A Working Man Pt. 02

When I got there, he showed me hundreds of still photographs of us having sex from the last time. He had put cameras up in the room, intentionally, to film us having sex so that he could blackmail me even more. The still pictures were not bad enough, but he turned on the television and pushed play on the DVD player. Immediately, you could see me spread-eagle on the bed with Jesse's cock hammering my pussy from underneath.

I turned away.

"Watch, dammit," Jesse ordered. "This is where you started squirting the first time."

He turned the volume up, and I was filled with shame, as the slut version of me on the television screamed out in the middle of a massive orgasm, and liquid splashed from her pussy.

"Turn it off!" I screamed. I couldn't believe what my body had done. I was not in control. I hated what Jesse was doing, but my body reacted as if it couldn't tell I was being raped and violated horribly. It was as if a part of me liked it. I experienced several orgasms, each time, my shame grew stronger.

Jesse wasn't finished with me. He made me strip, and then he fucked me again and again. He told me he needed more. I wanted to die. The worst and most shameful part for me was that during the sex, just like the last time, my body betrayed me and I came. I came a lot.

He kept me in the room all day, fucking me every way imaginable. At six, he wasn't done, so I called Phillip to tell him I would be late. I made up some excuse about going out with one of my bosses for drinks. When I hung up, Jesse handed me a glass of whiskey, and I drank heavily, trying to blackout. He wouldn't let that happen, though, and cut me off.

At one point, I was lying naked on the bed, having just had my asshole fucked and Jesse seemed almost affectionate. That nauseated me more than the sex. "You know," he said as he rubbed my ass. "If you go away with me to New York next week, we can end this."

I perked up. "Do what?"

"If you go away to New York with me next week, for the week, and stay with me as a couple, like a real husband and wife, I'll leave you alone and never bother you again."

"Yeah, sure you will," I told him. "I don't believe you."

"I mean it this time. I'm actually tired of hurting you. I want something a little normal, just once. Something I can hold onto and remember for the rest of my life. If not, then we'll just have to keep meeting every week like this."

"You are a bastard, you know that?"

"I know. You don't have to decide now. Text me tonight with your decision. One week of fun in New York, or we keep meeting every week for who knows how long."

I wasn't sure if I believed him. Logic and experience told me that he was lying, scheming to find some way to fuck me over again.

Finally, around ten, he let me go home. I was still drunk, but he put me in the driver's seat of my car. "Drive, careful," he said. "Don't want you killing anybody."

When I got home, Phillip was up, waiting for me. I ignored him and went upstairs to get in the shower. As I looked at my nude body in the mirror, I noticed I didn't have any bruises this time. I got in the shower and washed, feeling a little better almost immediately. Either Jesse was not as rough, or perhaps I was getting used to it. Was I becoming a slut?

"Were you drinking?" I heard Phillip ask me through the glass of the shower. Shit, he had followed me.

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

"And did you forget your panties after dinner?" he asked. I could hear the anger in his voice, though he was trying not to show it.

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

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

"Oh," Shit. I had to think fast. "Uh, well, 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."

He stared at me as he processed what I had said, then replied, "Oh, ok."

That night, I texted Jesse that I would go to New York. Then, I made up a story for Phillip that I had to go there on a business trip. He wanted to go with me, but I, of course, couldn't let that happen. We got in a fight about it, and Phillip slept on the couch again.

Things were severely strained for the next few days. I was a nervous wreck the entire week. Phillip asked me about the trip several times, and I would get angry, mostly because he asked a lot of questions I couldn't answer. When I snapped at him, he would drop it and leave me alone.

Friday, he insisted that we go out to dinner. I expected more fighting, but Phillip surprised me by being kind to me. He took me to a great restaurant and plied me with wine, compliments, and romantic gestures. I assumed he just wanted to get laid until he brought up the trip again.

"Baby, why don't you ask your boss if you can skip this trip?"

I thought, here we go again. "I can't do that, honey," I replied, "It's imperative that I go for this training."

I could tell he wasn't convinced, as he was almost pouting. I felt so bad having to lie to him like this, but there was no going back now.

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

He seemed to give up, and we enjoyed the rest of the dinner. That night when we got home, I decided to reward him for being so sweet, but when I tried to get him to make love to me, he said he wasn't feeling well and slept on the couch again.

I had to do something to stop Jesse. He was destroying my marriage and my relationship with Phillip. I loved Phillip beyond imagining, but I had done so much that would ruin everything with him if he ever found out. I knew Jesse was lying again. I couldn't trust him.

If I went to New York, then there would be something else. He might disappear for a few months, but he'd come back. He always came back. I was sick of being his victim. I'd been the victim thirty years ago, when he raped me the first time, and I was a victim again every time he showed up making demands. I didn't want to be a victim any longer.

I couldn't see any way that this could end in my favor. No matter what I did, I would lose Phillip. If I didn't do what Jesse wanted, he would out me. If I did what he wanted, sooner or later, Phillip would figure it out, or he would give up and leave me. I felt trapped.

I had no options. I was desperate, and desperation makes you do bad things. The only way out was to kill myself or kill Jesse. That's when I remembered Phillip owned a gun. But how could I get it to New York?

I Googled it and quickly got the answer I needed. I opened the safe and found the gun. On a shelf nearby was a case for it, with a key in the lock. I had to unload it, but I had no idea how to do that. Phillip had said it was a Beretta 9mm, whatever that was. Back to Google.

Within fifteen minutes, I felt comfortable with loading, unloading, chambering a round, and turning off and on the safety. The rest, I would just have to wing. I unloaded the gun, packed it, and the clip of bullets in the case and locked it. I then put the secured case into my suitcase that I would check at the airport. I put the keys to the gun case in my carry-on bag.

Monday morning, I was up early and went to the airport. I declared the gun in the bag and had to fill out a form and demonstrate to the TSA agent that the gun was locked in a case and carefully stored in my checked bag. To my surprise, they never bothered to verify that it was my gun. They let me board the plane, and a couple of hours later, I arrived in New York, gun in my bag.

I texted Jesse that I'd arrived. He texted me back the name and address of the hotel. I got a cab into the city and went to the hotel. I walked past the check-in counter and boarded the guest elevator. There were a couple of people in the elevator with me, but I ignored them. I had one thing on my mind. I exited on the third floor, and two of the occupants got out with me. I walked down the hall and knocked on the door of room 322. The gun was now loaded and in my purse.

The door opened, and Jesse stepped out to hug me. I knew what he expected for this trip, so I hugged him back as the two people from the elevator walked past. I entered the room, and immediately Jesse was all over me. I tried to get him to stop and wait until after dinner, but he wouldn't do it.

My plan was to get him to go for a walk in Central Park after we ate and shoot him in the head, someplace away from other people. The last thing I wanted to do was have sex with him, but for my plan to work, I needed more time. So, reluctantly, I took off my clothes and got in bed with him.

To my surprise, he was gentle, almost loving. It was such a shock to me. He'd never been that way before. I almost regretted what I had to do. I did my best acting job to make him think I was enjoying it and even managed to kiss him without vomiting. He wanted to order room service and stay in and fuck all night, but I insisted we go out. I went to the bathroom to clean up, then we went to an Italian place near the park. I couldn't eat. I was so nervous, contemplating what I was about to do.

After dinner, Jesse wanted to go right back to the room, but I suggested we take a romantic stroll through the park, like a real couple. He warmed to the idea, and we set off, arm in arm.

"You know, I've always had a fantasy of having sex in Central Park," I told him when he again suggested returning to the room.

"Oh, well, if that's what the lady wants, that's what the lady gets," he said with a grin.

"But, let's find someplace more isolated, more private," I suggested.

A few minutes later, Jesse led me into a copse of trees, away from the prying eyes of others.

"Now what?" he asked.

"You said you wanted to be like a real couple while we are here. You know, there is something you've never done for me that a husband would do for his wife," I said, using my sexiest voice.

"What? Buy you a ring?"

"No, eat my pussy," I said as I lifted the hem of my skirt to show him that I wasn't wearing panties.

He grinned and knelt in front of me and started kissing my crotch. I opened my purse, pulled out the gun, and turned off the safety. I pointed it at his head and stepped back. It took him a second to figure out what was happening. When his eyes landed on the gun, they grew larger, and his mouth fell open.

"Was it that bad?" he asked.

"You son of a bitch!" I snarled. "Someone should have killed you in prison so that you never had to come back into my life! I've hated you for thirty fucking years. I hated everything you did to me, everything you took from me. I hated myself and lived with the shame of what you had done to me all this time. I was going to kill myself to make it stop, but I realized I'm not the one who deserves to die! It's you, you pig!"

"You don't have to do this! I'll go away. I swear it. I'll never bother you again."

"Bullshit! That's what you always say, but you come back every fucking time! I don't believe anything you say. You're a lying sack of shit. Killing you is the only way that I can get you out of my life forever." I pulled the mechanism back, to chamber a round, like you see in the movies.

"Please, Maggie! Don't!" he pleaded.

I pointed the gun at his forehead.

"Goodbye, Jesse. Rot in hell!"

I pulled the trigger, but instead of the loud boom I had expected, there was just a little click. I pulled the trigger again, and it clicked a second time. What the fuck?

Jesse started laughing as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets, showing them to me. "You might want these."

I dropped the gun and ran.

Chapter 19

I ran all the way back to the hotel and up to the room. I grabbed my bags and left the hotel, as quickly as possible, getting a cab. "La Guardia," I said, looking around to make sure Jesse hadn't seen me.

"Departure or arrival?" the cabbie asked with a thick New York accent.

"Departure."

"You planning on sleeping on the floor? It's too late to get a flight out, what are you nuts?"

"Then just drive," I said.

"To where?"

"I don't know, I just have to get out of here!" I shouted.

"Husband problems?"

"You have no idea."

"Alright, I'll drive, but you figure out where you want me to drop you. We can't do this all night."

I used my phone to find a hotel near the airport and had him take me there. I checked in and went to my room. I tried to call Phillip and tell him I was coming home tomorrow, but it went to voicemail. I left him a message, then went to bed. I couldn't sleep at all. I jumped at every sound, afraid that Jesse was there, with the gun, to kill me.

The next morning, I got up early and went to the airport to get on the first available flight home. I tried calling Phillip several times but only got his voicemail. I texted him, too, but he didn't respond. The flight got me back to Dallas around one in the afternoon, and the Uber took another forty-five minutes. Finally, I was home.

I felt instant relief as I opened the front door and called out for Phillip. He wasn't there. I could see a mess on the kitchen table and walked over to investigate. I noticed a pile of photographs with Phillip's wedding ring lying in the center.

My hand started to shake as I picked up one of the photographs. When I realized what it was, I nearly fainted. "Oh, my God! What have I done!" I shrieked as I collapsed to the floor.

It was a picture from the hotel yesterday, showing Jesse between my legs with my feet around his ass. We were kissing passionately as we appeared to make love.