, according to her, before we'd been in the air ten minutes.

Of course, five days later I was on fire when I pissed and I wound up at the campus health center and taking pills and wishing that I wasn't such an easy lay. Debbie laughed until she almost choked when she came by my apartment two days later and she could hear me moaning when I peed.

"A friend would not take enjoyment in another friend's pain," I told her sternly.

"Just remember this the next time you start thinking with your dick.... friend."

The summer went by and we went out for pizza, went to a couple of campus plays, took in some movies on campus and off. Mostly we just hung out at my place, helping each other with our classes because we were both going full time all year, watching TV, talking about girls and guys and sex and life and what we wanted to do with our lives.

She was so smart it was scary. I'd always known I was book smart, but she was one of the few girls I'd ever known who could match me and didn't bother to hide how smart she was. I guess when you're built like she was and looked like she did, you could be smart and guys would still be all over you.

The summer went by even though I wanted it to stop, to stay. I loved every minute I spent with her and she seemed to enjoy my company. I knew this was going to end sooner or later. She could have been going out with a different guy every night, being wined and dined and having serious money spent on her.

I wanted to ask her every day and every night why the hell she was wasting so much time on me, but I could never get the words out.

Then it was Friday, July 19. I hadn't seen Debbie in nearly two weeks, which was kind of unusual. But I'd been busy getting ready for end of course exams as she had and she'd been doing stuff with her family, including going out of town to Disneyworld for a week.

I was still jerking off to fantasies of her as regularly as ever, but I missed her. I'd gotten to like her razzing me and grabbing a pizza on the spur of the moment and talking about anything and everything that popped into our heads.

She had called me a couple of days before to let me know she was back in town. As usual, we didn't make any plans. She popped in on me whenever the spirit moved her.

This time, I decided, I was going to be the one popping in. Let me take her out for once. Even if it wasn't a real date, it would feel more like one.

I had a 1969 Volkswagen Bug that my mom had bought in '80 and I had kept running. I thought it would probably be the only time Debbie had ever had the experience of squeezing into a Bug on a night out.

I pulled up to her sorority house, a two-story structure on sorority row. Or rather, I had planned on pulling into the drive in front but it was a Friday night and the place was jumping. I had to pull into a parking space nearly a block away. It was almost 7 p.m. but still fairly light.

I was walking toward her sorority wearing my best jeans and a short sleeved shirt and clean tennis shoes, thinking what it would like to walk up like a real date when I saw her walking out of the front door. She wasn't alone.

A tall black guy had his arm around her waist and as I watched, he leaned down because he must have been 6-6 or 6-8. She leaned into him and kissed him.

I stood there and watched the two of them walk out without letting go of each other. He took her to a white Caddy and opened the passenger side, giving her another kiss as she stepped in. It wasn't unwelcome. She stretched up to kiss him again. Then he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side.

I thought I recognized him. He was Owen Davis-Smith, junior center for the Gators and a lock to go with a million-plus contract to the NBA during the next year. I had even seen him play a couple of times when I'd been given tickets to a few Gator games.

I stood there in the rapidly dying sunlight, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming 18-wheeler.

I couldn't think for a minute. Why was I so surprised? Not surprised, stunned. Why shouldn't she be going out on a date on a Friday night? I hadn't called her, hadn't asked her if she was free. I'd just assumed that she was waiting by her phone for the pleasure of my company.

I didn't even realize what I was doing until I found myself walking back to my Bug, starting it and heading after them. It was stupid. She was out on a date. What the hell was I doing? But I followed their tail lights as they drove away from Sorority Row toward the city's Restaurant and Nightclub Row.

The traffic was fairly heavy for Gainesville but I stayed with them. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing, maneuvering automatically while my head was somewhere else. The Caddy pulled into Merriweather's. Why wasn't I surprised?

It was crowded but not full so when the Caddy pulled into a spot about two rows from the entrance, I was able to find a spot two cars over.

I looked over and through the windows of two cars I saw a blonde head and a black one exchanging kisses and then I saw her head vanish, reappear, drop again and reappear and I didn't need to be a genius to know what I was looking at. She had told me that guys loved her mouth and I could understand why.

Finally it stopped and she rose again and wiped the back of her mouth with her hand. They kissed again and then he came around to open her door. I just slid down in my car and they walked in with his arm around her. I didn't think I'd seen them separated since they'd walked into my view at the sorority house. It was as if they couldn't stand to be apart for even a second.

They vanished into Merriweather's. I thought about leaving. I was still thinking about it an hour and a half later when they walked back out to the Caddy. They were laughing at something. She poked him in the side with her elbow and pretended to swing at him. He caught her hand and pulled her into another hug. It wasn't even a kiss. It was the hug of two people who knew and enjoyed each other.

I followed them to Bugsy's, a pretty hot nightclub on the east side of town where they stayed until 1 a.m. and then to a private home on the city's west side near Highway 301. It was a two-story Tudor.

He pulled into a two car garage and closed it down behind the car. The lights came on in the living room, then in an upstairs room, probably a bedroom. After about 30 minutes the lights went off.

I sat in the darkness until 3 a.m. when I finally regained sanity. It felt like I had literally been out of my mind, not there, for hours. I tried to think back and remember what was going through my head, but there was only a blank there.

This was crazy, literally crazy. A girl I knew and had been hanging out with for a few months had gone out on a date, given some lucky, rich, talented bastard a blow job, and now was being fucked silly in his bed. It happened every night somewhere. She wasn't my girlfriend, my wife, the love of my life. She wasn't cheating.

No, she was just doing what any healthy, beautiful young woman her age should be doing on a Friday night and I was hiding in the dark, stalking her, spying on her like some jealous psycho. This wasn't me. I'd never been like this about any woman.

I drove back to my apartment. It was 3:30 in the morning. Two of my roommates' doors were closed, with the traditional tie around the doorknob. What were the odds both those bastards would get lucky while I was out playing Peeping Tom.

I'd stopped along the way and bought a bottle of Scotch. I sat in the dark, filled a shot glass and started sipping.

I felt the temptation to slip away into that warm and comfortable haze again but stopped myself. It felt like scratching at a scab over a bleeding wound. It hurt a little and made it possible to ignore the terrible pain just below the surface.

I had thought we were friends. We had joked and laughed together and once in a while she had swatted at me, or punched me in the ribs when I was aggravating her. But she had never hugged me like that, never kissed me except in that 'sisterly' way, never held me THAT way.

She and Owen were friends, probably bed buddies. Debbie and I were...what? Nothing except a girl hanging out with a guy she felt gratitude toward and probably more than a little pity.

But I guess I must have known deep down. It was why I had never gotten up the courage to pat her ass, to try to kiss her, because ours was a mostly one-sided friendship, one-sided on my side.

The asshole who was fucking Debbie was tall, athletic, rich and had a life ahead of him I couldn't even come close to imitating. I'd never had a chance from the very beginning, not from the night at the frat house.

Why the fuck had she come to see me? Why the fuck had she played at being a friend, joking about blow jobs and masturbation and keeping me constantly revved up, knowing she'd never touch me the way she'd touched that black bastard.

Half the bottle of Scotch had vanished and Mark and one of my other roommates, Dave, were holding me down while two girls shouted in the background. My right hand hurt like hell and my head was hurting from all the yelling. I didn't know what the hell was going on.

My tongue felt fat and heavy but I managed to mumble, "Mark, what....what..."

Mark had my right hand which throbbed with my heartbeat held down with the weight of his body.

"Bill, Bill, calm down. Stop fighting us. Just stop man."

"Mark...what....let me up....let me up..."

"I will, Bill, as soon as you relax. Stop fighting us. Can you relax?"

I lay back and realized I was on my bed. After a moment, Mark and then Dave eased up and somebody turned on the overhead light and I looked around numbly.

It looked like a tornado had swept through the room. The chairs were snapped and lay in pieces, the dresser had been overturned and the contents strewn around the room and there was a big, big damn hole in the wall next to the bed.

Mark and Dave warily got off the bed and left me lying there. Two girls in various states of nudity came up behind them to stare at me warily.

I realized my hand hurt so bad I wanted to scream. I looked down at it and it looked like I was wearing a red catcher's mitt.

"What-"

"That's what we'd like to know," Mark said, kneeling down beside the bed. "We were...sleeping..and all of a sudden all hell broke loose in here. You had the door locked and were throwing stuff around. We had to kick the damned thing down. By the way, you're going to have to pay for these repairs."

I looked at the hole in the wall and at my hand.

"All you," Mark said. You punched right through the sheet rock and I think you might have broken one or two of the two-by-four support beams. I think you broke your hand all to pieces as well."

Memory flooded back into me.

"Get me to the emergency room, Mark. I'll pay for all the repairs. I'm sorry."

"What happened, Bill?What in the world happened?"

"Growing pains, Mark. I just grew up tonight. I'll explain it to you someday."

Despite all the booze I'd had during the night, I was feeling stone cold sober, mostly cold. I wanted to shiver, despite it being in the 70s. After a few tense minutes, Mark and Dave helped me up and I staggered with Mark to my Bug.

I spent five hours at the Shands Teaching Hospital emergency room where I was x-rayed and splinted and told if I was lucky, I might not have done any permanent damage to the bones, tendons and tissues of my right hand and wrist.

I insisted on driving Mark back to our apartment. It was 9 a.m., the sun was shining and Gainesville was green and beautiful. He got out and was getting ready to come around to my side when I said, "I'm not coming in, Mark. I'll be back in a few days, but I think I'm going to go home."

It felt good to be alone and on the road from Gainesville back to Jacksonville, driving through the small towns and rural countryside of Alachua County. Then I was back on Jacksonville's west side and pulling into the driveway of the small, two bedroom house that had been my home for more than a decade.

I was turning the key in the front door when it opened and my mother took one look at me and gasped, then wrapped her arms around me. She was a small woman, but she seemed to envelop me.

"Oh, Bill...."

"It's OK, Mom. I just want to sleep."

She followed me to my old bedroom, which she'd kept untouched as if I'd never left. I didn't even pull back the sheets. I lay down on my old bed and collapsed into the soothing darkness.

I was disoriented when I woke up. The sun was shining through my bedroom window. Had it been only a few minutes?

My mother was sitting on the bed next to me.

"How long.....?"

"It's Sunday morning, Bill. You slept more than 24 hours."

I rolled on my back and held my hand in its cast up to see if it was still throbbing.

"Why don't you ever listen to your mother, Bill?"

I just gave her a curious look.

"I was trying to spare you. I knew she was going to hurt you, to hurt you bad, and she has. She will again if you go back to her."

I just looked at her.

"You kept calling her name out. I knew you were seeing her and I knew this was coming. She is beautiful and you're a man and I knew you were going to want her, but she is no good."

I lay back and took a deep breath. My heart was beating and so I was still alive. I'd survived the worst night of my life. I hoped it would the worst night I'd ever know.

"We're done, Mom. No need for more warnings."

I stayed in Jacksonville for two days and went back to my apartment. It was awkward wiping my ass with my left hand, I couldn't write worth a damn and driving was a pain but it was okay. Then she called.

Mark poked his head in my door the following Friday and said, "Debbie's on the phone."

"Tell her I'm not in. You haven't seen me today. No, tell her I'm visiting my mom in Jacksonville."

He looked at me with a surprised expression. I hadn't told anybody except my mother, and that an edited version, of what had happened.

"Tell her, Mark."

Saturday I stayed at the campus library till past 9 p.m. when they threw me out, hit a McDonald's for a late supper and saw a movie at the Campus Union, making myself as invisible as possible. I didn't get home until nearly 2 a.m.

Mark had a tie on his door knob but when I walked in he opened it, stuck his head out because he was obviously not wearing anything and said, "She came by about 9 p.m. and again at midnight. What is wrong with you, man?"

"Leave it alone, Mark."

I avoided her the rest of the week, once sitting quietly in my locked room while Mark apologized saying that I had been playing the mystery man for more than a week and they hadn't seen me much. Mark knocked a few times and finally told me through the door, "It's alright. She walked out and drove off."

He stepped inside my room and said, "I'm your friend and roommate, Bill. Explain to me how any sane, straight male could send that away over and over."

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