Charity Case?

Evelyn was a beautiful athletic woman. In the minds of many, however, the operative word is "was." That wasn't the case for me.

********

A little background information about me, Rob Warfield, is probably necessary to understand the rest of this story.

I was a juvenile delinquent until about the age of fourteen. I got in fights constantly, because I was tough bullied many other kids, stole from stores and people in the community, and with some older "friends" once purloined a car for a few hours. I got "religion" when I was put in a foster home at fourteen because my parents could no longer handle me. I know that many kids have horrible experiences in foster homes; fortunately I was not one of them.

My foster parents were big, tough, no-nonsense people. I needed to toe the line. My foster father had been a lacrosse player in college and one of my foster brothers, a year older than I was, also was a lacrosse player. By working odd jobs I was able to save enough money for a lacrosse stick, my foster parents sprung for my admission to a lacrosse league, and I practiced constantly with my foster brother and father.

It turned out that I grew to be almost the perfect size for an attacker in lacrosse; since I turned eighteen I have been precisely 6 feet 1.25 inches [186 cm] in height in my bare feet and 196 pounds [89 kg] naked. To make a long story short by the time that I was eighteen and a senior in High School I was good enough to get a scholarship to a Big Ten school.

I started three years [sophomore through senior] as an attacker in college, got a degree in electrical engineering in four years, and got a number of lucrative job offers when I graduated. I met my wife Jasmine, a marketing major from an ACC school, shortly after I graduated. We got married when we were both 24, and were enjoying life as an upwardly mobile couple.

My wife Jasmine and I got to know Evelyn Simmons and her husband Bret when we moved to North Carolina when we were both 26 for better job opportunities. Evelyn and Bret are three or four years older than Jasmine and I are, and were the best looking couple that we had ever seen.

Female looks are often inflated in stories however that was not the case with Evelyn. I honestly do believe that at the time that we met her since she had been eighteen Evelyn was never in a room in her life where she wasn't both the most beautiful and sultriest woman there.

I'm not much of a judge of male looks, but from what I could tell from females' reactions Brett was virtually in the same class as Evelyn as far as looks were concerned.

While I liked Evelyn I do admit that initially she was a little "stiff," but she clearly was also kind and empathetic. Surprisingly additionally she was almost shy; given her looks -- and the fact that she was really smart -- that was not expected.

Along with Brett and Evelyn we got to know socially a number of other couples about our age in the Research Triangle area of NC. They included Cindy and Dale, Sue and Rick, and Mandy and Carl.

After we had lived in NC a few months, however, Jasmine and others of our female friends seemed to change. They seemed to be down on Evelyn. I had a hard time figuring out why until I realized that it was jealousy when I overheard a conversation in my kitchen between Jasmine and two of her female friends. I was working on a project just outside of kitchen area of our house and since it was a nice spring day the windows were open.

"God, Jazz," Jazz being the nickname for my wife by her female friends, although I never called her that, "that bitch Evelyn really frosts me. Do you see the way that my husband Dale drools whenever he's around her," Cindy snarled.

"She's the sexiest bitch around and always seems to flaunt her goods," Sue added. "Rick and I had the biggest fight about her after he was even more obvious than Dale was drooling like a lovesick Bloodhound."

"Rob isn't as obvious," Jasmine chimed in, "but just like the rest of the troglodytes that we're married to I'm sure that he's ogling her behind his ever-present aviator wrap-around sunglasses when he's around the bitch."

"I would love to take that slut down a peg," Cindy cackled while Sue seconded the word "slut" as she joined in Cindy's merriment.

Ripping Evelyn down and calling her all sorts of names that were both erroneous and uncalled for continued for at least another five minutes before I got sick of it. I loudly made my presence known storming in the side door and going into the kitchen finally shutting the denigration party up for the time being. "Oh Hi, Sue, Hi Cindy," I smiled pretending that I didn't know that they were there. "What's up?"

"Just some girl talk," Jasmine smiled back, graciously allowing me to plant a kiss on her cheek.

I chatted with them for a while as I drank a bottle of iced tea, then announced that I was going right outside the kitchen windows to do a few odd jobs.

Fortunately, Sue and Cindy left shortly afterward so the "pull Evelyn down" party broke up.

The way that the three had talked really pissed me off. It was especially galling since both Sue and Cindy had legitimately hit on me in the past -- I can easily tell the difference between hitting and flirting, and it was hitting -- yet they called Evelyn, who I had no reason to believe was promiscuous, a slut.

I was also disturbed by Jasmine's attitude. She had changed since we moved to NC -- or maybe the real "she" was coming out, because I never saw the mean, catty side of her that I had been observing the last few months.

Anyway, whenever our group of friends got together (the females would never ostracize Evelyn in mixed groups because of how good-looking her husband Bret was) I tried to be as nice as possible to Evelyn to make up for the subtle ways that the females shunned her. Evelyn never dressed particularly provocatively -- it's just that she had so much natural beauty, sultriness, and poise that she couldn't hide it.

*************

We had lived in the Research Triangle area about a year when a tragedy occurred. Evelyn got in a serious car accident and ended up getting significant facial damage and she had to have her left leg amputated below the knee. Even after several months of plastic surgery and rehabilitation she didn't look good, including because the left side of her face was scarred in a way that no plastic surgeon, regardless of his or her skill, could completely fix.

The sad thing was the way the other women reacted to her accident. While pleasant to Evelyn's face they seemed almost joyous behind her back. I wouldn't have been surprised if at least Sue, Mandy, and Cindy -- and I hoped not Jasmine -- were satisfied that "the slut Evelyn had been taken down a few pegs."

The way that Evelyn was being treated was not my only complaint. Jasmine definitely had changed and by the time that we had lived in NC about eighteen months and I liked Bret, Rick, Dale, and Carl less each time that I interacted with them. They had all played football at small colleges (Division III) and somehow thought that that was superior to me playing lacrosse at a Big Ten school; I never tried to explain to them how naïve that was. Power Five (which includes the Big Ten) conference athletes are typically in an entirely different class than Division III athletes.

Jasmine seemed less affectionate than when we got married, much more catty, and more concerned with material things. I talked to her about these changes but she either explained that her ideas were just maturing or that I was imagining them or that it was me who was becoming more sensitive.

As far as the guys in "our group" were concerned I only interfaced with them when we had social events with our wives. I joined a recreational softball league and started tennis lessons and developed another group of male friends who were easier to get along with.

***********

A first momentous event occurred about three months after Evelyn's accident. I had visited her several times in the hospital, had gotten her in touch with a great rehab facility, and she had been fitted for a prosthetic lower leg. I was jogging in a local park when I passed a secluded grove that had a couple of benches in it and heard what I thought was sobbing.

I interrupted my run wondering if someone was in trouble and walked into the grove. I found Evelyn sitting on a bench crying.

I walked up to Evelyn, sat next to her, and touched her arm before she even realized that I was there. She flinched when I touched her arm but when she saw that it was me she buried her head in my shoulder and continued to cry. I put my arm around her and just let her weep for a few more minutes.

After a few minutes Evelyn regained most of her composure, looked at me, wiped some tears, and said "I'm sorry that you had to see my self-pity party, Rob."

"I understand that you've been through a lot, Evelyn. If what happened to you happened to me it would take me a long time to come to grips with it."

"I guess that I shouldn't be so shallow and worry about how my looks have changed or that I can't exercise like a used to or wear clothes showing off my legs which I was previously vain enough to enjoy," she replied smiling weakly.

"You're not shallow, but you seem resigned. You don't have to be resigned -- you can have just as good a life as you had before."

"Not with this awful scar on my face," Evelyn huffed, turning her left side toward me, "or this artificial leg," she continued knocking on her left lower leg which created a metallic sound.

"That's where you're wrong, Evelyn," I continued. "Maybe you're not in the 100th percentile in looks anymore like you used to be but your still in the 98th percentile; and people with more significant need for prosthetics than you have are able to perform physical tasks just as well as average people."

Evelyn looked perplexed. "Why are you saying that when you know damn well it's not true? I look hideous -- at least Bret seems to think so."

I chuckled. She punched me in the arm and cursed "Not funny."

"Yes it is funny," I replied, "because you're a beautiful, sultry woman that any man would be lucky to be married to and if Bret feels differently then he's the one that's shallow."

After a long pause she remarked "You must be blind."

"No, actually I can see very well -- I've been blessed with 20-20 vision. I think that you need an attitude change. Tell you what; why don't we meet twice a week to work on your mobility. I'll accompany you anywhere that you want to go so that if you get into physical trouble or have discomfort I can help. Also, maybe my attention will get you to believe the truth, namely that you are still a beautiful, sultry woman."

Evelyn protested for a few minutes but then agreed. We started out walking along the jogging trail in the park, and when she got tired I carried her the last 500 or so yards back to her car.

We did arrange to meet twice a week for an hour or so to work on her mobility and I noticed after a while that she was wearing makeup again trying to minimize how stark the scars on the left side of her face were.

I made no attempts to hide my interactions with Evelyn from Jasmine. In fact I asked her along since I thought that another woman's support would be helpful. Jasmine declined in a dismissive manner. That did not sit well with me.

After about six weeks of our sessions Evelyn's attitude and mobility improved significantly. There was a major downer for her, however. She said that Bret was getting more distant with each passing week, and that she was sure that he was having an affair.

When she revealed her suspicion of an affair after one of our sessions I sat her down and talked to her about it in detail. After talking with her I wasn't convinced that she was right, but since it bothered her so much -- and since I had become good friends with her -- I offered to investigate for her.

"When do you think that he is likely fooling around?" I inquired.

"It seems to vary, but almost always early afternoon on Saturday," was her reply.

"Would you mind if I temporarily disabled his car one Saturday, you allowed me to put an electronic tracker on your car, and you let him use yours? In my electrical engineering job I had access to every type of sophisticated electronics that there is. I can easily find out if he's cheating on Saturday afternoons."

A look of realization came over her. "OK; what do I do?"

"You call me this Friday night after you're sure that he won't be using his car that night. You leave your side garage door open and I'll do the rest."

She got a big smile on her face and kissed my cheek. I smiled back.

************

A second momentous event occurred when I implemented my plan that Friday night going into Saturday. After getting a coded text from Evelyn "My prosthetic leg feels sore tonight; have any suggestions?" I left a party that Jasmine and I were attending using as an excuse that I was going to get more ice for the host. I snuck into Evelyn's garage, temporarily shorted out a crucial chip in the starting circuitry for Bret's car, and put a magnetic tracker in the rear wheel well of Evelyn's. It took a total of four minutes. I picked up the ice for the host and returned to the party.

Saturday Jasmine was out doing her normal Saturday shopping with Sue or Cindy, I don't remember who, so I was free to monitor the tracker on Evelyn's car while doing some computer work at home. Once I saw Evelyn's car in motion I hopped into my car and followed it. Imagine my surprise when I found it parked in front of Mandy's and Carl's house; right next to Jasmine's car. From discussions with others at the party Friday night I had heard that Mandy was out of town.

I parked in the next block over and surreptitiously snuck behind Mandy's and Carl's house. I couldn't see anyone inside the first floor but I heard noises on the second floor. It was risky, but I tried the back door knob, and found the rear door unlocked. I took off my shoes, snuck into the house, and snuck upstairs. My surprise was only exceeded by my anger when in the main bedroom I heard the sounds of sex and saw -- on the same king size bed -- Bret fucking Jasmine and Carl fucking Sue.

My instant inclination based upon my former life as a tough juvenile delinquent and my aggressiveness playing attacker in lacrosse was to bust in and beat the shit out of Bret. However, I was criminally trespassing on Carl's property so I knew that that would not come out well for me. Instead I took several candid photos with my smart phone -- the angles weren't that good, but if you viewed all of the six different photos that I took I think that you could tell who the four participants were. Jasmine's face was certainly clear as she rode Bret cowgirl, as was Sue's as she rode Carl. In one of the photos Bret's face was also really clear. Carl's face was not clear since he was prone and the furthest from me but it was his bedroom and if you knew him you would be able to tell that it was him. After taking and quickly reviewing the photos I snuck back downstairs, put my shoes back on, and left.

I had no doubt in my mind that the cheaters would switch partners after the first fuck.

Just because I had to do something I deflated the two back tires of Jasmine's car, then went to mine and drove to Evelyn's house. I don't think that I was ever more pissed off in my life; I was able to reign in my emotions only because I had developed other emotions in the past few months that I had never before experienced so intensely.

I called Evelyn on my way to her house, told her that I wanted to talk and for her to get out some booze if she thought she might need some given what I was going to report.

I only needed a brief conversation with Evelyn. At first she cried and said things like "I know I'm ugly and disabled now," but I snapped her out of it. "You don't deserve to be treated like that; Bret and Jasmine are assholes -- as are Carl and Sue. I have a plan. Can we meet early next week after I flush out some details and reveal it to you."

"OK..." she replied, wiping her tears.

"You have to be as good an actress as possible the next week or so to keep Bret in the dark. Can you do that?"

Wiping away the last tear and getting a feisty look on her face Evelyn replied "Yes -- I can."

"I'll fix Bret's car and then start developing my plan. I'll text you about meeting, probably Tuesday or Wednesday."

"Thanks, Rob," Evelyn said with a half-smile and a kiss on my cheek.

I started my new life by grabbing Evelyn and planting the hottest kiss that I have ever planted on anyone in my life on her lips while hugging her tightly. She not only didn't resist but returned my passion with her own zealousness. When I broke away I smiled at her, went into the garage and removed the short from Bret's car's starting circuitry, and then drove home.

*************

I was proud of myself for not acting exceedingly different with Jasmine the next few days. The only real way I acted differently was by not initiating sex. Jasmine was surprised when she tried to initiate it and I begged off, but she accepted my lame excuse because I had never lied to her before.

I was a busy boy the next few days after leaving Evelyn's house. I met her Wednesday afternoon at a café in the building next to her workplace. I wasn't sure that she would be completely on board, but I was ready to give the sales pitch of my life. As it turned out I needn't have worried about a sales pitch; with minor changes she agreed to everything that I suggested. We parted with as passionate a kiss as either of us ever had before in our life and when I left she had a smile on her face and a warm glow emanating from her heart.

************

My plan was to be fully implemented within three weeks after I met with Evelyn on that Wednesday in the café. In the meantime we continued our twice a week sessions, each time departing with a kiss rather than just a hug like we had the first several weeks. I did have to have sex with Jasmine to prevent her from getting suspicious but I just fucked her like the three dollar whore that she was, and she seemed satisfied. Everything went smoothly until a week before I wanted to pull the pin -- but the fly in the ointment actually made me happier.

***********

A third momentous event occurred on a Saturday night the week before my plan was to be fully implemented. It was a barbeque at Sue's and Rick's house with all of the usual suspects there. I was happy that this might be the last time that I saw any of the asshole males in our group.

While the women were doing something else the guys -- except for me since I didn't drink alcohol -- were each on their sixth or seventh beers and were swapping lies in the back yard. To my shock -- although looking back on it I shouldn't have been surprised given Bret's demonstrated lack of respect for Evelyn -- Bret made a denigrating comment about Evelyn that included a reference both to her "ugly scar" and "metal leg."

I couldn't restrain my anger. "Why you fucking asshole," I snarled. "How dare you talk about your wife like that." I followed that up with a few more swearwords some implying that he had an unusual relationship with his mother.

After initially being taken aback to my joy Bret did something really stupid. I think that his reaction was fueled by seven beers, his naivety that his playing football at a Division III school somehow made him tougher than me playing lacrosse in a Power Five Conference, the fact that other guys were there, and his asshole personality in general. As he approached me with clenched fists he snarled "I'll talk about my bitch wife anyway that I want, you pussy, and I'll mess up your ugly face too."

When his face got eighteen inches from mine I head-butted him in the nose, breaking it, causing blood to spew all over the place, and knocking him to the ground, where he lay moaning and groaning. Then my joy got even greater when Carl -- obviously fueled by the same things that had stupidly spurred on Bret -- swung at me.