February Sucks - Linda's Choice Ch. 02

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"My name is Mark. Would you like to dance?"
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 12/10/2020
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Kalimaxos
Kalimaxos
1,962 Followers

THIS IS A 3 PART SERIES. READ THE WHOLE THING BEFORE PASSING JUDGEMENT.

I KNOW YOU PEOPLE VOTE ON HOW THE WIFE GETS SLAGGED IN THE END.

BUT IT DOESN'T HAPPEN ON PART ONE, OR TWO.

This story is the property of the writer Kalimaxos and written by permission of George Anderson.

It is my version of his famous runaway story. February sucks

While you don't have to read his to follow my version, I HIGHLY recommend it. Especially the lead-in.

Again, this part is told from Linda's point of view.

I push boundaries and question everything and everyone in my stories. All my characters are flawed and have to deal with their own failings. Some rise above their shortcomings, while others do not. Their choices define them.

In my stories, nothing happens for "no good reason." To me, the real meat of the story is the before and the why.

Like real life, it's often a shitshow.

-

***

Now here is my premise and how it came about. I've been reading stories on LW for some time, then discussing some of them with the wife in conversation. In the case of the original February Sucks by GA (also by other authors previously), we have the seemingly perfect and content wife who jumps the shark and goes full-on slut. Just because the guy is a celebrity, and of course, he "would be" a stud. So how does this perfect, conservative wife turn into a cock jumping bimbo? What happened?

Well, I believe that no woman "just snaps" as if the Whore-ona virus infected her because she didn't wear a mask. The wife just laughs at that and says, "why I always do social distancing and wear mine." (She thinks she is funny.)

But I regress. Let's go back to the mythical wife in these stories. Let's say she is real and not sniffing the airborn Whoreona Virus. She was either a slut all along, or something happened to change her. And that something is usually gradual and rarely instantaneous. Maybe something happened to change her. Or her reaction caught the clueless hubby by surprise. But there was a cause, a process, and she thought her response out.

So this is my version of the story. Which, while based on GA's narrative, is different in multiple details and aspects. You will get to meet Linda and Jim Johnson from Linda's point of view. Up to that fateful evening at the nightclub when Mark LaValierre asks Linda to dance.

-----------------------

Previously on Part 01

Then, in that instant, by survival instinct told me: "get out." And that is what I did. Forgetting the carry bag with my sex toys, bra, and underwear, I tossed my red dress over me and grabbed my shoes and purse. I was running for the door barefoot when I heard him call to me.

"Linda? Where are you?"

But I kept going.

I ran out barefoot, holding my things as his cum dribbled out my ass, down my legs. I don't know if he chased me down the steps or tried taking the elevator. All I know is that I made it to my SUV parked down the street and drove off back to work. Once there, I gathered my things, sent Jim an email that I was going to the gym, and ran out again.

Stopping at a drug store for another enema, I drove to the gym. I tossed my red dress in the garbage in the locker room, not ever wanting to see it again. Then ran under the shower in a closed stall with my face on the wall. Bawling like a baby, I wonder how low I had sunk. My rectum was starting to throb.

I hadn't noticed the blood dripping down my inner thighs and legs until I saw it going around and around by the drain.

***

What a mess!

After I cried myself silly, I washed three times and gave myself an enema to clean any sign of Mark of me. There was some blood in the residue. I had a spare douche in my locker and proceeded to use it as if my life depended on it. Checking my body on the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I noticed some light bruising between my thighs. But since Jim and I were having sex again regularly, I didn't have to worry about them. What worried me was the bruise on my arm. It had three finger imprints where he had held me down as he forced fucked me near the end.

Pulling my hair back in a ponytail, I put on a clean set of underwear, a t-shirt and sweats I had stored at the gym, and my running trainers. My mind was a storm of emotions. But I managed to get them and myself under control.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that Mark and I were over. If there was one thing that I did not tolerate in sex was abuse. Having been stalked in the past, I was very sensitive to that kind of behavior. There is a difference between rough sex and cruelty.

Jim had never abused me. Ever!

***

That night I told Jim I was not feeling well and went to bed early after taking four ibuprofen for the pain developing in my abdomen and rectum. The next morning, the pain was worse. I was sore and called in sick. Another day off to make my boss happy.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked.

"I was exercising and felt pain in my abdomen," I replied. "I'm going to my doctor after I drop the kids off."

"Maybe I should stay and take the kids to school and daycare," he replied with concern. "Maybe take you to the doctor."

"No, Jim," I said, wanting to be alone to think. "I'll be fine."

"OK, but call me or leave a message letting me know what's wrong."

"I will, hun," I replied.

I was busy getting the kids ready. But my mind was on what had happened yesterday. And the pain was still there. Damn Mark! What had gotten into him? I gave him what he wanted, and he repaid me with a grudge fuck?

After Jim went to work, I managed to take the kids to daycare and then drove to my gynecologist. Informing them I had an emergency, I asked to be seen and was told I had to wait forty minutes. An excruciating hour later, I was seen by a woman that was not my gyno. Apparently, mine was away for the holidays.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Johnson? I'm Dr. McCall, by the way."

The woman looked Indian but had an accent that screamed North Carolina southern bell.

"Look, I had a sexual encounter yesterday with a man, and I am hurting today."

"Vaginal, I presume?" she asked, taking dispassionate notes.

"That and anal," I replied.

She jotted it down without a reaction.

"And what is the source of discomfort?" the doctor asked.

"Well, the man, eh... he is kind of big."

"Tall big or penis big?" she asked, finally looking up.

"Both."

"Long big, or wide big?" she said, going back to writing.

"Both," I replied.

That got her attention.

"I see," she replied. "Please put your legs on the stirrups."

Ten minutes later, after scoping both my rectum and vagina, she took some more notes and finally turned to look at me.

"You have some bruising on your thighs consistent with vigorous coitus and slight vaginal irritation. That is normal considering you were with a larger than normal male. But you have anal tearing. Internally. I recommend that you cease anal sex for at least a month until you heal. If you have not noticed already, you will notice blood on your stool. Here are a set of instructions for care and the aftereffect of rough sex. May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"The man was not your husband, was he?"

I froze, not knowing how to or if to respond. Tilting her head to the left, the doctor pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.

"It's all confidential," she said, waiting for my reply.

"Not my husband," I replied.

"Was this forced? It seems like a violent encounter."

"Rough, but consensual," I replied.

"Did you use protection?"

"We got carried away. No."

She made another set of notes and spoke, still writing.

"You are a grown woman. I will not lecture you on extramarital sex issues, but I will suggest you get an STD test. See our lab technician after you leave; we do them in house. Are you current on your birth control pills?"

"Yes."

"Mrs. Johnson, the damage done to your rectum had to be from an exceptionally large man. I suggest you find a different partner or cease anal play all together. What happened this time can happen again. Correction. It will happen again. And the damage may be more extensive."

"I understand. I don't plan on seeing him again."

"That is up to you," she said. "Have you had unprotected sex with your husband yet?"

"No."

"I will prescribe antibiotics to prevent infection in your rectum. Also, pain relievers. You are lucky that the damage is not extensive. I will have to see you again next week. Call me if you have any increase in pain or excessive bleeding. Spotting is fine. But it should stop in three days. If it persists, call us or go to the ER. Tell your husband you have a vaginal infection and can not have coitus. The antibiotics should be enough proof. If not, have him call, and I will confirm it if you permit me to do so."

"I do, but I don't foresee a problem with my husband," I replied.

She let me leave finally with prescriptions and a clear feeling she saw me as a slut that could steal her husband.

While still in the parking lot, I send Mark a text.

-L: I just got out of the doctor. My ass is torn up, and I may have an infection. We didn't use protection, so I had an STD test done. I'm on anti-biotics. It was fun, but I don't want this anymore. We are done. Take care of yourself. -

An hour later, the torrent of texts from Mark began.

-M: Done? Why?-

-M: Linda, answer me. You can't break up with me. We are not done by a longshot.-

-M: Linda, I'm sorry I don't know what came over me. -

And more texts in the same note. Apologetic one minute and disbelieving the next. I wanted to delete them, as if doing so I could delete the entire affair. But I knew that was wishful thinking. Then something told me to keep them. Later that day, I responded to him.

-L: How could you do that to me? I gave you what you wanted. And you hurt me and said those nasty things in the end. I want you to stay away from me. -

He replied again with similar texts as before. The man could not believe that I would want to end it. But I had. The minute he turned violent, I had to.

But he had other ideas.

-M: We are not done. When the playoffs are over, we will talk. Just hold off on any decisions Baby Girl. Love Mark.

Love! What the fuck!

What was this love stuff? I had told him from the start that this was nothing but a sexual relationship. When we started, I figured this guy was used to having women throw themselves at him. Saying to him that our affair was only for sex was for both our benefit. First, to reassure him that I would not be a burden and become attached. That assured, then I would get to be screwed by this stud of a man. Back then, I thought this was the opportunity of a lifetime; now turned into a nightmare.

What had I done?

Fuck, fuck... fuck.

***

Coming clean... to Dee

That Saturday, our group of friends had another football party at Jane and Phil's this time. Our local team was in the playoffs, so everyone was jazzed up for it. The local boys had not made it that far for a few years. Most of the men were convinced that Mark LaValliere and the new quarterback Sims, were the reason. Only Andy said that the whole team was contributing, especially the defense. Jim stayed out of that argument, I noticed. Then he took Andy's side, bringing a new round of arguing. Rosie took her husband's and Jim's side.

This kind of banter was typical for our group. We even had a thing where we would pick opposite sides just to mess with each other. I knew the game and had participated in the past. This time I just sat there are they went back and forth laughing and ribbing each other. Our social group was so much fun to be a part of.

But I was numb. Thoughts of my month-long affair and it's uncertain end clouded my thinking.

I took that time to step out and go lay down in Jane and Phil's bedroom. Still recovering, I needed the rest. In a few minutes, Jim checked on me briefly and went back to the game. Dee, for her part, came in and stayed.

"So," she said, closing the door. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Yes," I replied. "But not here. Can we go for a drive?"

"Sure," she agreed.

Making some excuse about going to the store we made for the door. Jim looked at me and waved. Smiling at him, I waved back as Dee and I walked out to the cold air. We took her car as I was not up to driving.

"Linda," she finally asked. "What's wrong?"

All the emotions of the last month came out then as I started crying. Dee pulled over and tried to comfort me. She already knew about the problems Jim and I were having, and I trusted her. Not thinking but needing to unburden myself, I told her everything.

"OH God, Linda! Mark LaValliere? You had sex with THE... Mark LaValliere?"

I expected that. Dee was star struck with him. There had been times when I was with him that I had wondered what Dee would think if she saw me bend over with Mark's cock in my pussy. Or sucking him off... or on my back with him pounding me. Now I was telling her, and she was listening, but I could tell her mind was on what Mark's cock would feel in her instead of my issues.

"Dee, stop. He hurt me, I tell you."

"Wait," Dee stopped me. "You gave him your ass as a present? Last Monday?"

I nodded, still sniffling.

"Oh, Dee, I was so stupid to do that. He is huge. But..."

"But you just had to, didn't you?" she said. "You just had to do everything with him while you had him."

I nodded, not wanting to admit it. But it was true. I didn't give my ass to Mark out of love. I did it only for my ego. To know I had accomplished it. Maybe to think I was better than other women that had come his way.

"Eve in the garden of Eden you are," Dee imitated Yoda from Starwars.

Last time she had been over at our house, she did that imitation for the kids, and they loved her for it.

"Dick, you need, hmmm... the bigger, the better... hm," she continued her gag.

"Dee, stop," I said, trying not to laugh. "This is serious."

She gave one last laugh at her jokes, then turned to me, still smiling.

"Does Jim suspect?" she asked.

"Not that I know off. I've been fucking him too. Taking what I want from him. I've been really horny."

"Wow... little miss perfect mommy was fucking two men and getting a big dick to boot. Lucky you."

"Dee, I... am scared Jim will find out."

"Now you are?"

"I was real careful before. I covered my tracks. I thought Mark was the kind that didn't want complications either. Now I don't know."

"The only way he will is if you spill your guts or if Mark... I still can't believe you fucked him. If he comes around to claim you."

"Claim me! What the hell are you talking about, Dee?"

"The plain's hunter has sampled the goods of the mate of another," she imitated the narrator of the kids' animal show on TV. "And finding that she has given him all her body holes, he wants to claim her as his own."

"Stop messing around, Dee," I yelled at her. "I'm in some serious shit here. Can you focus and help me out?"

But Dee was on a roll and just had to get one more dig.

"Will the two males of the tribe will fight for the charms of the female in question?" she continued the imitation. Then she finally got serious. "Sports stars are spoiled rotten, Linda. They think the world is their oyster. They get pussy handed to them the way gorgeous women have men give them their car keys and credit cards. He is not used to a woman cutting him off before he is done. He could be trouble."

"I don't know what I am going to do, Dee?"

"The best thing you did, Linda, was to end it. I mean, it is over, right? You're not having second thoughts?"

"Yes, it's over. The asshole went crazy on me and tore me up!" I yelled in frustration, banging the dashboard with my fists. But the way Dee looked back at me with empathy, I managed to calm back down. "Dee, I'm scared. I thought that Mark and I would just have some fun, and it would be over. I didn't expect this."

"Linda, the guy told you that no woman had ever taken him up her ass. You decided to be the special one to give the prince your ass slipper. Now he thinks you are the end-all of womanhood because you managed what others had not. He... has become attached to you. You know... obsessed, besotted?"

"How do I get rid of him?"

"Normal men would be scared of the husband finding out. Or that his own wife would. You can't tell your hubby. That is dangerous and not wise. But you can threaten to tell his wife. That would give you some leverage."

"Leverage..." I thought out loud. "I'm not sure what."

"I told you. His wife finding out can be leverage. Maybe scare him off or keep him at bay."

"Dee, I feel guilty. You know... cheating on Jim. I used to think other women did that. Now I am one of those women."

"You mean women like me?" Dee stared at me without blinking.

"What do you mean? What! Dee, you cheated on Dave?"

"More than once," she replied. "Don't tell me you are surprised."

"I... yes, I am. Tell me."

"Good," Dee replied. "You get the what and when. But not the who. The last one was over Thanksgiving. When Dave was on that trip out of town to see his girlfriend."

"What!"

"Linda, does your company send people out on business trips during a major holiday?"

"No," I replied. "But some times trips are combined and..."

"You mean when a husband travels, and his boss lets him take the wife along as a perk? Then they turn it into a mini-vacation?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Sometimes."

"Well, Dave went to one, but I wasn't invited. You do the math."

"Dee, I'm sorry."

"It's OK, Linda. I had it coming."

"What do you mean?"

"He caught me cheating some years ago. Then he warned me that he reserved the right to get even. But I think he has been getting ass on the side since then and just not telling me."

"I can't believe this, so you both know and tolerate it?"

"For now, I guess. I don't know Linda. What I do know is that I wasn't cut out to be a one-man-woman. And Dave seems to be that way too. We got married too young and never had fun before as we should have. He can say that he is doing it to get even, but he has jumped in with both feet and loves the water. To be honest my friend, I don't think human beings were meant to be married and have just one person in their bed."

"Until recently, I would have disagreed with you. Now I am just like you. I found an excuse to."

"Oh, bullshit!" Dee said. "You don't want to admit it. Most women and men don't want to admit it because we were all raised to think of loyalty and fidelity in marriage. But it's not natural, I tell you. Maybe for some of us, but not all of us. I see fidelity when you are trying to have kids as a couple, but not before or after."

There was silence between us after that. How could I argue with Dee when I had done no different than she had.

"I tell you, sometimes Linda, I wish all ten of us would stop pretending we are just friends and fuck each other to death."

"Dee! Are you serious?"

She turned toward me and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Between the two of us, yes." She waited to see my reaction. I was a bit stunned, but not as I should have been if she and I had not both admitted to committing adultery. "But I know it will never happen because those people back there wouldn't know how to handle it. They would all get jealous instead of getting theirs. The men and women both."

"Probably," I replied.

"Don't tell me that you haven't eyeballed some of the men in our group. They are all good-looking guys. And from that conversation we girls had that night we got drunk, we know that all our husbands are well equipped. I've seen you stare at Gus. And he stares at me, while Hellen stares at Jim and Dave. I bet she wants them to double team her."

Kalimaxos
Kalimaxos
1,962 Followers