Kyle

At my apartment I packed a suitcase and drove to the airport. I saw a Marine standing in line to get a ticket. I walked up to him and asked where he was headed. "Going home, Sir. Memphis."

He stepped to the counter and started the transaction. She quoted him a price and I slapped a VISA card on the counter. "Allow me. I can afford it more than you can and it's my way of saying Thanks for protecting us."

He put his wallet away and shook my hand in thanks. I walked back to the Mustang and drove north. Six hours later I saw a sign for a Ford dealership and I got off the freeway. An hour later I no longer owned the Mustang and I learned something about the car I'd owned for over ten years. It was the body and package of the basic Mustang with the engine and drive train of the GT. I walked away with cash. The dealership didn't by the car. One of the salesmen did.

I called my lawyer and she had all the signed paperwork. She had worked with the lottery people and my name was kept private until January of the next year when the state published lists of winners. By then I would be long gone. She had arranged for my checks to be deposited in an account I could access from anywhere. The first check had been deposited.

Kyle came home to find himself in a world of hurt. Seems someone had tipped his company off that he was ripping them off. Five hours of audit showed the rip off totaled almost eleven million dollars. He was fired. As he left the building the feds took him into custody. He didn't make it to Kate's house.

Kate helped with the audit and the feds decided not to charge her as a part of the plan to defraud. However, the company let her go. She called my cell and I answered.

"Where are you?" She asked. I could hear tears in her voice.

"Right now I'm just north of Portland. Why?"

"I need you. When are you coming back?"

"How does your ass feel?" I asked.

"It hurts. My pussy in swollen and hurts too. My tits are black and blue and worst of all I've been fired and Kyle is going to prison." She sobbed.

I said, "On the eighth of May last year you and Kyle un-fucked my life. Yes, he used you and I know now it wasn't personal. But, I still got un-fucked. Un-fucked when he said I no longer could fuck my own wife. Un-fucked because he marked you as his property by putting a ring in your clit! Un-fucked because I had to get permission for the two fucks in nine months! Feel your ass. Now you know a little of how it feels." I took a long slow breath to calm down and asked, "My lawyer tells me you signed all the papers and that the marriage is over. How does that feel to you?"

"I want you back!"

"I'd say you never wanted me. On our date the other evening you said Kyle's name twenty-eight times. You said Jake three times. I'm gone. When you need beer and condoms, go buy your own. Pay your own bills." I ended the call and shut off my phone.

On the Internet I followed Kyle's progress through the courts. He plea bargained and gave back ten of the eleven million he took. The day he went to prison he had nothing. All the way down to his car being a leased car, Kyle owned nothing and when he got out, if he ever got out, he'd walk out a poor broke man. He got a nice long sentence to a federal prison and in the first six months had to have reconstructive surgery to repair damage to his ass. I found his address and sent him a note, printed on a library computer. It read, "You fucked my wife for nine months. Now you're being fucked by me. You'll be almost fifty-five when you get out of prison. Kate won't be waiting for you. I will. I have another present for you. You won't like it. I guarantee." In reality, I had nothing planned for him. The note was to give him something to think about every time an inmate took his ass and every time he thought about getting out.

Kate found another job, sold the house and moved to a less desirable neighborhood. Her car was vandalized and she discovered what life was like on her own. On May the eighth 2010 she got a package from Hawaii. She opened it and found a Hawaiian shirt in her size and a photograph of me standing near a waterfall at the Polynesian Cultural Center. In the photograph was a tall blond woman with her arms around me. She was wearing a colorful Hawaiian print dress that stopped a few inches above her knees and showed lots of her "D" sized chest. She was tanned and shapely. I wrote at the bottom of the picture. "This could have been you."

The lady in the photograph was someone I met on the tour bus on the way to the PCC. I said I'd give her fifty dollars if, in the picture, we looked like we were very close friends. When she saw the picture she used part of my fifty to buy another print. She sent it to her ex, who had divorced her to marry his physical therapist. Before she put the picture in the envelope she borrowed my Sharpie and wrote, "Having wonderful time, glad you're not here!" She signed it, "Janice."

Janice asked me about Kate and why we divorced. I told her the truth, however a shortened version. She told me about her marriage and in the conversations we discovered what we both wanted was much the same things. So we quit renting two rooms.

We haven't picked a spot to settle, yet. I'm not her Sugar Daddy. The money she got in the divorce is good and she can live nicely on it for many years. We stayed in Hawaii for three months and then flew to Japan. We tried Australia, Italy and England too. It's almost the eighth of May again. Janice thinks a nice picture with us on the deck of a schooner in the Caribbean with Janice in a tiny yellow bikini might be a nice gift for our exes. I think I should send Kyle one, too. Don't you?