Orange Grove Betrayal

"That night, after dinner, we had some drinks, we all went back to our hotel and Claudia took us all on. Blow jobs to start, and then we made her airtight. She was using her hand to jack whoever wasn't in one her holes at the time. It was the first time that I'd been involved in an orgy like that.

"When all of us had run out of steam until we could recover, she had us fisting her, both front and back. I mean, what a puta! Then we started filling her up, like two cocks up her pussy at the same time, two cocks up her ass at the same time. Like I said, she was a real pervert, and she coulda been a porn star.

"After all of that, she was ready to go to the bar and pick up some fresh men! Crazy. I convinced her not to do that.

"What can I tell you, she had me by the balls. She was like a drug that I had to have.

"The next day, when the Panamanian bankers left to go back to Panama, they also took $10,000 of my money to get me a Panamanian passport, which they did. A real one, a real passport with my photo, and another name.

"I haven't used it for a couple years now, but I still have it somewhere.

"There was still my bucket list of things to do before I died, but now I expected to be doing them with a lot of money.

"Claudia was never satisfied, though. I had real POAs for the other three groves, but she got greedy and wanted to sell your grove as well. She told me that she could forge a POA for your grove and we would be gone before any of the owners, including you, knew.

"Speaking of which, how the hell DID you find out?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "People talk and gossip, and eventually it got to Pete, who called to ask me if I was selling the grove without telling him. And by that time, our banker had seen through the forgery and was calling me to tell me about his suspicions. Shit, even Bubba tracked us down to tell us about the tractors. It was like everyone knew that something was going on that smelled bad.

"By the way, did Matt ever find you? He was pissed that were willing to steal twenty-grand from him, when he thought you were just cheating me. He didn't even know about you and his mom, but he was going to find you and beat his twenty-K out of you."

Bruce gave out one of his weak laughs.

"He almost caught up with me. I was hiding out in a vacant rental unit that almost no one knew about on one of the groves. But Matt knew about it because when we were in school together, we used to go there to smoke some joints and do some lines of coke, if we had the scratch to buy some.

"I was going out on one of the other roads through the grove, and I could see his truck coming in on the other side. I knew that was not a good sign, but he didn't see my truck. I guess we were behind some trees or something. But I was on my way out to sell the truck anyway, so I wasn't going to worry about that.

Bruce went quiet again, like he was gathering his strength just to talk.

"The thing with Consuela at the end was entirely different. I had been doing so many kinky things with Claudia that I just want to exert control with Consuela. She never wanted to do it, but when she surrendered to demands that she suck off those two slimy Panamanian bastards, I knew she would go along with anything else I asked her.

"The threesomes with the other grove owners, well that was just to distract them, make them feel good about me. And it worked, it kept them away long enough for Claudia and me to close the sales on the groves. What a group of stupid bastards, giving me POAs over their properties. But my dad had worked for them for years, and they expected the same kind of thing from me. Like a grateful serf, working my fingers to the bone for the crumbs that they paid me.

"I guess they were surprised."

"Hey," Bruce looked my way to ask, "have you tapped any of that pussy? Consuela is damn fine. Not Claudia quality, but close. And you can trust Consuela."

"No," I replied, "I don't do my employees."

"Too bad. I had wanted to get you to do a threesome with me and Consuela, or even to bring Clair along and do some swapping. Clair looks pretty hot."

I wasn't going to comment on that.

"When you got away, I guess the last place they tracked you to was the Dominican? But it didn't seem like you stayed there. So what happened between then and now?"

"Yeah. Well, we landed in the Dominican traveling on my original passport, but we left about two hours later for Costa Rica, with me using my new Panamanian passport and Claudia using, I think a Honduran, passport.

"We arrived in the airport in San Jose, Costa Rica, and spent about two days in the city. We stayed at a casino hotel, where the bar was filled with prostitutes. I don't think that prostitution is exactly legal in Costa Rica, but I think they just ignore it. Claudia and I spent time in the bar drinking, and she would choose one of the whores there based on what they would do. A lot of them didn't want to do women and others didn't want to take it up the ass, so we passed on them. There were still plenty to choose from and we had a couple of fun nights there. Then we went to the west coast and did some deep-sea fishing. It's great there, man, you need to try it sometime. Marlin, swordfish, sailfish, whatever.

"Claudia found the whores there too. One time she brought back a girly guy, a mericone she called him. But he would do women too. I won't even describe some of the things we did with that little guy. He was thin, his body was clean shaved and he was as kinky as Claudia."

I was getting tired of Bruce's bragging, so I made a rolling on gesture with my hand, telling him to get on with it.

"We were there for about a week. We figured by then our money would have stopped bouncing around and would be in the bank account. Next stop: Panama.

"That was where things turned to absolute shit!

"We caught a flight to Panama City, the capital. Everything was fine, nice flight, but when we got off, Claudia went to get the rental car while I went to retrieve our baggage.

"That was the last time I ever saw Claudia. The bitch had ditched me. I spent an hour in the airport looking for her before I figured it out. I was the fall guy. I've had people in Panama looking for her, but she's completely disappeared. I'm not even sure anymore that she was Panamanian.

"I got a hotel room and the next day figured out where the bank was where my account had been set up, and went down there.

"We're sorry, Senor, but your wife cleared out the account yesterday afternoon. No, senor, we don't know what she did with it. She took it all in the bearer bonds that you had purchased."

Bruce looked down at his feet and sat there shaking his head.

"Can you believe it? She stole my money, right out from under me. That cunt.

"Now, I wasn't entirely broke because I still had the money I'd gotten from your account and from the sale of the tractors and my truck. But that was just a little over $100 grand, a lot less than $15 million. I was sick just thinking of how I was manipulated.

"But someone up there must have liked me, because the next morning, I got a call from the bank that the last million had just been transferred in from abroad if I wanted to claim it.

"NO SHIT! Of course I wanted to claim it. I got back to the bank as quickly as I could and moved the money to a new account without the bitch's name on it.

"And that is the story. It goes without saying that Claudia had lied to me about getting medical treatment for ALS in Panama. I consulted with the best doctors there, and the only treatments that they knew of were the same ones that I could have gotten in the States. End of the day, she lied to me AND stole most of my money.

"Still, with over a million bucks in my pockets, I could live a life of luxury for decades in Panama. But I wasn't that happy there. I was moving at least every six months, and more often if I thought that someone trying to track me was getting too close.

"With the remaining money, though, I was able to buy Canadian papers that would pass inspection except for the deepest dive that could only be done by one of the intel services. No one was worried enough about me to go to the trouble. Maybe I'm paranoid, but there were a couple times when people seemed to be asking questions about me that made me nervous. Getting out of the country with a new name seemed prudent.

"So here I am! But I guess that I should change hotels now. If you were able to find me, other people might find me too.

"You said you weren't going to turn me in to authorities, right?"

I nodded.

"No point for me now. I just feel sorry for myself for calling you a friend for most of my life. You remember that gal, Connie Lopez, who took my virginity?"

"Sure! She was a hot piece. I'd done her a long time before."

"Well, she told me, way back when, that you weren't my friend and that someday you would betray me. And she was right."

I got up and headed for the door.

"Hey, you WERE the closet person that I had to a friend," said Bruce, "But I couldn't help myself. I told you; I am a psycho after all." He was still laughing as I closed the door behind me and walked down the hall to the registration area.

As I passed through the reception area, I saw two large, brutal looking men sitting there. I caught their eyes and nodded their way. They understood what I was saying. I put the key to Bruce's room on one of the side tables, and then I was out the door. I caught a flight back to Nashville after dinner that night.

About a week later, I read that a man's body had been found on a piece of secluded woodland outside of Quebec City in Canada. The first report suggested that the man had been brutally beaten with baseball bats while alive (which were found at the scene), and based on footprints in the surrounding soil, then two men, one on either side, had shot the man six times, each, for a total of 12 .38 caliber shots.

Because of the number of bullets and the fact that no brass cases were found, the authorities assumed that .38 caliber revolvers had been used. They had no leads as to who the perps might be.

Canadian authorities had not identified him at that time, because his Canadian papers appeared to be false. His Canadian papers identified him as Jack Meniere, but that individual didn't exist in any Canadian records. When they searched his last known location, a hotel room less than five miles away, they discovered several other sets of identification.

Another couple of weeks and a very small blurb on one of the internet news sites said that Canadian officials had tentatively identified the deceased man as one Bruce McWilliams, who was wanted in Florida on multiple charges and had fled the States several years before.

While I told Bruce the truth, that I would not contact the police and turn him in, I was lying by omission. There was that grove owner, whose grove Bruce had sold, up in New Jersey. I had promised him that if I heard anything about Bruce or his location, I would give him a call. So, call him I did.

I guess it was fitting the Bruce's end came as the result of one psychopath stealing from another psychopath who was even more brutal that he was.

Maybe there was something wrong with me as well, because I didn't mourn or waste a tear on Bruce.

End

Comments:

Let me apologize that this story doesn't fit nicely into the LW paradigm, but I felt if Todd1772's and DT Iverson's war stories work in the category, then I hope you will forgive my story, which doesn't fit easily into any other grouping either.

I could say that this was loosely based on true events, except that the 'events' that I heard were basically hearsay (a polite word for gossip) and over 30 years ago. Nevertheless, I think that in very broad terms something akin to this happened once upon a time, somewhere. The person who took it and ran is the villain in this story.

Addressing some who have complained when I include a variety of sexual activities in my stories, I only use them to advance the story line, and even then, I don't spend pages going into minute-by-minute detail. In this story the sexual activities of the villain of the story are part and parcel of his evil soul and just another tool that he uses to abuse and betray people he should love and care for. To basically whore out his wife for his own benefit and then abandon her and his children is just one of the many betrayals that he commits.

Honestly, I had originally hoped to put this into the 'non-erotic' category, but as the story developed I couldn't see a way of keeping his sexual abuse of his wife, a major betrayal, out of the story.

I need to thank Randi on several levels.

First, when she proposes a prompt for a story, it causes me to see if my imagination is stirred to write one.

Second, she establishes a timetable for when the story is due, and that forces me to discipline myself. There's a limit to my procrastination if I'm going to submit a story for the event.

As far as editing goes, I used to have a couple of 'readers' who would comment on my story and point out those errors that they spotted. They helped me get rid of the redundant words, sentence fragments that no longer made sense, and that sort of thing. So far as I could tell, their knowledge of the rules of punctuation were even less than mine, and that is an area that I need a LOT of help with.

Alas, one of my gentlemen's wife became so ill that he could no longer be relied upon to read/edit in a timely manner, so he asked me to forgive him, but he had to bow out. My other reader, a long-time friend who I would meet for coffee several times a week, where we considered how the problems of the world could be solved if only we were in charge, passed away last year. I miss both his efforts to make my stories better, as well as his wisdom in general.

Randi is far stronger than I (or MS Word) in punctuation (MS Word want to insert commas everywhere), and she allows my quirks — for example, misusing 'em dashes' — but she also has a wide range of knowledge of subject matter. If she had edited my "Una noche in Buenos Aires", she would probably corrected my using 'arthroscopy' when I meant 'laparoscopy'. I have been corrected by astute readers multiple times for that slip. Regardless, she catches my subject errors. She reminds me not to capitalize all nouns, a bad habit I picked up from German. She corrects me when I capitalize the wrong pronouns, as well as when I fail to capitalize the right pronouns. I seem to have that rule entirely backwards.

So, THANK YOU Randi for your patience, willingness to edit my stories, and poke me in the ass and keep me moving forward with my tales.