The Convertible - Kiss from a Rose

He stopped his kissing and got off the bed. I lay there breathing slowly, my eyes closed. I heard the rustle of his pants hitting the floor, then felt the warmth of his body pressing on top of mine, pressing me into the mattress. I felt him kiss my bare shoulders and the back of my neck. After each kiss, he would murmur "You're perfect."

Using his knees, he gently spread my legs. I could feel his hardness pressed into my ass crack, then he moved it down to my pussy entrance. By now my juices were flowing, and I cried in pleasure as he slipped right in. As he moved his hardness gently in and out of me, he kept murmuring, "You're perfect". I came rather quickly, and he followed a moment later.

He rolled me onto my side and faced me, and we kissed again for several minutes. Finally, I whispered, "Russ, the question is going to come up sooner or later so before you ask, I want you to know, yes, you're definitely better than my ex-husband.

He was selfish, didn't really think about my satisfaction. You, though," I shuddered with pleasure thinking about what he'd done with me, "you're an amazing lover. You gave me just what I needed."

"Rose," Russ whispered, "What about us? Do you really love me, or am I just a booty call to you?"

I sighed. The pain from Bill trying to manipulate me and Bella's complicity was still fresh. "Russ, you're not just a booty call, you know I genuinely have feelings for you and I want to keep seeing you, please don't ask me for some big emotional declaration. It's just too soon. Can you live with that?" To soothe his disappointment I gave him a long, deep kiss.

He sighed, "I'll take whatever I can get from you Rose, I just don't want to lose you." We snuggled up and went to sleep, not knowing that within a few weeks those words would be tested - and sadly, Russ would fail.

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Part 6 - Love Turns to Ashes

As the weeks went by Russ and I continued dating, I began to feel more and more comfortable with him. I hadn't come out and told him I was in love with him yet, but I had gone so far as to suggest a couple of times that we move in together, but his reply was always that 'it wasn't time yet'.

There's an old saying how at the right time, a forest fire could have been extinguished with a teacup full of water. Russ's refusal to live with me was my teacup moment, and I missed it. What happened next burned everything down. It started off innocently enough, by him saying, "Rose, how about a nice dinner tonight?"

"Sure, sweetie, what did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking a nice Italian meal at Gusto's." Gusto's pan-seared diver scallops over mushroom-parmesan risotto was my favorite; the scallops were flown in fresh from the coast every week.

"You know I love Gusto's, that would be fine."

"How would you feel if I invited Kayla? The kids have told her a lot about you, she said she'd like to meet you in person." I could have not been more stunned if Russ had shot me with a Taser.

I immediately protested, "Russ, are you nuts? Have you noticed how I'm not asking you to meet with my ex-husband? That's because it's a terrible idea! If half of what you've told me about her is true, she's a total bitch. I wouldn't buy her gas station sushi, much less a nice dinner!"

Russ turned on the puppy-dog eyes and pleaded, "Please, Rose, it's more for Rian and Tyler. If Kayla meets you, you won't be a stranger and she'll feel more comfortable about you spending time with the kids. I mean, it's just a meal, right? How bad can it be?" He kissed the back of my hand, the bastard. He knew my weaknesses.

Resigning myself to an awful meal, I sighed, "All right, I'll do it but I still say this is a terrible idea. Please let's make it a short night. I want to spend as little time as possible with her." As it turned out, I got my wish.

Russ and I were seated at the table when Kayla arrived. Whereas I was in jeans, a nice blouse, and stylish leather vest, she was dressed in a low-cut, short, tight green silk dress with 5" heels, as if she was going to a nightclub. I thought to myself if I were a pimp, I could have sold her on the street. As she approached, I was shocked when Russ stood up, like some polite 1950's TV show husband. As she sat down, he introduced us, "Rose, this is Kayla. Kayla, this is Rose McLean."

I extended my hand but Kayla ignored it, wasting no time in firing the first verbal shot, "Wow, Russ, where did you meet her, the Natural History Museum?"

I sighed. This dinner wasn't going to end well, that much was evident. As I took a big drink of my wine I looked at Russ and his eyes were wide with fear; I think he'd just realized the answer to his earlier question of how bad it could be was 'really, really, bad'.

Taking his hand in mine, in a low and slow voice I said, "Russ, Kayla asked you a question. Don't you have anything to say?" He sat there, paralyzed and in a state of shock.

Turning to Kayla, I responded, "Since Russ seems unable to formulate any sentences right now, I'll give you an answer. We met at a casino, and Russ sure didn't see me as an antique when we met. I was the hot sexy number that rocked his bed all night, way better than his frigid bitch of an ex-wife ever did."

The knives were out now, there was no turning back. Kayla fired back, "I was worried my kids were going to start calling you 'mom', but I see now they'll probably start calling you 'great-grandma'."

Wow. Before this got too far out of control I responded, trying to decrease the already high level of hostility for Russ's sake. I couldn't, however, resist getting a bitchy remark in while I was at it.

"Interesting how we just met, yet you're acting like you're threatened by me. Given your level of emotional immaturity, I'm not surprised." Her eyes narrowed, and I could tell that one hit home. Good.

I continued, "Believe me, Kayla, while I adore Rian and Tyler, I'm quite aware you're their mother and have zero interest in taking your place. However, Russ is their father, after all, and the two of you share custody. As much as you don't like it, the children will be spending part of their time with Russ and me."

Kayla said nothing, but I could see she was fuming. I kept at her, "Since you're so self-centered I'm sure you weren't paying attention, but Tyler and Rian only call me 'Miss Rose', not 'Mama'."

I could feel the hostility ratcheting up again, so I softened my tone and tried to reassure the insecure little bitch, "Look, be reasonable. Tyler and Rian love you, you're their mother, and that's never ever going to change. Ever." Bella's betrayal flashed in my head, and I realized I'd probably lied. Sometimes things did change.

Refocusing, I continued, "If I were ever to talk trash about you, it would upset the children. I care a great deal about them, so I'm never going to do that. You can like me or hate me, I could really care less. Just know I do respect the fact you're their mother. I refuse to say or do anything that would paint you in a bad light in their eyes."

If my words sank in, Kayla didn't show it. Instead, she turned to Russ, an easier target, "Russ, what are your intentions with this old mummy? Are you going to keep seeing her? Do you plan on actually marrying this fossil?"

As much as I now hated this bitch, hers was a legitimate question. I took a sip of my red wine and looked at Russ. "Yes, Russ, please enlighten us both. What exactly ARE your intentions with this fossil?" You know that part in that dinosaur movie where a guy finds himself caught between two vicious velociraptors, not sure what to do? That guy was Russ right now.

"Now Kayla," he began, in a voice so placating it made me want to puke, "Rose has become my good friend over the last couple of months, and..." I held my hand up and interrupted. I'd had enough of this charade.

"Russ, I'm going to stop you right there. Was I merely 'a friend' when you were happily unloading your baby juice between my legs all those nights? I seem to recall you calling me a lot of different things, like 'lover', "angel', 'babe', 'silver fox', and even 'perfect', but I don't recall you ever calling me 'friend', not even once."

Russ looked horrified at what was happening, whereas Kayla was looking on smugly. I had to hand it to her, she'd played him like a Stradivarius violin.

Before he could respond, I verbally laid into him again. "How about all those times when you came in my mouth and were literally crying with joy? Do you remember telling me how I was wonderful, how that it was something Kayla never did? Was I just your 'friend' then, too?" My fury had crested; I stood up, took another sip of my wine, then threw the reminder in Russ's face.

Just to give the other restaurant patrons their money's worth, I spoke loud enough for them to hear, "We're done, Russ. If all you want is just a friend, I suggest you adopt a dog because it's not going to be me. Perhaps you should stick to fucking your ex-wife instead. Hell, ask her to marry you again, you two deserve each other."

Then I picked up Russ's wine glass and threw its contents in Kayla's face, if for no other reason than to give me one small moment of pleasure in an otherwise awful night. "If you're going to have sex with him, Kayla, I suggest you practice your blowjob skills because according to Russ, you have none."

Picking up my purse, I tried to maintain as much dignity as possible as I calmly walked out the door. To be honest, I didn't have much left. First I'd been cheated on by my husband, then betrayed by my daughter and my best friends, and now the man I'd stupidly started falling in love with referred to me simply as his 'friend'; I was devastated.

To add insult to injury, when I left, Russ didn't care enough to follow. No 'wait, I didn't mean it that way', not even a 'please Rose, don't go'. We'd driven in together, but I got in the Triumph and drove away by myself. Russ could carpool with his little ex-wife whore for all I cared.

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Part 7 - Payback

Timing is everything. In the case of Carlene, I waited until 1:00pm on a Saturday. Having gone to her salon for so many years, I knew this was her busiest time. Every chair was filled, all her stylists and manicurists were on duty, and since there was a huge Oklahoma City Symphony benefit event that evening, some of her highest-profile society woman customers would be there for last-minute adjustments.

I walked in wearing my nicest pantsuit and most expensive shoes, in full makeup. Carlene's eyes got wide when she saw me, and she rushed up to greet me. "Why Rose, I didn't see you on the appointment calendar. Why don't you wait in my office until a chair comes available, I'm sure we can squeeze you in!"

"No need, Carlene, I just wanted to let everyone in your shop know..."

She interrupted me, desperation in her voice, "Rose, please, let's go in my office to discuss things. I can explain!"

I raised my voice so everyone could hear, "Nothing to explain, Carlene, I know everything. Bill told me how 27 years ago he cheated on me with you. You fucked my husband while I was pregnant."

Carlene's face flushed, "Rose, please it was a long time ago," she whispered.

"Oh, yes, there's that too! That one of my best friends fucked my husband and then kept it secret from me for 27 years, laughing behind my back the whole time." Looking at Carlene, I screamed, "WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, WHORE?"

Then I calmly turned to two of the society regulars getting their nails done. "I'm sure this will make for some fascinating conversations at the Symphony benefit tonight." The look on their faces was pure shock.

Then, as I headed to the door I said loudly, to no one in particular, "Keep an eye on your husbands, ladies, Carlene may be 47 but look at her! She's still hot as hell and a total slut. If she'd fuck her pregnant best friend's husband, she won't hesitate to fuck yours!"

As I walked out into the parking lot, I heard Carlene shout behind me, "Damn you Rose! It wasn't just me! Marla knew!"

Marla. So much for sisterhood being powerful. Carlene stabbed me in the back, but my own sister had stabbed me in the heart. I'd been betrayed by my husband, my friends, my daughter, now my own sister. Could my life get any worse?

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The next two weeks, Bill and I had a series of meetings with the divorce attorneys. I was represented by Jane Aaron, an experienced take-no-prisoners family law attorney. I suspect Bill's attorney Sam Pine got his law degree from the back of a cereal box, because Jane chewed him up and spit him out.

I had initially asked 90% share of our joint possessions, expecting 60%; since I'd foresworn a career to spend 30 years as his supportive wife and mother to his child, the final number Jane got for me was 80%.

Because we were able to achieve a settlement agreement, we avoided having to go to trial. The divorce would be final within a few months. If he was conservative, Bill would have enough money to live comfortably, but that was it. Another page turned.

Part 8 - Burning Bridges Lost Forevermore.

Since our house was in a top-tier school district and had been remodeled a with new appliances last year, we started getting buyer interest as soon as it hit the market. By the 21st of the month the inspections were done, escrow was closed, and a buyer was set to move in the first of the following month. I had no idea where Bill was staying, nor did I care.

My uncle lived by himself in a three-bedroom house on his ranch outside of Nicoma Park, so I arranged to rent a room from him, sharing cooking responsibilities and seeing after his small remuda.

I'd pretty much packed up all the small non-essential things, all that was left was the furniture and a few other items I'd hand-carry to the ranch. I'd rented a dumpster for stuff that I didn't need anymore, like old junk in the attics, Bill's golf clubs and my barrel-racing trophies. The task I'd saved for last was going through 30 years of photographs, saving only a few important ones.

The brick firepit in our backyard was blazing brightly. I'd made a small fire, then started sorting. Family portraits, pictures of Bella growing up, anything with the three of us got added to the flames. I saved pictures of my parents, except for the ones with Bella in them. Fuck that little bitch. My old life was over, this was cleansing. I kept singing refrain from the old rap song, 'Burn, motherfucker, burn'.

The doorbell rang. I opened it, and to my surprise it was my sister Marla with a bouquet - pink roses, lavender carnations, and baby's breath - in a vase. Trying to maintain a modicum of decorum towards my sibling that I wasn't feeling, I placed the vase on the dining room table.

She stood looking at me without saying a word, so I broke the silence, "What are you doing here, Marla? What made you think you'd even be welcome?"

"Rose, I'm still your sister, and I still care about you. I wanted to see if I could help." I felt my resentment rise to the surface, then I exploded.

"HELP me? I think you've already done enough, don't you? Marla, you fucking KNEW my husband was cheating and you didn't tell me! You were more interested in helping Carlene and Bill, you miserable backstabbing bitch! You and that whore Carlene have been laughing behind my back all this time."

Marla pleaded, "Rose, sweetie, I'm so sorry. You were pregnant and in love, I thought if I didn't say anything Bill would realize he'd made a terrible mistake and be a good husband and father. I didn't want to see you get hurt."

I was furious now, yelling, "Well that didn't exactly work, now did it? It's 27 years later, and not only did my bastard husband cheat on me multiple times, but my bitch of a daughter has betrayed me as well. And of course, you, you miserable cunt. You and your slut friends can all go to hell! I hope you all get venereal disease and your pussies all rot. It's a good thing that Mom and Dad aren't here to see what a fucked-up lying bitch of a daughter they raised."

Maybe it was drama, or maybe it was an act of catharsis, but I stepped over to the hall closet and pulled out the old Winchester 101 12-gauge pump-action shotgun I'd used for skeet-shooting as a kid. Pumping a shell into the chamber, I flicked the safety off and pointed it at Marla.

"I swear, Marla, if you or those three other sluts ever come near me again, if you even so much as come to my fucking funeral, I'll blow those fat tits of yours away and I'll be whistling a happy fucking tune while I'm doing it! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" Marla nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "THEN GET OUT!"

Marla turned to go, but said, "Carlene and I did this, Rose, please don't hate Mouse. Nobody told her. She never knew."

"You miserable lying cunt, I said GET OUT!" Putting down the Winchester, I picked up the bouquet and threw it at my sister.

The vase missed Marla's head by 6 inches or so but with the amount of power I put into my throw, when it hit the wall next to her the vase shattered into dozens of pieces. Tiny glass shards, water, and flowers were now scattered all over the entryway. Marla ran out of the house, got in her car, and drove off. I decided to hell with cleaning it up, the people who were buying the house could take care of it.

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Two nights later my doorbell rang. Picking up the Winchester, I made sure there was a shell in the chamber and the safety was off. If it was Marla again, that bitch was about to have her tits shot off. I was a woman who kept her promises, after all.

I pulled open the door, pointing the shotgun barrel at the flat chest of a very shocked Mouse, an even more shocked Russ and Gary standing behind her. Putting the safety on and lowering the weapon, I asked harshly, "What on earth do you assholes want?"

Before Mouse could say a word, Russ spoke up, "Please Rose, I deserve that but not Meredith. All that she's guilty of is formerly being friends with two of the biggest cunts in Oklahoma. She's still your friend, and she loves you."

I barked at him cruelly, "There you go again, Russ. Damsels in distress are really your thing, aren't they? Are you and Gary both fucking her now? I should warn you, she's not as innocent as she looks, she's had more cocks than a fully-stocked henhouse."

I expected Mouse to start crying, and I was right. She'd always been a sensitive little thing, and I was deliberately being mean. Marla had said Mouse never knew, but then again Marla had proven herself to be an untrustworthy sack of shit. If I thought Mouse wouldn't stand up for herself, I was wrong. She came at me, a crying and angry tiny tornado.

"Rose, you BITCH!" She ran up and started hitting me on the arm. Her blows glanced off, I barely felt them (this was Mouse we're talking about, not Muhammed Ali) but her angry words were sinking in. "How could you say such a thing? I'm your friend, and THIS is how you treat me?"

I snapped back, "Yeah, some friend. You, Marla, and Carlene have been laughing behind my back all these years. I told Marla if she came back, I'd shoot her tits off, but since you have the figure of an ironing board there's nothing to shoot at! Just leave, you back-stabbing bitch!"

Mouse surprised me by reaching up and slapping me. I barely felt it, but appreciated the effort it took for her. She was screaming now, "I NEVER STABBED YOU IN THE BACK! I SWEAR I NEVER KNEW! THOSE TWO WHORES KEPT IT A SECRET! I HATE THEM! I HATE THEM FOREVER!"

I realized my lying bitch sister may have actually told the truth for once. Flipping the safety on, I put down the shotgun. I could tell this was real. I felt like a genuine shitheel and apologized. "Well, hell, Mouse. I'm sorry, sweetie." I put my arms around the sobbing woman and held her while she cried.

As my friend sobbed, I looked at Russ and Gary. I wasn't mad at Mouse anymore, but had plenty of anger left for these clowns and as I held her, snapped, "What do you two morons want?"