Fac Ut Vivas

If you want then, yes, we can go through this whole thing again. I don’t know what’s going on here. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why all this is happening.

For the tenth time, my name is Michelle -------. I’m 36 years old, and I live with my husband, Greg ------- at 200 ---- -------, -----, Texas, -----.

I’ve known Greg for twenty years. We moved around a lot – my family, I mean – because my Dad was in the Army. I was a typical army brat. Didn’t spend a lot of time at any one place. I suppose, when we settled down after my Dad got out of the army, that Greg was the first attachment I made that seemed permanent. We met when I started Johnson High. He was a big, goofy-looking senior, and I was this quiet little sophomore that would have about died if you said boo to her. We went on our first date in November of that year and we’ve been together ever since. I lost my virginity to him when I was nineteen. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with. If it hadn’t been for that bitch trying to steal him away from me, things would have been just fine.

So far as I know, it started about a year ago. Greg was staying at work a little later every night, but I didn’t think anything was wrong. Not until a few weeks went by, and he had to take a sudden business trip. Had to go to Chicago, he told me. That’s when I started to suspect he was cheating. While he was gone, I decided I’d find out for myself.

When he arrived back, I pretended everything was just fine, and we fucked for the first time in a week. It was sensational. I’ve read that when a spouse is cheating, the home sex, ironically enough, gets better. The cheating spouse is compensating in an attempt to reduce his or her partner’s suspicions. Greg’s cock was a ramrod that night. We fucked for hours. Probably the best sex we’d had in a couple of years. But I still had my suspicions.

The next day, I followed him – gave him some story about being too sick to go to work, and drove to his place about an hour after he’d have started. It was at lunchtime that I saw him leave the building with her. That bitch. I knew she was the one instantly. I could tell in their body language. Greg had never been so relaxed with me. I really didn’t need to see any more. I drove home and took one of Greg’s shirts and spent the afternoon cutting it into pieces. I threw them away before he came back that night.

Yes, I have had psychological counseling in the past. A few years ago. I don’t really remember when. No, I’m not sure what the doctor’s name was. Rajnesh? Could have been. Sounds familiar.

Do I have problems sleeping? Why would you ask me something like that? I sleep just fine, I – I have problems sleeping, yes. I don’t sleep well at all, not since. Since. There was an accident. I told you about that before. I haven’t slept well since the accident.

Can I get back to the story? Thank you.

Her face was burned into my mind. Into my retinas, or something like that. I saw her face every time I closed my eyes. Burned there, like when you don’t shut off your computer and the same page is there forever. Forever. Blonde. Pretty. Green eyes. When I saw her she was wearing a ponytail. He worked with her. Spent five days a week with her. And we only saw each other for a few hours each evening before bed.

Yes, I was angry.

I went to where they worked again late in the afternoon one day, but this time I followed her. She had a nice Acura. A blue one. It was easy to keep track of as I followed her home. I kept a couple of cars behind her so she wouldn’t see me. Traffic was bad that night, I remember.

I followed her to the north suburbs, and parked across the street from her. I watched her as she got out of her car, and went inside. I took a note of the address, then drove away.

A couple of nights later, I told Greg that I was going out with some friends. He had plans that night, but I told him that it was a friend’s going away party, and he was okay with that. I figured he had made plans with her. Of course, I didn’t have any going away party. I drove to her house and just sat there. It was raining hard by the time I got to her house. The lights were on. I could see her through her big living room window sometimes. I don’t know how long I sat there, but then she left the house and got into her car. I followed her, thinking she was going straight to my house, but she didn’t. She turned into the parking lot of a big grocery store. I did something foolish then. I should have just waited for her to come out, but I didn’t. I got out too and followed her inside.

I thought I’d made a big mistake when I couldn’t see her. I thought I’d spend so much time looking for her in there that she’d leave and drive away without me knowing. I looked down a couple of aisles, but she was nowhere to be seen. I panicked. I turned to go, hoping that she’d at least just be getting into her car when someone came around the corner and I bumped into them. It was her, or course. Her basket fell, and a jar of olives smashed on the floor. “I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t actually know it was her until I looked at her.

“That’s okay,” she said. I watched her when she knelt to pick up her groceries, then realized I was watching her. I knelt down to help her. “I got them,” she said.

“No, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I didn’t look where I was going.” I put the groceries back in her basket. I looked at her as I did so. She was pretty. Her hair was down this time, and she wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup. She didn’t look as if she was buying for an intimate dinner. Ice cream, chips. Comfort food. I looked at her ring finger, which was bare, as I’d expected. I wasn’t sure what to do next. It was uncomfortable. I apologized again, and walked away.

I was about to leave, when I noticed she was waiting at the 12-or-less-items aisle. She’s surely be suspicious if I just left without buying anything, so I grabbed a bottle of wine from the end of the aisle and got in line at the express checkout next to hers. While I was waiting, I glanced across at her, and she looked around at me. We exchanged those quick, uncomfortable nods that pass between strangers, and I moved forward a few steps. After a few more seconds, I looked to see where she was again, hoping she wouldn’t be too far ahead of me. I needed to see where she was going – she very well could have been heading back to my house for all I knew. It wouldn’t have taken much for Greg to call her to tell her I was going out. When I turned around again, she was looking at me. She smiled when she saw me. I smiled back, and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. She’d nabbed me, I just knew it.

Finally, I was able to pay for the wine, and leave. I wanted to get back to my car as quickly as possible so I could follow her again, but then a voice called out, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” I turned around, but I already knew it was her. She walked up with a piece of paper in her hand. “You dropped your receipt!” she said, and handed it to me. “Thought you might want it.”

“Thanks,” I said, and put it into my pocket. I was flustered. “Sorry again about – “

“No, don’t worry about it,” she said. “I don’t even like olives too much.”

“Well, sorry anyway.” I turned and walked back to my car. By the time I got back inside, my hands were shaking badly. I gripped the steering wheel to make the shaking stop and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I looked for her car, but it was gone. Pissed, I opened the car door and threw the bottle of wine away. It hit a car across from mine, but didn’t break. I drove home.

Greg was surprised I was back so early. He was dressed for bed already. I told him that most of the girls had to get up early in the morning. I kissed him goodnight and told him I’d be up in a while. He seemed tired, and happy to be dismissed.

I was still raging. I stood in the kitchen and drank some milk from the carton. The clock read 10:30. I sat watching Leno for a few minutes, then decided to go to bed when his monologue was over. As I emptied my pockets on the dining table, I saw the receipt for the wine crumpled up. I opened it, and saw it wasn’t for wine after all. Ice cream, chips. Comfort food. I was confused. It wasn’t my receipt at all. I turned it over, and there was writing on the back. “Glad you bumped into me. Can I see you again? 555-1106. Hope to hear from you. Jennie.” I had a headache suddenly. I’ve had them before. Like a crossbow bolt under each eye, digging into my brain. Since the accident I’ve had headaches quite a lot. They stop me from sleeping some nights. I get. I get. I get a sick feeling along with them, and a smell. Like antiseptic in hospitals. Stinging. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the note again. The phone was in my hand too, but I didn’t remember picking it up. I pressed the buttons. 555-1106. I held the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring.

“Is it you?” she asked me. I didn’t say anything. “Is this the girl from the store?”

“Uh… yes,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m calling you, I-“

“I wasn’t sure if you would. I saw your ring.”

“This is really uncomfortable for me, I should probably hang up.”

“You can hang up if you like. I’ll count to three. If you don’t hang up I’ll know you don’t want to. One. Two. Three. You didn’t hang up.”

“I don’t know why I –“

“Yeah. You do. I saw how you kept looking at me in the store. Did you bump into me on purpose?”

“No, I was looking for … for something. I didn’t see you.”

“I was looking at you. I saw you walking down one aisle and I wanted to get a closer look at you.”

“Why?”

“You looked pretty determined about something. I thought it was sexy. You’re really intense. That turns me on. What was the wine for?”

“What w – oh. Dinner party tomorrow night,” I lied. “I’m not sure I should be talking to you like this.”

“Get a pen. I want to meet you soon. Tomorrow night. Can you do that?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe.”

“There’s a Fridays a little bit away from that store. It’s on -------- Street. Take the ------- ------ exit from 390, go past the church and turn right at the second set of lights. The Fridays is in the little strip mall across from Circuit City. Is seven thirty good for you?”

“I don’t know if I can make it.”

“What do you drink?”

“I don’t know. Sam Adams usually.”

“I’ll have one waiting for you. Bye.”

“Wait!” I said, but the line was dead. I put the phone back in its cradle and wondered what I was getting myself into.

I didn’t sleep again that night. Greg was silent, as always. His breath was so light, the effort it took me to try to hear it kept me awake longer. I thought of Jennie, and my heart beat like it hadn’t beaten in a long time. What would Greg make of all this, I wondered.

He was working late again the following night. That made it easy to slip away. I left a note on the fridge saying I had gone to a movie. I shouldn’t have gone.

I didn’t spend a lot of time getting ready. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen that night, but I was excited. Not in a good way. In a way that makes you sick to your stomach. Like a phone call in the middle of the night when a loved one is missing. Yes. That’s exactly what it felt like.

I drove to the Fridays she had mentioned. The seater asked me where I wanted to sit, and I told her I was meeting a friend. A friend. I don’t know why I said that. It seemed the right thing to say.

She was sitting in a booth on the other side of the bar and waved when she saw me. She was dressed in a black pants suit. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing glasses. I wouldn’t have recognized her if she hadn’t waved. When I slipped into the booth I saw a Sam Adams waiting for me.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. I couldn’t really look at her.

“I just got here. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” I croaked. “I didn’t really do much.”

“This is a stupid question, but what’s your name?”

“Michelle.” I grabbed the glass and took a long swallow.

“I’m Jennie.”

I picked up the menu. “Are you hungry?” I asked her.

“I’d like to eat you,” she said. I was shocked by that. Even though she had said it quietly, I felt as if everyone in the place had heard it.

“Are you always so forward?”

“I can’t help it. I’m a go-getter.”

“I’m not quite as open as you, you’ll have to excuse me.”

We didn’t talk for a couple of seconds. The waiter came to take our order, but Jennie told him we were leaving in a few minutes.

“That’s very presumptuous of you,” I told her.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” she said, ignoring me. “I thought about you all night.”

“So are you gay or what? Because I’m not.”

“Gay, straight, who cares these days? In a hundred years labels like that will be something people will laugh at.” She leaned down over her folded hands and said, “Look, the truth is, I don’t do this a lot. I’m a bit embarrassed about it too, and I guess being so blunt is how I deal with it. I was attracted to you at the store last night, and I figured the best thing to do would be to give you my number. You’d either call or you wouldn’t. That way I’d either be spared the embarrassment of a face to face rejection, or something interesting would happen. And look! You’re here. And I want to rip off your clothes and make wild, passionate love with you in less than half an hour. If you don’t mind.” She smiled. She was messing with me, and that made me smile. “That’s better,” she said. “I was wondering if you scowled all the time.”

“At least let me finish my beer,” I said.

Half an hour later, we were at her house. It was nice. Very big. A lot like ours. She shut the door behind me and took my hand, and we walked to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and patted it. I was reluctant at first, but I sat down next to her, and then her hand was on my leg, and she was looking through her glasses into my eyes. I felt overcome with fear, suddenly. Paralyzed, like an insect caught in a web. She kissed me. A small kiss, just on the lips. I felt nauseated. Not by her. By. By. I’m not sure what. I was confused. I.

She took off her pants suit jacket, and she was wearing a lacy top that I could see her bra through. She pushed me back on the bed and kissed me again. Something snapped inside me. Suddenly I was on top of her, and we were writhing on her bed. My tongue was in her mouth, my fingers hooking in her hair. The smell of her was everywhere. She pushed me away and took off her blouse and reached behind to unhook her bra. I watched it fall from her breasts, which were large and full. They swayed when she removed everything else. “You like?” she said. She pressed her breasts together, ran her hands down her sides, then back up over her face. I watched, saying nothing. That’s not true. I nodded. Told her yes. She helped me undress and we lay on her bed together, kissing and touching each other.

“You seem so damn tense,” she said. “Come on, roll over.”

“Why?”

“I’ll rub your back.”

I rolled over onto my stomach and she crawled on top of me, sitting on my backside. “Oh my God,” she said. “What happened to you?” I forgot about my scar. It’s from my accident.

“I was in a crash. A few years ago. I don’t remember much about it. My back was broken and they had to do surgery on me.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Can I touch it?”

I felt her hands touch my back, gently, running from where my scar starts, in the back of my neck, down to my lower back. She was delicate. “Does that hurt?” she asked me?

“It feels good,” I said.

“It’s quite sexy,” she said, and then I could feel her kissing it. The weight of her breasts pressed down into my lower back. I tingled everywhere. Jennie made my spine tingle, you might say. “What happened?”

“We were driving home one night. There was me, my husband and two of our friends. It was their car. We’d been out to eat. It was my husband’s friend’s birthday. All of a sudden someone walked in front of the car and he swerved. We were going faster then the speed limit, and hit another car, then ran off the road. They were all killed.”

“Everyone?”

“I mean. I mean they were killed. They were killed. She wasn’t buckled in and went through the windshield. He was. I don’t know what happened to him. I wasn’t buckled in and hit the seat in front of me. Broke my back. My husband was okay. Just a concussion from hitting the passenger window.”

“Wow. You really were lucky.” Jennie kissed everywhere on my back, then I could feel her lips on my backside. “I’m really lucky,” she said. Her tongue went into the crack of my ass, and instinctively I opened my legs, pushed my rear up in the air.

Her tongue glided further down, to my asshole, flicked across it. I shuddered, but pushed back against her face.

“If you don’t like this, just say so,” she said. Her fingers pried my cheeks apart and her tongue pierced me down there. It felt good. I moaned as she tongue-fucked my asshole deeper and deeper.

“That feels good,” I said, “Don’t stop.” While she ate my ass, I reached between my legs and rubbed my clit and I would have came quickly until she stopped and rolled me over. I looked up at her. She was a blonde goddess.

“Let me get something,” she said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

I lay on my side and watched her go to her dresser, where she pulled out what looked like a dildo, but with some sort of strings attached. I didn’t realize it was a strap-on until she, you know, strapped it on. I wanted to feel it inside of me. It was pretty big – about eight inches. I lay on my back and opened my legs. She knelt between them and pretended to jerk off the plastic cock.

“You like that?’ she asked me. “You want me to fuck your pussy with it?”

“Yes,” I said. “Oh yes.” I reached down and rubbed the head of it as she stroked it. With my other hand, I spread my pussy lips wide. She spat on her hand and wiped it over the shaft, then pressed it to my hole. I felt it enter me, opening my cunt wide and filling me up. My nipples were electric. Jennie grabbed my ankles and pulled my legs apart as she began to fuck me, rhythmically. I squeezed my breasts together, pulling on my nipples, watching her thrust her cock deeper into me. She fucked me hard for a few minutes then let go of my ankles and dropped on top of me. We kissed deep as she worked the dildo into me from a different angle. Her big breasts were pressing down into mine. While she rode me, I put my hands on the sides of them, felt how ripe they were.

“That feels so good in my cunt,” I said. “Fuck me deeper.” I lifted my legs up so she could drill me harder, but after a while, she withdrew and sat back on her heels. The big cock stood straight up in the air, wet and shiny from my pussy. I took it in my hand and began licking the shaft before putting the head in my mouth and sucking hard on it.

“That looks hot,” Jennie said, pinching her nipples. “Keep sucking it.” I sucked it down as far as I could and kept at it for a few minutes, until she put her hand on my hand and said, “Fuck me in the ass with it.”

I got up and she took it off, and handed it to me, helped me out it on. She lay back on the bed with her legs up in the air. “Get my asshole good and wet,” she said.

I lay on the bed between her legs and licked her asshole, but it wasn’t getting too wet. I got a big wad of spit and spat on her asshole, then wet my finger and put it inside her. She moaned and I looked up to see her eyes rolling back in her head. I spat on her hole again, and when I was sure it was wet enough I got up and knelt between her legs, grabbed the cock and pushed it against her asshole. It wasn’t going in, no matter how hard I was pushing. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I wanted to fuck her in the ass. I really, really wanted to do that. “It’s not going in,” I said. “You’re too tight.”

“Keep pushing,” she said. “Push harder. When you get the head in it’ll go easier.”

I pushed and pushed, and her asshole finally surrendered. The end of the dildo disappeared inside her, and she yelped. I pushed in further, and she was right: it was easier. “That’s better,” she said, and started rubbing her clit while I fucked her hard in the ass. Her breasts moved up and down on her chest, slowly, heavily. “Fuck me in the ass until I come,” she said. Her face was knotted, and she was breathing heavy. I watched her all over, from her face, to her big breasts, to her tight, flat stomach, to her fingers as she frigged her clit, to the shaft of the cock as it slid back and forth in her asshole, and I suddenly realized I was seeing what Greg was seeing. What he was sneaking off to get somewhere else that he could have been getting from me. I was angry again. My headache came back. I pounded her harder and deeper than before. “Ahhhhh, Jesus Christ that’s good!” she said. “That’s it, fuck me, fuck me. I’m going to come.”