Anger, Hate, and Serendipity

Psychiatrists tell us that anger and hate are destructive feelings that one needs to purge to be healthy emotionally. Maybe so, but how DO you purge righteous anger and hate? That was the question I needed to answer that years of therapy didn't help me with, but destiny did.

My name is Alan Easton. I was a fairly ordinary guy in the large High School I attended in a midsize city in the U. S. While I was told by many girls in High School that I was "real cute," and "very nice," I was shy. I didn't date all that much, although I did lose my virginity my junior year.

I was on the football team and while I had the size, strength and speed to be a starting linebacker I didn't have the dedication or the mean streak necessary, so I didn't play all that much. My football coach was miffed that he could never get the best out of me and constantly prodded "You're too easy going, Easton."

My grades were always decent, but as with football I wasn't that dedicated to my studies so I was no academic star. I did much better on standardized tests than my grades would predict, however. That only led to my teachers being perplexed as to why I didn't do better. "You're too lackadaisical," was a common refrain of my Physics teacher.

My mother had died before I got into my teens, but my older sister, Kerri, was a strong female influence, and my father was a great dad, so I had a good family life. Even though Kerri was only average size for a woman, if toughness was bulk she would be four hundred pounds – she wasn't, and isn't, intimidated by anything. My father had part ownership interest in, and worked as the service manager of, a car dealership so we were always in decent financial shape.

Like the majority of kids in my class I had planned to go to college after High School. However, my senior year my plans changed when Janet Hatfield either bedazzled me, or sunk her claws into me, depending upon how one viewed her.

Janet was the sexiest female in my High School class. While her dress and hairdo were normally slutty she had God-given looks that any male would drool over. While the rest of her family might correctly be described as "trailer trash," she had obviously risen above her surroundings and somehow managed to get decent clothes and talk without sounding like a hick or a moron. In fact though not academic she was highly intelligent, as well as manipulative, devious, and driven.

Although Janet had always been pleasant to me since I first knew her in seventh grade, I never considered her attainable, nor did I ever notice a romantic or sexual interest by her in me. That changed right after football ended my senior year when she became very attentive.

At first I was taken aback by her obvious pursuit of me, but being a red-blooded male my stiff cock whenever she was around caused me to ask her out. After a couple of double dates to the movies, and after attending a school dance and outing together, she really came on to me.

Janet had subtly inquired about my sister's and father's schedules, and when she found out that my sister was away at college and my father worked until 6:30, she invited herself over to my house after school one Wednesday. The ostensible reason was for me to help her with her math homework. In fact the only thing she wanted to study was anatomy.

While before that Wednesday I had had a make-out session with Janet where I got to feel her up, we hadn't done anything really serious. However, within fifteen minutes of after we got into my house we were both naked, I was lying on my back in the living room, and she was riding me like an award-winning cowgirl.

I found out that day what continued to be Janet's most outstanding quality – she could fuck! If fucking were translated into academic aptitude test scores she would be considered a genius.

I was stunned and overwhelmed when she mouthed my cock so diligently and powerfully that had it been a trailer hitch the chrome would have been sucked off. When she impaled her snug pussy on my impossibly hard cock just before I was about to cum in her mouth she immediately started bucking and twisting, while simultaneously undulating her pc muscles. After I almost passed out from the mammoth load I jettisoned into Janet, I was hers.

In addition to being an incomparable fucker she also had a high libido. After the first time we fucked almost every school day after that, as long as no one was home at my house. Also, we usually found a friend's house – or when the weather got nice a secluded outdoor area – to fuck at least once each weekend. She gave, and taught me how to give, great oral, and likely had memorized the kama sutra if the positions she contorted our bodies into were any indication.

The rest of the school year I was as happy as a pig in shit. My grades actually improved because my attitude on life improved. Even my father noticed, and complemented me on, my upbeat persona.

After Janet and I had fucked about two months she made it clear that she anticipated a long term commitment from me. Not ever shy about saying what she wanted, she expected us to get married after High School and to start a family a few years after that. Janet was obsessed with ultimately becoming a good mother. She wanted to put her dysfunctional family in the rear view mirror and give her kids the time, devotion, and love that she had always been missing.

My plans about going to college changed. Despite contrary advice from my sister Kerri, my father, and a number of my friends, I was determined to start a job right out of High School to support us. "You're thinking with your little head, not your big one," was a common refrain by my family and friends but since it was absolutely true it fell on deaf ears.

A month before the wedding my best friend said/asked: "How do you think she got so good at sex, and do you think she's going to be satisfied with just you once you're married? I heard that she got that two grand for your wedding by entertaining an entire bachelor party." Not only didn't his words cause me to think, it got him knocked on the ground after I punched him in the mouth. I had fallen in love with Janet, so I didn't believe anything bad about her, and nothing was going to change my mind.

Janet's trailer trash family obviously couldn't pay for the wedding, but with money that she and I got from part-time jobs, my dad's help, and the $2,000 "windfall" that my friend had mentioned that Janet allegedly got from some mysterious extended family member, we had a small but pleasant ceremony and unpretentious reception.

I thought that I had seen all that Janet had to offer before the honeymoon. Not even close. During our five day honeymoon she fucked me once just by squeezing and releasing her pussy; I did no stroking at all. She had me fuck her ass; we used a butt plug in her several times when I fucked her pussy; and she taught me the Sicilian Corkscrew.

I started work, at the car dealership my dad had part interest in, the day that we got back from our fuck-fest masquerading as a honeymoon, and Janet started working at a bank.

For two years things seemed to go well. Our sex life was certainly good, perhaps even better than our pre-honeymoon experiences. Janet seemed happy, but not content. She started making more and more comments about material things that she would love to have, but that our relatively meager salaries could not afford. She often questioned me about whether my father, who she considered to be wealthy because of his part ownership in the car dealership, could help us more.

I asked Janet about starting a family but she was adamant that until we were in an excellent financial situation she wasn't going to. She had every intention of quitting work and doting on her children full time when we had them.

We had been married almost two years when disaster struck me. My father died of a heart attack at work. I was working as a salesman in the used car lot when I heard the commotion in the service area. I arrived in time to see my father draw his last breath just before the paramedics arrived.

I was devastated. Since my mother died he was my rock. Kerri had just finished college a month before and was living at home while looking for a job. She took dad's death hard too, but she is a much stronger person than I am.

Janet was supportive during the lead up to the funeral and for a few days afterward. She didn't shed tears like Kerri and I did, but was at my side. Once the dust had settled, though, she started asking more and more about my dad's will and when it would be probated. That upset me and I told her so, but she still kept at it.

About two weeks after my father died Janet, Kerri, me, and an Aunt and Uncle from out of town, went to the reading of the will. I think that we were all surprised that dad's ownership in the dealership was only three percent, and that he had a second mortgage on the house. He obviously had used the mortgage money to purchase his interest in the dealership. Ultimately it meant that once his interest was sold to the majority owner, at a price we were not in a position to bargain over, and the mortgages on the house paid off, Kerri and I would each get on the order of $10,000.

Although Janet didn't say anything, I could tell that steam was rising from her ears. That ended her compassion and support. After that she was a different woman.

I tried my best to re-kindle our relationship, but Janet was cold and uncaring. Sex became infrequent and when we had it she douched immediately afterward, something she had never done before. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to get cut off completely. When we did have sex she was still the consummate fucker, always leaving me with a sore dick, blistered tongue, and warm feeling.

Three months after the reading of the will I came home to our rented apartment to find no Janet but a note above a stack of papers.

"Hey Alan:

I want to have kids but you can't support them the way I want. I'm moving on to greener pastures. I took more than half the money out of our pathetic bank account since I'm leaving you all the furniture. Don't try to contact me – call my attorney if you want anything. His name is on the divorce papers below this note.

Good luck, Janet."

Yeah, that was what was below the note. A stack of papers asking for a divorce based upon irreconcilable differences. I guess that meant that I wasn't the potential gravy train that she thought, and therefore expendable. I was just the first step out of her trailer trash life.

I tried to get in touch with her but her lawyer insisted that she had no interest in talking with me. I was heartbroken since I really had loved the bitch. How could I have not seen that she never loved me, though?

Fortunately, Kerri still lived in town and had a good job. Since I could no longer afford the apartment without Janet's income I sold the furniture and moved in with her for the short term.

Only Kerri kept me from being completely morose as I merely went through the motions of life for the next six weeks. Then I found out from some of my friends that Janet was now living with a wealthy real estate developer and was wearing maternity clothes. Now I was really pissed and called her lawyer again and demanded to see Janet.

"Actually, Mr. Easton, I was going to call you," Janet's attorney told me. "Janet is pregnant and will be amending her petition for divorce to request child support!"

Again I was stunned. I had just signed the papers for an uncontested divorce with the split of our finances that Janet had already engineered, with no alimony either way. That was the moment I became a new man. "No more Mr. Nice Guy," I said to myself as I lit into her attorney.

"Tell that fucking slut that if she asks for child support I will immediately request a paternity test and retract my agreement to the divorce. I've heard that there are a number of techniques for determining paternity in the womb. If it turns out to be my kid then I'll pay for the test; if it's not, then she pays for the test and I file for a divorce based upon adultery and will ask for alimony and a redistribution of our few assets. Got that Asswipe!" I screamed, slamming down the phone.

I never got any formal papers requesting child support because I knew that the fetus was not mine, but now any love I had for Janet had been replaced by anger and hate.

When the divorce became final two months later Kerri came home from work to find me drunk and babbling. Though I was in a fog I had never seen her so mad. She called me every name in the book and essentially told me to man up and be happy that "The Slut," as she now always referred to Janet, was out of my life. Kerri then pushed me into my bedroom and she slammed the door shut yelled "Don't come out until you're sober!"

I fell asleep wallowing in self-pity. When I awoke I could smell bacon and eggs cooking. Kerri was in the kitchen.

"I called both of our places of work and told them we wouldn't be in until the afternoon," Kerri said, motioning for me to sit and then putting a plate of aromatic food in front of me.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because we're going to have a talk and it will probably take a while for me to get through your thick fucking skull what you need to do, that's why!"

Like I said, Kerri was tough.

Within two hours Kerri had convinced me that I needed to move at least five hundred miles away, that I should at least get an associate's degree by going to Community College at night, and that I had to put the bitch behind me, and if I couldn't I needed to go for professional help.

Within a month I was on my way. I moved to an area of the country where construction was booming, got a job as a laborer, rented an efficiency apartment, and enrolled in the local Community College, starting night classes in two months.

When my body finally adjusted to manual labor I found out that I really enjoyed getting in better shape even than when I had played football. I also found out that my High School teachers were right to be disappointed in my academic performance because when I applied myself like I did in Community College I found out that I could be a star. Despite going to night school, I graduated with an associate's degree in civil engineering and a minor in business in just two school years and two summers.

I didn't really date. I did fuck about once a week (multiple times when I did find someone to fuck, however). Mostly it was sluts I picked up for a one night stand from a bar. Once in a while, if I was really horny and couldn't pick up a slut, I fucked a prostitute. None compared to Janet so they never really made me think about her. In fact I was prideful that I was putting her out of my mind.

Thirty months after I moved I got a job as a manager with the same construction company I had been working for as a laborer. I had gotten to know the foreman really well, and then through him the owner. They both thought that I had talent. My pay was now four times what I made when I moved, and I had saved a fair amount in the meantime since Community College tuition was minimal. I decided to treat myself the weekend after I got my new job by hiring a call girl, not a prostitute. I found an agency through a buddy of mine who vouched for me with them, and selected "Desiree," obviously just her stage name, from photos on the agency's "Escort" web page.

The price was steep; $900 for three hours, but I was convinced that I really deserved it. When Desiree showed up at my apartment at 8:00 p. m. on Saturday she was twice as sexy in real life as in her photos.

When Desiree walked into the door she closed and locked it behind her. We looked each other over carefully after saying nothing more than "Hi, I'm Desiree," and "Hi, I'm Alan." Surprisingly it wasn't the least bit awkward. She spoke first, with a big smile on her face.

"My last two 'dates' were old and fat. I deserve a hunk like you after them. I hope that you've been saving up because I'm gonna fuck your brains out, stud."

Next to Janet, Desiree was the sexiest woman I had ever seen live in my life. She had a diabolical look, big tits, a slim body, and muscular thighs sticking out from her miniskirt.

Desiree was apparently turned on by muscle. My work as a laborer, and then trips to the gym once I started doing office work in place of much of my manual labor, had bulked up my arms and chest.

Desiree started stroking my arms and chest, removed my shirt, pinched my nipples, and then passionately kissed me. "Shit, I didn't think call girls kissed," I said to myself, but I wasn't about to turn it down.

I quickly disrobed her, pushed her back on my couch, and started eating her pussy while simultaneously fingering it with one hand and squeezing a nipple with another. "Damn, she's different than a prostitute," rang through my mind as I licked up her sweet nectar as she pulled my hair and moaned loudly.

After she came down from her second orgasm she kissed me deeply then spun around and pushed me onto the couch. She instantly got my pants and boxers off then shoved my rock hard dick into my mouth while she fondled my balls. I was ready to cum quickly but I wasn't about to waste an orgasm in her mouth.

"I need to fuck --- badly!" I whined.

Her mouth was off my cock in an instant as a condom magically appeared in her hand and was soon covering my dick. As soon as it was in place she impaled herself on me. "How can a call girl's pussy be so tight?" flashed through my mind as she started riding me. I bucked back as best I could considering my position on the couch, while I alternately sucked and massaged her big tits. She was so energetic that I came faster with a condom on than I ever had before, and she appeared to have her third orgasm when I did.

Once we both recovered a little I said "Damn, Desiree – you're beyond awesome!"

"I pride myself on being a great fuck, IF I have a great partner – partner!" she replied, laughing.

We chatted for a while, I sucked on her tits, and then we went back to the bedroom. We had another condom fuck with her in the wheelbarrow position. She was almost comatose after that, but I put her back on the bed then ate her to another orgasm.

The last orgasm really wiped her out. She lay on the bed babbling. I snuggled up to her – something I hadn't done for a long time – and she fell asleep. I shortly followed her.

She started stirring, which woke me up too. I looked at the clock. "Shit, Desiree," I said, "it's 2 a.m. You've been here for six hours, but I only paid for three!"

She groaned. "If you promise not to tell the agency I'll stay the night. No way in hell I'm going home at this hour."

That was about the easiest decision I ever made in my life. "Deal," I blurted out.

Desiree started kissing me again. After a few minutes of actual tenderness she moved down to my cock again and started sucking and licking it like crazy. She seemed to be getting hot. Suddenly she was impaled on my cock again and riding me like a prize bull. We had another gargantuan simultaneous orgasm and I hallucinated that I didn't feel the restraints of a condom.

When I woke up the next morning I couldn't believe that I was still cuddling Desiree. I looked at her sleeping and was turned on again. I moved the sheet back to look at her spectacular pelvis and then I saw it. A creampie in her pussy; I wasn't hallucinating, the last fuck was without a condom.

I gently woke her up. She kissed me and said "I hope you got your money's worth."

"About ten times over," was my response. "However, there is a problem."

"Oh yeah, what?" she replied.

"Our last fuck was without a condom," I said, pointing to her creampie.

"Shit!" she exclaimed. "Here this is only my fifth job and already I violated about twelve rules. I'll get fired if they find this out," she wailed.