Deidra, David and Jillian

Author's Note:

This story has its roots in GeorgeAnderson's "February Sucks". However, other than cameo appearances/mentions of Linda, Jim and Marc, I've gone off the reservation.

The idea behind this post has been bouncing around in my head and was solidified by a meaningless sentence in one of the many follow up stories to "February Sucks". I contacted the author. We traded a couple of emails, and he encouraged me to write my thoughts. That was two years and three laptops ago. I've lost the emails and as a result, can't give the gentleman a shout-out.

I hope the author recognizes the premise of this story and our online discussion and reaches out to me.

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Deidra, David and Jillian

Because we know Linda, Jim and Marc's story.

"Ahhhhhh," I groaned. I had two hands on the hotel room vanity and was looking in the mirror at a face that had aged significantly over the last several hours. Gone was the navy-blue sport jacket and white and blue striped Brooks Brothers button down shirt.

Shame was the emotion that covered my face. There was a great deal of anger and sadness mixed in, but the drunken, shameful thing that I had helped facilitate was what stared back at me. As always, when I did something shameful, I thought back to the God-awful accident from two years earlier.

As I thought, "what a fucking mess," I heard my wife call out from the hotel bedroom, "Hurry up Dave. I'm so fucking horny; I might start without you."

I splashed some water on my face and dried off, before unlocking the bathroom door and walking toward the bed.

"I thought you'd be naked," Dee said with a husky pout. She is naked, laying back with one hand pinching a puffy pink nipple and the middle finger of her right hand teasing the swollen lips of her bald tight pussy. "I want the first one to be fast and hard," she nearly groaned.

Dee is a knock-out. She's smart, hardworking and has a body that craves sex. She had stopped taking her birth control pills a week earlier and we were planning on starting our family tonight.

While standing at the foot of the bed and being somewhat mesmerized by her middle finger dipping into her easily excited slit, I asked, "If he had invited you, would you be with him now?"

The finger that had been teasing her pussy and clit was suddenly pushed into her hole. A groan accompanied the penetration and Dee whimpered, "Please get naked. I need your cock and cum. I want our baby."

It's weird. I was watching Dee preform one of the most sensual and erotic solo sex acts of our three-year marriage and I wasn't rock hard. I asked again, "If Marc had picked you, instead of Linda, would you have left the club with him?"

A sexy smile appeared on Dee face as she rolled over. With her upper body laying flat on the bed, she raised up on her knees and spread her legs. Her heart shaped ass cheeks spread, and I could see her thick wet clit, pink pussy lips and her tight asshole. "You can fuck my ass as many times as you want, as long as you cum in my pussy. I want you to get me preggers tonight."

The palm of her right hand held her ass open as her pussy juice covered finger teased her tight rosebud. "I deserve to know," I continued. "If Marc had chosen you, would you be at his home, in his bed with your wet pussy and asshole waiting for his cock?"

Dee exploded, "You don't know anything about women! Every woman in the club was hoping he'd pick her. Of course, I would have gone with him. It would have been a once in a lifetime experience having sex with a superstar athlete. And then it would be over, and I'd come home and continued to love you like I always have."

Dee's face was beet red, and I suspect thoughts of sex with me were quickly evaporating, especially after I asked, "You would have come home and perhaps been pregnant with his child. Would you expect me to raise his child, since it was the result of a 'once in a lifetime experience with a superstar athlete?'"

She was dumbfounded and knew she'd fucked-up, as I turned around a re-locked myself in the bathroom. Dee quietly knocked on the door and apologized, while begging me to come out of the bathroom. I sat on the toilet, my mind swirling and my heart aching. Truthfully, my heart was aching for Jim as the enormity of my actions continued to seep into my alcohol infused brain.

I'm not sure how long the knocking continued, but eventually it stopped. I assumed that Dee was sitting on the edge of the bed, knowing that I'd have to come out of the bathroom eventually. My shirt and sport jacket were hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I quickly dressed and after checking myself in the mirror, opened the door.

Dee practically bounced off the bed. "I'm sorry. This whole night has been crazy. What happened tonight is between Jim and Linda. It doesn't affect us. Let's settle down, have a glass of wine and talk."

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath, until I let out a long sigh. "Dee, what happened tonight affects us a great deal and I need to think things through, before we talk. The one thing you've said that I need to comment on is that 'I don't understand women.'" It took a moment to gather my thoughts before I continued, "But I understand myself. I want you to go back on your birth control pills. I'm not ready to have children and after what happened tonight, I honestly don't know if I ever will."

"You can't be serious!" Dee was aghast.

"I keep thinking about Jim."

"He'll get over it! They'll stay together!" Dee nearly shouted with certainty.

The sound that came out of my mouth was related to a laugh, but not quite. "I think you're half right. Jim is devoted to his children in a way that I've never seen. There's a pretty good chance that he'll choose to keep his family together...for the sake of his kids. But he will never get over what she has done to him tonight. He'll be forced to live with that worthless slut of a wife at least until his kids leave for college."

"But Dave..." I could see the wheels turning in Dee's head, but she couldn't finish the sentence.

"And that's what you expect from me. If a fantasy stud seduces you on our date night, I'm supposed to let you go off to be his slut for the night." I did chuckle this time. "That's never going to happen Dee."

With a shrug, I said, "Enjoy the hotel room, I'm going to head home."

"You can't leave me alone here!"

"You mean like Linda left Jim alone? Or like you leaving me alone, while you sneak off with Marc or some other asshole and spend the night being his three-hole whore?"

"But I didn't get the chance!"

Dee's face turned red, as soon as the words left her mouth, knowing that she had fucked up again.

"I know you didn't, but you wish you had." I was moving to the door and was out in the hall before Dee had a chance to answer.

=====

After exiting the elevator and walking through the hotel lobby, I happened to glace to my left and saw Jim talking to a clerk at the check-in desk. Finishing, he turned and saw me standing twenty feet away. With fire in his eyes and clenched fists, he quickly closed the distance and as he did, I slowly put my hands in my pockets. I suspect that's the only reason he didn't punch me in the nose.

"Do you remember the weekend that you and Linda joined Dee and I for a mini vacation in New York City?" I asked the question, knowing that we each held fond memories of our time together that weekend, just two years prior. While Dee and I took regular weekend get-aways to the Big Apple, Linda and Jim had never been, even though they'd each lived within three hours of the city for their entire lives.

I continued, "What haunts me about that weekend, was the accident we passed, as we drove to the New Haven train station." The fire and hatred were starting to drain from Jim's eyes. "I think you were the first to notice that all the traffic on the opposite side of the highway had been detoured. It was like a ghost road. Cars were jammed together on our side and the north bound lanes were completely empty. We knew there must be an awful accident ahead, but I remember being angry as hell. I couldn't believe that a stupid accident was going to delay, even for an hour, our three days in the city. If I remember correctly, it took us about ninety minutes creeping along in the traffic jam to get to the accident on the opposite side of the highway."

Jim was following closely along with my story, as I'm sure the accident made a lasting impression on him. "Three vehicles. Two cars and a van." I was shaking my head. "Emanuel Church of God was stenciled on the side of the van. Each vehicle had tarpaulins coving all the windows, so we couldn't see the dead bodies inside."

I had been looking at the floor as I re-lived my thoughts of that afternoon. "I don't know if I told you, but I looked up the accident online the next morning. Seven people died...and I was worried about missing a drink or two, while we were stuck in traffic."

Looking back into Jim eyes, I told him, "I consider myself a decent man, but occasionally, when I do something stupid...something shameful, I remember that fucking mess of twisted steel and death and how I was worried about a missed hour of partying." I sighed and finished, "Going forward, how I acted tonight will be burned into my memory as the most shameful moment of my life.

"I'm not offering any excuses for my actions tonight. What I did was inexcusable. I don't know if it's possible to make things up to you. But I'd like to call you on occasion. I won't bug you, but if you need to meet someone for a beer or a meal, we can get together. We can talk or just watch a ball game."

There were tears brimming in Jim's eyes. There were tears on my eyes too. "I'd like that," was his answer and with a nod, he walked out the front door to get a taxi home.

=====

I'm David Wilson. I've had my share of good and bad luck and consider myself a middle of the road, friendly hardworking guy. I'm a "get your hands dirty" landscape architect with a master's degree from a top northeast University.

My Mom and Dad owned "Shoreline Rocks", a six-location decorative rock, stone and paver business that serves the shoreline communities from Narragansett, Rhode Island to Bridgeport, Connecticut. From early spring to late fall, we have eighteen trucks delivering rocks to spruce up commercial and residential properties. Our trucks are on the road from 5am to 8pm.

My niche in our family business is to design walls, patios and upscale backyard pool and barbeque areas that use our products. It was my job, at least until Mom and Dad died in a car accident on their annual pilgrimage to Florida each winter. I'd been running the business with the support of a fiercely loyal group of employees for almost three seasons. In some cases, we had the third generation of families as part of our company, and everyone stepped-up when I needed them most.

I met Dee at a large statewide Knights of Columbus event dedicating a new hospital wing at Saint Francis Hospital in Hartford. The Knights of Columbus is an international fraternal Catholic organization that each of our dads was active in.

Dee and I were waiting at a bar for drinks. We talked, danced and visited the tables of each parent. At 5'6" and 130lbs of energy, I fell for Dee quickly. Her dark black hair, gleaming smile, D cup and full round ass might have helped.

When dinner and the dedication ceremony were completed, Dee and I met up at the bar and snuck away. We spent the rest of the weekend at my condominium, fucking and sucking ourselves to exhaustion. Mutual lust turned into love, and we were married fourteen months later.

We settled in Cheshire, CT, an upscale town southwest of Hartford. Dee had a thirty-minute commute to work at her Dad's Real Estate firm in West Hartford. I drove between thirty minutes and two hours, depending on the facility I was working at that day.

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I reached our home in Cheshire twenty minutes after leaving Jim in the hotel lobby. My phone had been ringing non-stop with calls from Dee and several of our female friends from our group. I let the calls go through to voicemail and would listen to them in the morning. After quickly filling two duffle bags with clothes and essentials, I took off for the shore.

In addition to my business, Mom and Dad left me a small immaculate (inside and out) year-round home on the Connecticut shore. It is in the tourist heavy town of Mystic Connecticut and the backyard borders a private beach. The house was going to be my bunker. Whether it would be short term or long term was yet to be decided.

As was my habit, I was up early the next morning. I needed two cups of strong dark coffee and a ninety-minute walk along the beach, before I felt half-way human. I listened to six voicemails, mostly from Dee, telling me that I had grossly overreacted and needed to come home. The nine texts essentially said the same thing.

I texted Dee: 'I need time by myself to think. I'll be home two weeks from today at 2pm and we can talk. Please leave me alone until then.'

My mistake, as is easy to guess, was telling Dee I needed to think. Everyone knows, when a husband has been badly wronged, the last thing his wife wants is for him to think about it.

No one will be surprised that I wasn't left alone. Calls and texts started almost immediately. Luckily, I was familiar with an incredible technological innovation called "caller ID". My ringer was switched to vibrate, and all unwanted calls rolled over to voicemail. I was bombarded with calls for the next several days, on my cell and at each of my business locations.

I was amazed that it took five days for Dee to make the ninety-minute drive to Mystic and she wasn't alone. As I drove home that night, I glanced at my house from Route 1. I was approaching the entrance road to my neighborhood and looking over the swamp area between the highway and the row of houses and caught sight of two cars sitting in my driveway. Instead of turning in, I continued to a convenience store a mile down the road and called the Mystic Police.

After explaining the situation to the police, the lead officer asked, "What do you want done?"

That was a good question. After a moment's thought, I told her, "If they are sitting in their cars, please tell them to leave and not come back. If they're on my porch waiting, please write them a trespassing ticket." Trespassing tickets are common in tourist towns. It's the easiest way to help residents keep a small amount of privacy from out-of-towners trying to see the ocean view from their private deck. "I've changed all the door locks. If they're inside the house, it means they broke a window to get in. In that case, I'll press charges."

The officer gave me a hard look. She wasn't trying to intimidate me and just wanted to know, "Are you 100% sure?"

"I am," I told her.

She gave me a knowing chuckle and said, "If they've broken a window to get into your house, I'll book them for trespass, but not breaking and entering. They'll each end up with a $1000.00 fine, instead of a $125.00 nuisance ticket. Does that work?

When I asked, "lethal injection isn't an option?" I got a good laugh from both the cops.

I was surprised when the senior officer asked, "You don't recognize me, do you?"

I apologized, while admitting, "I don't have a clue."

"I'm Jen Wilcox. You dated my best friend Sally Cast one summer."

We spent a minute or two catching up and Jen ended by saying, "I truly hope things work out with you and your wife, but if they don't..." Jen thought before she asked, "Did you take over your dad's business?"

"I did."

"If it doesn't work out", she continued, "It's my experience that a good-looking guy with a successful business and a beach house will have another girl in oh...seventeen seconds. Good luck Dave."

As we'd agreed, I drove further along the coast to a pub for dinner. Waves is known for their gourmet burgers and ice-cold craft beer. It was a peaceful night.

Officer Jen gave me a call almost two hours later. "The coast is clear. Your wife and four friends were inside your house. They broke a pane in the back door to get in."

"Hey Jen, I appreciate all your help. I hope they weren't too much of a pain in your ass."

"They were loud and obstinate until the handcuffs came out. They cursed you and cried until they were released just a few minutes ago. I doubt they'll come back to Mystic, but you didn't make many friends tonight."

I laughed and told her, "I might not have made friends, but I did get reacquainted with an old friend."

"You're still a smooth talker, Dave. I'll let you buy my husband and I a beer, if we ever see you around."

"I can't wait. See you."

=====

The text messages and voicemails continued, but I ignored them all. I worked and thought about myself and my needs. I also thought about Jim and the hell he was living through. I call him weekly. To date he hasn't made any long-term decisions and really didn't want to talk. During my second week away, I did trade several texts with Dee confirming our private talk at home.

On the second Saturday, after our group's night out, I was approaching my neighborhood for my promised talk with Dee, when I had a weird feeling. At the last moment, instead of turning onto my street, I slowed, but kept going straight. I was able to see that our driveway was clear, and Dee had parked her car in the garage. The street seemed empty, and the only cars parked at the curb belonged to our neighbors.

I took a right onto Cleaver Drive, which ran parallel to my street. At the crossroad I saw a group of cars parked along the side of the road that were clearly hidden from my view. I recognized my father-in-law's car, as well as Dee's two brothers and sisters' cars, as well as several of our so-called longtime friends.

I back-tracked and was driving south to my new home, when my phone rang with Dee's new Wicked-Witch-of-the-West bell tone.

"Dave, where are you?" She asked.

I could tell she had her "speaker" option open and the group could hear me. "I've decided not to come."

Bewildered, she said, "We confirmed for a second time, just this morning. What's going on?"

"I confirmed that we were going to have a private talk about our future and not an intervention with your entire family and our back-stabbing group of friends."

Dee was immediately cut-off by her father who said, "Dave, I insist that you come back immediately. We are all here to help put this awful episode behind us."

"That's the problem Michael. Much of this "episode" involves Deidra's lying, as she's done today. I refuse to be lied too, by my wife."

"Dave," a new voice joined our group chat. "It's Linda."

I'll admit, I was stunned that Linda had spoken as I politely answered, "Hi slut."

"I'm not a slut," Linda insisted.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "How many times," I wanted to know, "Did you suck and fuck Marc? Five? (Silence) Six? (A sniffle) You'll stop me when I get to the right number, won't you?"

"Jim's gotten over it," Linda nearly yelled. "He's forgiven me and we're going to make it work, for each other and our family. Now it's your turn to stop this nonsense and return to Dee."

"Linda, someday we're going to run into each other and when we do, I'm going to ask you a question. The funny thing is, I already know the answer to the question. The answer won't be for my benefit, it will be for yours."

Linda demanded, "What do you think you know?"

I could feel the group tension on the other end of the call as they waited for my answer. "I know how many times Jim will make sweet, sensuous love to you verses how many times he will fuck you like the pig-slut you've become."

The roar that followed was deafening. Dee jumped in to stop me from further verbal attacks and somehow save the call. She switched off the speaker and told me, "Dave, I'll have everyone leave. Please come back at 3pm."