A Working Man Pt. 01

I walked around frantically, trying to find Maggie. She wasn't anywhere inside that I could see. After searching in vain for several minutes, I gave up and decided to leave. I made my way out to the parking lot, noticing a commotion over by where Jesse had parked.

I walked over to see what was going on and made my way through the ring of people. Jesse was chugging beers with the other jocks. Maggie was next to him, with his arm around her. She seemed to be supporting his weight as he swayed and kept drinking. They were standing just inside the open door of his car.

"Jesse, that's enough, now," she said. "You don't need any more."

Jesse pushed Maggie back against his car, then grabbed her face in his hands as he snarled. "I'll fucking tell you when I've had enough." He shoved her back, and she fell onto the front seat of his car. Her skirt flew up, exposing her thighs and her panties. Jesse stared at her then let out loud laugh.

"Alright, I reckon it is time to go," he said as he turned back to his teammates. "Time to get laid, boys!"

He staggered in a circle and nearly fell. The car door kept him from landing face-first on the gravel.

I pushed my way forward. "Jesse!" I called out. He leaned around to see who had called him. I stepped closer.

"Jesse," I repeated. "You're in no condition to be driving. Give me your keys."

"Fuck you, asshole," Jesse replied. "I got a date, and she's hot to trot!"

Maggie tried to get out of the car, but Jesse pushed her in. "Move over, bitch, and make room for your lover boy." She struggled, trying to get him to stop, but he was too strong for her.

"Jesse!" I shouted again. He spun around to face me.

"I already kicked your ass once tonight, Phillip. Don't think I won't do it again!" He tried to poke me in the chest but missed and nearly fell. He pulled the car keys out of his pocket and turned back to get in his car.

I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. He swung at me and missed. I counter punched, landing an uppercut on his jaw that sent him to the ground on his ass. I reached into the car and took Maggie's hand. "Come on, Maggie; he's drunk off his ass. I'll take you home."

She quickly scrambled out of Jesse's car and got behind me as Jesse managed to stand back up.

"You son of a bitch! She's my date! I'm gonna kick your ass!" Jesse lunged for me again, and I simply stepped to the side and shoved him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

A couple of his buddies helped him to his feet. By that time, I had reached my car and opened the door for Maggie. She glanced back at Jesse, who shouted, "Go on then! Take the fucking bitch! She's a sorry lay anyway!"

Maggie got in my car, and I closed the door. I walked around to the driver's side as Teresa stepped out of the onlookers and took Jesse's arm. "Come on, baby," she said, "I'll show you a better time than that bitch anyway."

She kissed Jesse, and the two of them fell into the car. Teresa climbed over Jesse as he managed to get into the driver's seat and close the door. He started the engine, which revved loudly, then peeled out of the parking lot and onto the blacktop.

Maggie was shaking, so I put my arm around her. "You alright, Maggie?" I asked.

She raised her face and kissed me square on the lips. "I am now," she replied, then kissed me again. I kissed her back, hard, and found myself melting into the kiss. I'd never experienced anything like it before. Her tongue was soft and warm in my mouth. We had done it once, back when we were twelve when we played seven minutes in heaven. I had been so embarrassed back then I'd apologized to her for two days.

As I pulled away to catch my breath, Maggie said breathlessly, "I love you, Phillip Anderson."

My heart soared and felt like it had just left my body. I smiled broadly and replied, "I love you, too, Maggie Gentry."

"I need you to make love to me, Phillip," she exclaimed. "I need it more than I need air. I've waited my whole life for you to love me, and now I need you to take my virginity. I never wanted anyone else to have it. I desperately want you to take it. Please, make love to me."

"I-I don't have any condoms," I said nervously.

"I don't care," she replied as she began to tug on my hard cock through my pants. "I love you."

I was utterly overwhelmed with lust and desire. We climbed into the back seat and began tearing each other's clothes off. The next thing I knew, we were naked, and I was between her legs. I held my cock in my fist, the head placed against her pussy. She gasped and clung to me as I slowly pushed into her for the first time. Maggie winced, and her face showed the discomfort she was feeling. I stopped and pulled back a bit. Her eyes shot open, and she called out, "It's ok! Don't stop, but go slow."

I slowly worked my cock into her. Her pussy felt incredibly tight and hot around my dick. I'd never felt anything like it. Jerking off was nothing like this. No wonder everyone was obsessed with doing it. I began to thrust slowly. Maggie shifted under me, spreading her legs wider, and wrapping her feet around my ass. She groaned and kissed me passionately.

I thrust harder, and she cried out. I thought I'd hurt her, but she kissed me harder and lifted her hips, driving her pussy onto my cock harder. I knew I wouldn't last much longer, but then something happened that sent me over the edge. Maggie tensed, clawed my back and cried out in the throes of orgasm. Her pussy spasmed, gripping me frantically. Suddenly, I came, shooting my seed into her pussy. That only seemed to drive her to further levels of pleasure as her orgasm continued.

Finally, we both collapsed, gasping for air, overwhelmed with what we had just experienced. I kissed Maggie lovingly and cuddled her protectively.

"I love you, Maggie," I whispered. She held on tighter to me, and I would swear it seemed that she was crying. I didn't know why, but I simply held her and loved her.

Something was tickling my face. It was annoying. I tried to ignore it, but the sensation only grew stronger. I opened my eyes, and sunlight was streaming through the back window, blinding me. I stirred, but my body was stiff and sore all over, unwilling to obey my brain's commands to move. Hair brushed my cheek again, which explained the tickling sensation. I wiped it away, then realized to whom the hair belonged.

Suddenly, the lyrics to the Everly Brothers song filled my brain. Oh Shit!

"Maggie!" I called out as I gently shook her shoulder. "Wake up! We fell asleep!"

Maggie opened her eyes and glanced around, confused. Then the realization of what we had done hit her.

"Oh, no!" she snapped as she sat up. She was naked. I then realized I was naked, too. We both started grabbing clothes and pulling them on as rapidly as we could.

I checked my watch; It was five after seven in the morning. We had slept there the whole night. Our parents were going to kill us.

I climbed into the front seat and recovered my pants and shoes. Maggie was repeating, "Oh my God," over and over. She had the more difficult job to do. I only had to pull the suit back on; She had to get back into her prom gown. We finally had to open the doors to have enough room to dress properly.

The parking lot was empty. I started the car as Maggie did her best to fix her hair, then headed to her place. We were both terrified, but at the same time, we couldn't help but laugh. We were struck with the chuckles until I turned onto her street, and we saw the police car parked in front of her house.

"Oh shit!" I said. "Your dad called the cops. I'm dead."

I pulled into the driveway, and Maggie jumped out. "You should go!" she told me, leaning through my window to kiss me.

Before I could back out, her father came running out of the house, followed by two uniformed police officers. "Where the Hell have you been?" he demanded.

I expected him to go into an angry tirade, but instead, he grabbed Maggie and hugged her tightly. He was crying. "You're alright!" he said through his tears. Her mother came out, with, to my shock, my parents. I opened the door and stepped out. My mother ran to me and threw her arms around me.

I looked at my father. "What's going on?" I asked.

"You two didn't come home last night, so we were scared. After what happened, we were scared to death."

"What happened?" I asked.

"You didn't hear?" Dad asked. When I shook my head, he told me.

"Jesse Milner was drunk last night out on Old Sherman Road. He ran a stop sign and hit another car. They figure he must've been going eighty."

"Is he alright?" I asked.

"He's in critical condition at the hospital." I could tell he wanted to say more.

Maggie, overhearing our conversation, asked, "What about Teresa? Is she ok?"

Dad looked down. "She's dead, along with the couple and their two-month-old baby in the other car. They're all dead."

Chapter 3

Jesse survived the wreck but was a mess. His face was severely scarred, and he suffered mild brain damage. The worse part was his legs. The impact crushed both of them, leaving him with a severe limp for the rest of his life. Needless to say, he had thrown away his future athletic career. But, he lived, unlike four other souls who perished due to his drunken irresponsibility.

For that, Jesse got twenty-five to life in prison.

Maggie and I were surprised that neither of us got in trouble for staying out all night. I guess the accident made our parents happy that we came home in one piece. The school year ended, and Maggie and I were both looking forward to the fall and college. We decided to go to UT and looked forward to developing our relationship and enjoying our college years together.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. Shortly after school got out, Maggie found out she was pregnant. The best we could figure, it had to have been the night of prom when we fell asleep right after having sex. That was the only time I'd not used a condom.

We got married right away. I kept my job at the hardware store, and after about a year was made manager. Maggie gave up her dream of college, at least for a while, and focused on being the best wife and mother she could be. We named our first daughter Teresa but called her Terri. I had suggested naming it Jesse if it had been a boy, but Maggie would have none of that. Two years after Terri came along, we had another daughter named Pam, then a year later, a boy named Joey.

We were the typical middle-class American family. I made a good salary and bought us a lovely house in a new neighborhood. Neither of us went to college or fulfilled our dreams, but we were happy. That was good enough for us.

Our kids grew up healthy, well-adjusted, and well-educated. Terri went to UT, which thrilled both Maggie and I. we could live vicariously through her. In her sophomore year, she brought her special friend home for Thanksgiving, and we learned that our daughter was a lesbian.

The next year, Pam went to Baylor. Her dream was to become a doctor. Our son, Joey, had been an academic all-American in high school and had received an appointment to the Naval Academy upon graduating. He would eventually go on to be a combat pilot.

During the intervening years, the hardware store had prospered, becoming well-known as kind of the antithesis of the bix box stores. I developed the store into a model for a nationwide franchise. Three years later, we were rolling in money.

Maggie and I always had a great sex life. We enjoyed intimacy two or three times a week, sometimes more. The sex was intense, passionate, and highly pleasurable for both of us. I never felt we were in a rut, as we kept things spontaneous. We communicated very openly about what we liked and didn't like, and our fantasies. We would often go out of our way to make sex special and new.

I never once even thought about cheating on Maggie. Why should I? She kept me very satisfied and never turned me down for fun. There was nothing that I wanted to do that she ever denied me, including deep throat, swallowing, and trying anal. We both liked the first two and were ambivalent about the third.

As the kids got older, Maggie grew increasingly bored and unfulfilled. She started taking night classes at the local community college, planning to eventually transfer to SMU to get a degree in youth counseling. Shortly after that, things began to change.

At first, she seemed so excited and enthusiastic about her classes. Maggie would come home and tell me all about her lesson, the people she met, everything. Her excitement was contagious, and I shared her happiness.

Then, one night she came home from class in a funk. She didn't want to talk about her day and told me she was considering quitting school. I tried to help her, but it was clear she wanted to work through whatever it was on her own. For the next couple of weeks, Maggie seemed depressed. She was moody and often grumpy. Many times I would find her sitting alone, usually in the dark, and often she would be crying.

She told me it was just the stress of school, but I figured there had to be more to it than that. The harder I tried to support her and comfort her, the more she would pull away. So, after a few days, I gave up and let her have space. That seemed to help, and after a couple more weeks, she was practically back to being her old self.

Time passed, and I put the strange behavior behind us. Something was still wrong, but Maggie did her best to hide it. When she transferred to SMU, things got worse. She began spending more and more time at the University, in study groups, working on projects, or doing research in the library.

Many times, I tried to initiate sex, and she wasn't interested. She always had some excuse. She was tired. She had a project due. She needed to get sleep for a big test the next day. The frequency and quality of our sex deteriorated to once a week, once every two weeks, even to once a month or so.

I brought it up to her, thinking we had always had very open channels of communication. She got pissed and asked me if sex was the only thing men ever wanted. That comment hurt me deeply because I had never been pushy with her about sex. It had always been something we both enjoyed equally.

After she graduated, she got a job in Dallas, working for a counseling service. She planned to work there for four years, then start her own private practice. She immersed herself in her work, putting in fifty to sixty hours a week. She worked late almost every night and would often have meetings or client sessions in the evenings and on weekends.

I didn't complain, but I wasn't happy. I was also growing concerned that Maggie might be having an affair. There were a lot of little signs, but the biggest one was our sex life had come to a stop. A couple of times, I had tried to touch her, and she cringed. She literally cringed.

One Monday, she called me to let me know she would be late. Around eleven, she came into the house, and I could smell alcohol on her breath. She blew past me and went upstairs without even acknowledging I existed. I went up a few minutes later and found her in the shower. I decided to check her underwear for some sign of infidelity. I went to the hamper and found her slack suit, bra, a slip, but no panties.

"Were you drinking?" I asked her through the steam covered glass.

"Don and I had dinner to talk about his plans for next year," she explained. "I had a couple of glasses of wine. That's all."

"And did you forget your panties after dinner?" I asked, arms crossed over my chest.

"What?" she asked, wiping the steam off the glass so that we could see each other.

"I was going to do laundry," I lied. "Your clothes from today were in the hamper, but no panties."

"Oh, I started my period today. I wasn't expecting it, so I made a mess. I threw the panties away, and that's why I wanted to take a shower."

That seemed plausible. I let it go for the time being, but later that evening, my suspicion grew even stronger when Maggie told me she was going out of town for a week on a business trip to New York for some training. She'd never done that before. She would be leaving the following Monday and come back Friday night.

"Wow," I said. "I hate to be away from you that long. Why don't I go with you?"

She stared at me for a minute as she thought of an excuse. "Oh, no, I'm going to be so busy that we won't have any time together."

"That's ok," I explained. "I don't mind. It's New York; I can find something to do while you're in class."

"I'll have to go to dinner with my co-workers too, so we really won't have time to hang out."

"That's ok, really it is. I just don't want to be away from you that long."

"That's sweet honey, but I'll be ok. It's only for a few days."

"You may be ok, but what about me?"

"You're a big boy. I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I'm sure I would be fine, but that's not the point," I told her, growing agitated. "It sounds like you just don't want me to go. What's going on?"

"It's not like that at all. You're just blowing it out of proportion. I'm a grown woman Phillip, but I've lived my whole life depending on someone else. This trip is the first chance for me to do something on my own, to prove I can do it. It's important to me. I'd rather you didn't go, this time."

I tried to argue, but she cut me off.

"And you pushing to go with me just makes me feel like you don't trust me."

I didn't trust her! That was the point, but I couldn't let her know that.

"I trust you, honey. It's everyone else that I don't trust."

"I need to do this, Phillip."

"Ok, ok," I relented.

I slept on the sofa that night. The next morning, I called a private investigator and had them begin surveillance of my loving wife. By 3:00 that Tuesday, they had enough evidence to indicate that Maggie was lying. She was not going on a business trip. She'd turned in a vacation request for next week. Apparently, it was quite sudden, and it pissed her boss off. The PI also found out where she would be staying. They asked if I wanted them to go to New York and get evidence while she was there. It was expensive, but I had to know, so I said yes.

Things for the next couple of days were strained with Maggie. She acted as if she were walking on eggshells. On Friday, I insisted she go out with me for dinner. I wined and dined her, showering her with love and affection. She seemed happier than she'd been in months.

I tried to talk her out of going.

"Baby," I told her. "Why don't you ask your boss if you can skip this trip?"

"I can't do that, honey," she replied, looking concerned. "It's imperative that I go for this training."

"Just let me go do this, Phillip. It's only a week. I promise things will be different when I get back."

Her refusal convinced me that she was determined to go away with her boyfriend. I gave up trying. When we got home, Maggie invited me to come to bed and make love to her. I told her I wasn't feeling well and slept on the sofa again.

Monday morning, she was up early and took an Uber to the airport. I didn't say goodbye. Tuesday, the PI called and had a full report.

"Can you send it to me?" I asked.

"I think you better come here to see what we have," he insisted.

That afternoon I sat down, dreading what I was about to see. The PI pulled out a manilla folder and slid it across the table to me. I opened it to find a stack of 8x10 photographs. The first two didn't show anything too damning, just arriving at a hotel in Manhattan, and knocking on the door to room 322.

The third picture caused my marriage to end.

I stared at in shocked disbelief. The door was open, and my wife was in the arms of a man. Even though scars covered his face, and he was much older than I remembered, I instantly recognized him.

Maggie was in the arms of Jesse Milner.