Shelly & Danny

If my only choices were between a life of loneliness on my own and a life of cuckoldry eating another man's cream pies, both literally and figuratively, I would choose a life of loneliness where at least I can keep my head up high and look myself in the mirror without having to throw up.

I had a lot to think about, and the answer was not going to come from a bottle. And it certainly was not going to come from Pat. I realized the answers had to come from inside of me. I had to first figure out how I got here, and then figure out the future I wanted and how I can get there.

How I Got Here

The first time I saw Shelly was in the second period of the first day of the seventh grade. And it was infatuation at first sight. She had a bubbly extrovert personality, to my shy introvert one. She was also very pretty. And the new teenage body I was sporting, that came with the deluxe testosterone package, took notice of the little boobs that were poking out of her sweater, and the hips that were just taking form. She would grow up to sport a couple of D's, and she had curves that would have made Marilyn Monroe envious.

I was too shy to go after Shelly, but we lived on the same street. We often found ourselves walking home from school taking the same path. We never walked together, or spoke more than a couple of words in class every now and then.

One day, midway through the eighth grade, I was walking about 20 to 30 feet behind her, on our way home, when a car drove into the driveway of the house just ahead of Shelly. He stopped short, blocking the sidewalk in front of her. I saw a middle-aged man talking to her through the passenger window. She kept shaking her head no to whatever he was saying.

Then as she went around the back of the car to continue walking home, the man opened the passenger door wide, jumped out and grabbed Shelly. He started pushing her in through the driver side door towards the front passenger seat. Shelly was screaming and resisting the best she could, but with his overpowering size and strength he was easily winning the battle.

By this time, I was almost up to the car myself. I dropped my lunchbox and backpack and ran around the car. I repeatedly hit the man in the back, screaming at him to let her go. He swung back, punching me in the face, which knocked me to the ground. I was hurting and shook up, but I grabbed on to his right ankle and wrapped my arms around it, tucking it between my shoulder and neck. I was trying my best to keep him from getting into the car behind Shelly and I yelled out, "Run Shelly, run!"

He pivoted his body fully around, pulled his left leg back, and kicked me in my upper body with his left foot. He achieved his goal of forcing my arms to let go of his leg. But I had achieved my goal as well. Shelly had taken advantage of his momentary distraction and had jumped out of the car to make her escape. By this point people were starting to come out of their houses wondering what all the commotion was about. With the prize lost and concerned neighbors coming out of their houses, he jumped into his car, backed up and sped away.

An alert neighbor had been cognizant enough to memorize his license plate number. A short time later he was captured. The police were able to link him to six abductions, rapes, tortures and murders of young girls. Last I heard he was still on death row awaiting his execution.

I didn't go to school the next few days. I had a busted nose and bruised ribs. The emergency room patched up and bandaged my nose and ribs.

A couple of evenings after the incident, there was a knock on the front door of the apartment my mom and I shared. I opened it to find Shelly standing there, with a tall woman and a big man, who I found out later were her parents, standing right behind her. To make a long story short, they were there to thank me for what I had done. Her mother gave me a long tight hug with a tear running down her face. Her father shook my hand telling me what a stand-up young man I was. He then pulled me in for a tight hug of his own, enveloping me in his large frame.

After that day Shelly and I walked to and from school together. Even though she lived further away from school, I would walk over to her home every morning, and we'd walk to school together. And then I would return her back to her front door every afternoon.

But once we got to school, we went our separate ways, and hung out in two different groups. Shelly ran with the cool kids. I hung out with the geeks. I wasn't necessarily awkward or weird looking. I was just more interested in the intellectual side of things. I was raised by a single mother who struggled every day to make ends meet for us. It was very important for her that I make something of myself. That I don't end up struggling like her to make a living. So, I took school and getting good grades extremely seriously. Plus, I was no jock. Shelly liked the jocks.

Through the rest of junior high school and high school I watched Shelly date one jock after another. I should have known from back then that I wasn't her type, but it didn't keep me from desperately wanting her. We hung out together after school occasionally, and even made out a couple of times. But I wasn't the one that got her cherry, and I never got anywhere past first base throughout high school.

However, I was the one that she would vent to about the jocks she dated. How they were all selfish, and that they were only interested in themselves and sports. Only if they were more sensitive like me, and that they listened to her like I did. How she wished that they were more like me. But when I would ask her the obvious, why doesn't she date me instead. She would just smile at that and change the subject.

I got 97 percentile on the math section of the SAT and 86 percentile on the language portion. I got accepted to every university I applied to. But I ended up going to the nearby state university. That way I could continue to live at home and keep things cheaper. Between the scholarships, the financial aid and student loans, I was able to pay for everything myself without burdening my mom (my father had abandoned us when I was only three). And the part-time jobs gave me some spending money.

With no Shelly to pine after and wait around for, I dated several girls in college, and I had one long term relationship that lasted ten months. Thinking back on those relationships I had a major epiphany. I had sex with four girls before Shelly, and three out of the four the sex was much more satisfactory than with Shelly.

I decided to stay at the same university to get my MBA. It was the second highest ranked MBA program in the state, so I didn't lose much by not attending a school further away. In my second and final year of the MBA program, Shelly was at my door once more, but this time on her own.

I asked her inside and we talked for a few minutes reminiscing about our past and discussing what we've been up to since graduating high school. She had kept tabs on me from mutual friends, and was aware about the university I was attending and that I was in their MBA program. We made a date for that Friday night, and that turned into more follow up dates. We got engaged 7 months later and got married a half a year after that.

I got on my laptop and looked up penis sizes. According to the charts I was right in the average range in both girth and length. I remembered all four girls I dated in college and how their pussies fit nicely around my penis. How tight their, warm and wet, pussies felt around my dick. How passionately they reacted when I had my dick inside of them. That was totally not the experience I had with Shelly. Not even the very first time.

That was epiphany number two. I didn't have a small penis. I had a normal, average one that fit just fine with most girls. The problem wasn't me. The problem was Shelly. She had a huge pussy. She had a cave for a cunt.

I remembered even the first time I fucked her I realized something was different. That she was too loose, but I was too infatuated with her. She had been the prize I had always wanted so I never paid much attention to it. And then in the ensuing years I didn't think of it at all. Her cunt became my normal.

I loved her and I thought we had found other ways to satisfy ourselves. Most of the time I didn't even cum from intercourse with her. More often than not I had to bring myself to completion using my own hand.

I almost always spent a great deal of time playing with her body and giving her oral before sticking my dick in. And she almost always had an orgasm or two from that. However, a large, loose, sopping wet cunt didn't provide much friction for my average sized penis. Neither one of us was getting that much from the fucking.

I gave Shelly a lot of oral, before and after intercourse, but her reciprocation had ended before the end of the first year of our marriage. I never even paid much attention to it. I just figured she didn't like giving blowjobs and I just went along with it. I loved her and I didn't want to push her into doing something she didn't enjoy doing.

One thing I hadn't done though is judge her and make her wrong for her oversized cunt. I had accepted all of her, the good and the bad, and had just loved the whole package. She wanted to take only the part that she perceived was good from me (my love, devotion and income) and get the rest someplace else. In turn she was giving the best of herself, at least sexually and intimately, to someone else.

Another thing I realized was the intellectual side of Shelly, or the lack thereof. At best she had an average mind, and had been an average student. There are many who compensate for not being intellectually gifted by working harder. Not my Shelly. After high school she had gone to the local community college and had dropped out without even finishing one semester. When we started dating, she was working a clerical job making minimum wage. Now, almost fourteen years later, she still worked for the same company as a part-time assistant.

She had absolutely no intellectual curiosity about anything. My friends from college who had gone on to professional careers she found boring. She said we talked about boring stuff to make ourselves feel important. So, we ended up hanging mostly around her friends who basically talked about nothing. Once again, I'm the one that compromised.

I went from discussing politics and ideas with my friends, to following sports, which I had no interest in, so that I could hold a conversation with her girlfriends' boyfriends and husbands. We would joke around, listen to the girls gossip about this or that person, and grown men talk about who chased, shot or hit a ball better. But I accepted her the way she was, and ignored the many things she had lacking. Meanwhile she belittled me and my friends, because we talked about things that she couldn't begin to understand or participate in.

She always thought she was a strong woman, and she had me believing it as well. She wasn't a strong woman. She was just stubborn and selfish. But she was a genius in one capacity. She was a master manipulator. Like an autistic person who had a special magnified ability, Shelly was a savant manipulator.

It took me about two decades to finally see past Shelly's exterior and extrovert personality. I was finally seeing her and our relationship for what it truly was. I had been sleep walking through our relationship for more than a decade. I had wanted her for so long, starting at a very sexually impressionable age, that when I finally got her, I never questioned if she was the person I truly should be with. I had been true to the teenage Danny to the detriment of the adult Daniel.

Another thing I realized was that my dream had always been to have my own business, but Shelly had always poopooed that idea. After graduating with my MBA and passing my CPA test to get my designation, I had gone to work for a medium size CPA firm with the idea that I would be there for two or three years and then eventually establish my own firm.

But Shelly was always against that. She said I was making good money, why risk it. That to have my own practice I didn't just need to be good with numbers, but that I had to be a salesman and a people person as well. That I didn't have that in me. So, I listened to her and I stayed at the same job. I was making close to $150,000 a year, but mostly I was making the firm richer. This was an area I wanted to change as well.

Being someone who thought in numbers I came up with the 95-5 percent rule. Basically, I was part of the 95%. My dick was average, but it fit nicely with about 90 to 95% of the women out there. Shelly and Tom on the other hand were outliers. Shelly couldn't be satisfied with the 90% of the dicks out there. And I bet most women wouldn't want to take Tom's oversized cock on a regular basis, if at all. Their choice of mates was fairly limited.

If Shelly wanted to attract the ideal mate, she had to first find that great oversized cock. Her cave wouldn't long be satisfied with even a seven incher with a slightly bigger than average girth. So, just that requirement alone limited her choices down to 5 to 10 percent of the male population at best.

Then she had to find a male attached to that right sized cock who was not involved with another woman, who was a decent person, a good provider, a good life partner, attractive, etc. So, her potential long-term mate pool consisted at best of one or two percent of the male population.

On the other hand, if I wanted to start with a compatible pussy, I had my choice of a good 90 to 95% of the female population to choose from. I could focus on all the right qualities first, and avoid getting involved with another cave. Pat was wrong. I wasn't the one with limited choices. Shelly was.

Done with my thinking of how I got to where I was, I needed to think about what I wanted for my future.

The One Year Plan

I was going to spend this coming year making a complete change of the path my life was on. I was going to pursue my dream of establishing my own firm and Shelly was going to help finance the startup. I was going to use our savings to get it going, and I was going to get Shelly to start working full time to pay most, if not all, of the household bills. She had taken advantage of me financially in my past, I was going to get her to finance my future.

The second area I wanted to focus on was physically improving myself, both for my self-image and to increase my ability to attract a good mate. I was never going to grow in height, but I can make the most of the body I have. I was going to get in a better shape and put on some muscle weight.

Third, I was going to work on my romantic future. It was one thing to intellectually recognize that what I had to offer wasn't that bad, it was another to overcome the emotional and psychological hurt those two fuckers had done to my psyche. I was going to treat this like anything else I've ever gone after. First, I was going to study on it and read any sexual books I could get my hands on. And then I was going to get real-time practice by dating several women. I would start at the bottom dating the "long hanging fruit", the 4's and 5's and work my way up.

And the last part was that I needed my pound of flesh. Those two had gone out of their way to fuck with me. When they were caught instead of being contrite and apologetic, they went on the offensive attacking me. They made fun of my height and stature which was genetic and nothing I could do anything about. And then they went after my sexual identity as a man.

I wasn't going to go to prison, and risk the future I was planning to get my revenge. But I wasn't going to let them get away with it either. My plans of revenge for Shelly were giving her hope of reconciliation and coercing her into financing my future. I was also going to find a way to put a wedge between those two and split them up. When I was ready to move on, I would pull the rug and leave her broke and alone.

At the time, the best I could come up with for him, was to find a way to make him feel shitty about himself and his manhood like he had tried to do to me. We all have our vulnerabilities and I thought I figured his out. His were his lack of intellect, education and income.

Also, he seemed to want a commitment and life with Shelly and she only wanted his dick. I bet she wasn't the first woman he wanted a long-term relationship with, who saw him as less than an ideal mate, just a fuck buddy. We all long for and envy what we can't have.

I've known guys like Tom. To make themselves get noticed they hit the gym, not to stay in shape, but to get buffed so people will take them seriously, because they never had that in their lives. People had been taking me seriously since I was a kid because I was usually one of the smartest kids in class, and later one of the smartest people in almost any room. I was going to bring Tom down to size, and hit at his vulnerabilities where they hurt him the most.

"Crawling" Back To Shelly & Implementing My One Year Plan

The first thing I needed to do was get fired. When a couple of weeks of calling in sick or showing up to work seemingly semi-drunk didn't do the trick, I went into my boss's office screaming at him about how horribly he ran the firm, how ugly his kids were, and what a whore his wife was ended up doing it. You may think that was a horrible thing for me to have done to the man, but I felt justified in that everything I had told him was actually true.

On a bright and sunny early November Saturday morning in Southern California, I walked into my home with my suitcase in hand. The noise I made coming in must have gotten their attention, because Shelly and Tom burst out of the kitchen into the living room to see me walk in and plant my suitcase down in the entryway.

Shelly's concerned face turned to a devious smile when she saw me. Tom's, however, turned to a frown.

"Honey, I'm back!" I told Shelly in an exaggerated tone.

Tom didn't seem too pleased to see me, "What makes you think you can just walk back in here? You don't live here anymore. I do! You abandoned her and left her all alone. She's with me now and only me. There's no room for you. So, grab your shit and get the fuck out."

Well, they say the gods laugh as men plan. So much for my one-year plan.

Shelly turned to Tom, "Tom, honey, hush now. This is still Danny's house."

She then turned to me, "So, you finally got over your snit and are ready to come crawling back, huh?"

I gave her a big smile, "Yes, ma'am. I'm moving back home. So, I guess that means you need to move Tommy boy out."

Tom started to move towards me, but Shelly put her arms around his waist and held him back.

"Danny, Tom lives here now and isn't going anywhere. This is all your fault. If you didn't abandon me and not answer any of my calls or texts, I would have given you more time to get your stubborn head around all of this and accept things. But no, you had to play the martyr. Tom lives here now, and he's in the master bedroom. So, you need to put your stuff in the guest bedroom. That's the new reality now. Got it Danny?"

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. Could I do this? I thought I would just come back home, and use Shelly to further myself and meanwhile find a way to get revenge on the two of them. But could I live under the same roof with this dickhead and have their infidelity trust in my face every single day?

Tom cut in my thoughts, "Shelly, we don't need him. You're working full time now, and with my pay we'll be just fine. Tell him to go back to where he crawled out of."

"Tom, baby, just hold on, ok. This could work out for the best for everybody here. Danny is like that bad son in the Bible that realizes the wrongs in his ways and comes back home ready to admit that he's sorry and that now he will be nice and obedient. His being a big baby and going off like that changed everything. You're the man of the house now, baby. And especially you're my main man when it comes to the bedroom and don't you forget that. We need to be bigger than Danny and take him in. Even though he doesn't really deserve it."