Eat Your Fuckin Cake!

A word from Saxon Hart: Just a quick note for those who have read this one before. First; I have included the original ending after the story, no need to e-mail me for it. Second; While it was originally edited, I have gone through it and tightened it up. I saw many things that were missed in the original edit and I cleaned those up, as well as doing a few changes to improve the flow. I hope you enjoy this.....

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Author's note. First I am going to answer a question that may come up as you read this. The answer is yes I know the difference between Burt Young, the actor; and Neil young, the rocker. Burt makes a funnier looking lawyer I think so I went that way. SH

"One more outburst from you, Mr. Ericson, and I will hold you in contempt of court!" The judge's face turned a bright shade of red and I had to stifle a chuckle at her almost comic expression. "Mr. Young, I strongly advise that you get a rein on your client."

I had been warned a few times already, but it's hard not to say "fuck" when "fuck" is a staple of your vocabulary and you're dealing with fucktards like the judge. I once had a guy tell me that he'd never met anyone who said "fuck" more than I do. Maybe I do say it a lot. I have to admit it just flows without thought.

Just as I started to speak I saw the judge tense up and Burt Young, my attorney and soon to be partner in the law firm where he worked, warned me to not speak so openly towards the judge, unless I wanted to spend a night in jail. The court recorder stifled a giggle as I am sure they were bracing themselves for the torrent of f-bombs that were likely to fly from my mouth

On the other side of the court room my ex best friend, his wife, and my soon to be ex-wife sat nervously looking around the room. Robin, my soon to be ex, looked shamed and downtrodden. Bruce sat there with defeat on his face and Cheryl; his wife sat looking pissed off. She obviously didn't like all of their dirty laundry being aired in court.

So by now you might be wondering about the events that led up to me being admonished by the simpleton fuck in the black robe about my conduct in her sham er, I mean court room. It all started one day, we'll call it Tuesday, because it was a Tuesday.

My name is Jack Ericson. I am a 32 year old foreman in the city maintenance department for the city of Stonemoore, Colorado. I started with the city two days after I graduated high school. In winter I plow the major thoroughfares, in summer I do whatever needs to be done. Robin works a few hours a week at the church as a break from her housework.

Our city maintenance department is split into four quadrants. Each quadrant has its own supervisor, and a foreman. I am not that supervisor. I never went to college, and use common sense so I could never get the position. Also I avoid having anyone's dick near my mouth; another disqualifier. Usually if a supervisor tells a crew to do something, they will ask someone like me before they waste their time. All of the foremen were promoted into their jobs while supervisors were directly hired.

Monday evening had brought one of those nasty ass June thunderstorms that produced a lot of high wind and hail. My quadrant got hit the hardest with the wind and hail so we had a lot of tree limbs and other debris to clear out of streets. I had six crews going around with dump trucks picking up that stuff.

I drove around in a pickup with a list of street flooding complaints. I'd check each complaint area to see if storm drains were blocked with debris. If they were I'd call out one of the two vacuum trucks I had at my disposal.

I also had four street sweepers running all day long. In the afternoon I surveyed problem alleys to see if we'd have to bring in gravel soon for them. None of my three parks got mowed; I'd have to get crews on that in the morning.

My wife Robin and I had a nice four bedroom two story home in an older neighborhood. We couldn't afford to live with the rich folk on the southwest side of town, but we didn't live in the east side gangland either.

We got along fabulously with our neighbors. Tom and Jeri McBain lived next door, Ron and Cindy Wood lived directly behind Robin and I, and my childhood friend Bruce Harris lived behind the McBain's with his wife Cheryl. All four households got along so well that we had no fences separating our back yards.

Bruce and I have been friends since we were in middle school. I got him in more trouble than he knew how to get out of and to make matters worse, his parents were extra religious while mine gave less than a fuck about "What God said." Dad often told me as long as I didn't knock some girl up or cost him a bunch of money he really didn't give a fuck what I did.

Most of the time if Bruce's mom and dad were going to nail him for something I'd tell them I did it and he was mistakenly blamed. I know they hated me so their opinion of me didn't really matter.

Bruce grew up to be as religious as his parents, if not worse. He went to a bible college and became a preacher. He is the pastor at one of the local churches. I don't go to church except for Easter and Christmas. Robin, on the other hand, goes to church religiously, pardon the pun.

While Bruce was at Bible College he met Cheryl. Cheryl could have been a Playboy playmate. Cheryl is 5'7" 110 pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes, and had 36D-24-34 figure. With all of that going on she is a prayer machine. Bruce is like the yin to my yang, but there isn't a damned thing I wouldn't do for him. Or so I thought.

I got home on Tuesday evening to find that I had to warm up leftover meatloaf from Sunday for dinner. I really didn't mind doing that, but my wife hadn't actually cooked a weekday meal in a few months.

I wanted to sit and put away a twelve pack, but the red dot on the calendar for that day told me I could have one beer with dinner and no more the rest of the night. Red dot days were the days I was on emergency stand by and could get called out at moment's notice to handle some issue.

I ate my dinner while Robin showered. I wished she'd spend as much time paying attention to my cock as she did in the damn shower. It was 7:00PM and I wasn't sure if I'd see her again that evening. I got a half assed "How was your day?" when I got home and that was about it.

This bullshit had been going on now for a couple of months and I was getting a bit tired of it. The worst part was our sex life. We used to get it on three maybe four times a week. In the past three months I had gotten Saturday night sex twice, missionary only, and two weak half assed tug jobs. She didn't even seem to notice me anymore, and that night was no exception, so I watched the Rockies play the Padres on TV and wished I could get my Jägermeisteron.

Around 10:00 I was contemplating going to bed when my phone rang. I figured it would be Bruce bitching about the Rockies' bats failing miserably that night, or asking me to have my guys do something around his church, but it was the city/county dispatch calling to tell me of a water main break on the north side of town near the Birchwood Mall.

I packed a few snacks in my lunch cooler, and headed out the door. I almost went upstairs and told Robin what was going on but decided "Fuck her!" She didn't seem to give a shit anyway, so let the cunt figure out on her own that I wasn't coming to bed.

I got to the city yard and got the keys I needed. While I was waiting for my crew, which would be made up of guys from every quad that night, plus a supervisor from the city water department, and four of their guys, I hooked a trailer up to the new Kenworth dump truck and loaded a Caterpillar backhoe on it.

By time I was done loading that my crew was there and we all headed for the place where we figured the break was. When we got there it was obvious that the North West crews hadn't gotten to the storm sewers here because the street was flooded. I sent a couple of guys back to get a vacuum truck.

It was 1:00 in the morning before I pierced the pavement with the backhoe. With all of the water still on the street it was slow going. By 3:00 we had the pipe exposed and began hauling away the mud I had dug out of the hole. We would have fresh dry sand and gravel from the city gravel pit to fill the hole back in.

At 8:45AM the water guys had finally reconnected the pipe and tested their join. The building inspector Ok'd the fix around 9:30 and by noon we were ready to re pave the area. Since the paving would be handled by a separate contractor I was able to get the equipment back to the yard by 1:00.

At 1:45 I was pulling into my driveway with the knowledge that I was off work until Friday now. I unlocked the door and went inside. Robin didn't appear to be home. She was off doing whatever the fuck it was that she did all damn day, which lately didn't seem to include housework.

I went into the kitchen to grab a beer and a sandwich. I had just closed the fridge when I heard the unmistakable sound of a woman getting the fucking of her life. I seemed to be coming from upstairs. I listened for a moment and was pretty sure the sound was from upstairs.

"No wonder you don't fuck me anymore you filthy whore," I said to myself as I headed out of the kitchen. I opened the coat closet and pulled my Kimber Custom Crimson 45 from its hiding place and made my way up the stairs.

The sound was louder upstairs. I could see the door to the master bedroom was ajar so I walked stealthily up to it. I jumped through the door and leveled the pistol at the bed. No one was there. I quickly checked the bathroom just off of the bedroom and it too was deserted.

Back in the hall I was left with two choices. The guest bedroom door was closed. "At least she respected our marriage bed" I thought to myself. I opened the door and once again leveled the pistol at an empty room.

The only room I hadn't explored was Robin's craft room. I pictured her bent over her sewing table with a cock flying in and out of her cunt. I kicked the door open and jumped into the room ready to kill. The room was empty but the sound was loud in there. When I noticed the window overlooking the back yard was open, I looked out to see if she was fucking in the back yard. I saw that needed to mow my grass, but no one was in the yard. As I scanned the yards around my house I got the shock of my life. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?"

Tom and Jeri have a pool. I looked that way and saw Tommy and Brenda, the McBain children, fucking like rabbits on a chaise lounge by their pool. Tommy was a junior in college and Brenda was due to start her freshman year in the fall. She'd had a crush on me since she was twelve or so, and I absurdly wondered if she thought of me at that moment.

Neither one of them was anything to look at. Brenda did have a killer body though, and her bountiful jugs were wiggling wildly as Tommy pounded her. Then it struck me that I was witnessing incest. "I thought shit like this only happens in Mississippi and places like that." I said to myself.

I knew I shouldn't watch, but it was like a train wreck. I just couldn't look away. I wondered if Tom or Jeri had any clue this shit was going on in their home. I doubted it. They weren't as straight laced as Bruce and Cheryl but I doubt even the wildest people I knew would condone that.

"I bet they're watching us. Look at them Bren." said Tommy.

"Oh fuck that's so hot." said Brenda. She looked to her left and I followed her gaze. I could see Bruce's bare back in the upstairs window of his house. He was obviously fucking Cheryl. I thought I'd hang for a few minutes as that might have been the only chance I'd ever get to see Cheryl naked.

Then Bruce and his partner turned around. "MOTHER FUCK!!!!!" I yelled so loudly that the sex stopped in the yard below. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Bruce was fucking my Robin!!

I froze, not sure exactly what to do. I raised the pistol up and took aim at Bruce. Movement below caught my attention at the last second; it was Tommy and Brenda running stark ass naked for their house. I looked back up intending to send some lead Bruce's way, only to find that they had left the window.

"Motherfucking god damned filthy fucking whore!" I yelled as I went down the stairs. I stopped in my den long enough to grab my Mossberg Bull Pup and slam a hand full of 00 Buck shells into the mag. Bruce was going to die. The whore was going to die. Cheryl's fucking cat and parakeet were fair game as well,

I was going to kick his door in and lay waste to him and his whore. I tucked the pistol into the waist of my jeans and headed out of the door. I stopped about halfway down my driveway and just stood. I now understood a lot of things. I knew why my house wasn't clean. I knew why my meals came out of the freezer. I knew why my cock was neglected. I knew why the cunt took so many fucking showers that they were ready to name the city reservoir after me.

I walked back up my driveway and got into my truck. I backed out and left tire marks on the street as I headed for Lowe's. On the way I contemplated everything I knew now. She never cooked anymore because Bruce was wearing her out. She couldn't operate a mop or vacuum cleaner while she was getting her freak on either.

Biggest question I had was; "Why would the two people in the world I was supposed to be able to count on the most stab me through the heart like that?" I was on auto-pilot. I got to Lowe's and went directly to the door section and picked up three new lock sets. Jeannie at the paint counter waived at me and I almost didn't notice. I half assed waved back.

When I got home Brenda and Tommy were waiting in my drive way. "What do these perverts want?" I asked myself. They looked like I was going to march them off to the gallows.

Brenda offered me a sheepish smile. "We're sorry to have disturbed you Mr. Ericson. We didn't mean to offend you, it's just..."

I cut her off. "Look, I give less than a shit if you two fuck each other until your pussy falls off. It's none of my business. You guys aren't even on my radar of problems right now."

They turned sheepishly and walked toward their own house. I felt Brenda's eyes on my ass as I walked into my house. I set the lock sets down and went to find my tools. As I approached the kitchen I felt my blood boil. There sitting at my table was Bruce.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house you stupid cock sucker?"

"I came to talk to you as a friend..."

"Friend?" I laughed bitterly, "Fuckin A that is rich. With friends like you who needs an enemy? Do you think I am just going to say 'Hey Bruce ole buddy how was my wife's cunt this morning?"

"Jack it doesn't have to be this way. We..."

"Your right O Bruce Old pal o mine. Do me a favor and hand me that butcher knife." I slid a knife across the table to him. He looked at it and then looked at the Kimber in my hand.

"Come on Jack," he said a tad bit shakily. "You can't seriously expect..."

"PICK IT UP FUCKER! You love Jesus so damn much I want you to meet him! Now pick up the fucking knife and let me put the make my day law to good use, you trespassing piece of pious shit!"

Bruce jumped up and ran for the door. He stopped on the porch and turned back, "Jack we've been friends forever. Are you willing to throw that away?"

"I lost two people dear to me today Bruce. But I think when I get past all of it I'll realize it really isn't a loss. Where's Robin?"

"She's at my house. She's afraid to come over here."

"You tell her she has five minutes to get her cheating ass over here if she wants even the slightest chance of staying married to me. Now get the fuck off my property before I risk prison just to feel better."

Bruce scurried off and I wondered how long it would take Robin to drag her cheating ass home. Four minutes later I wondered no more. I heard her sniveling and sobbing long before I saw her. I bet people wondered what was going on when they saw Robin walking up the sidewalk crying her eyes out. She reached to hug me and I moved a step back. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself."

"But I love you baby. There's no one I want to spend my life with but you."

"Let's go inside, these assholes around here don't need to know our business."

I went into the living room and sat on my favorite chair. She sat on the love seat and asked me, "Would you sit here next to me?"

"Fuck no." I have never liked uncomfortable silences or pregnant pauses so I jumped right in. "So how long have you been fucking that shit heel?"

"He loves you like a brother. He's your best friend Jack."

"Was my friend. I doubt it. Friends don't fuck their friends' wives."

"It's just sex. I still love you."

"What a fucking crock of shit! It's just sex. Whoever thought of that fucking excuse needs to have their head caved in with cinder blocks." I yelled.

"There's no need to be angry. You still have me, I'm not going anywhere."

"The fuck you aren't! You are choosing Bruce over me and our marriage. You can't give me five minutes of your time anymore but you can bend over for him at the drop of a fucking hat. How fucking wonderful." I felt a headache coming on and put my head in my hands. She started getting up and walking towards me. "Sit the fuck back down. I hope it is worth a decade of marriage that you are tossing in the shitter babe."

"I'm not tossing our marriage out. We can stay married. I'll just have sex with Bruce. I just love the way his cock feels in me. I don't love him, just his cock. He says I can come take care of your needs once or twice a week."

"Well, isn't that mighty fucking white of him? I think I'll just go find myself someone else to take care of my needs."

"NO! You're my husband and no one needs to have sex with you except for me! We are still man and wife."

"Not much longer at this pace. Ex-wife is more fitting for a cunt that drops trou for a hypocritical cock sucker like Bruce Harris."

"No," she cried. "Please don't talk like that. I love you with all of my heart, but I love Bruce's big penis too. You just need to understand. Bruce has it all planned out baby. We all can be happy."

"Oh I fucking understand perfectly. You wish to have your cake and eat it too. "

"It's not like that at all."

"Then fucking explain it to me damn it!"

"I can't. You'd never..well um, I think...Bruce wants me back in three minutes."

"What the fuck are you babbling about, you fuckin' nimrod?"

She looked like I had slapped her. "You've never called me names. You've never talked this way to me. What's gotten into you?"

"Oh well, let's see what might have me a tad bit on edge. It might have something to do with the fact that I haven't slept since six AM yesterday morning and I worked all damn night. Or it might just be that I got home to find my wife fucking a guy that wasn't me. YOU STUPID FUCKING CUNT!"

She was crying and headed for the door.

"That's it you filthy whore. Go to Bruce; go get some of the thick cock your whore ass craves!"

She turned around at the door. "I don't see why we can't keep things like they are right now. It's not like you are home all the time. I can be his while you are at work and four or five nights.."

I slammed the door so hard I thought it splintered. "FUCK YOU!!!! GO EAT YOUR FUCKING CAKE!!!" I yelled so loud that my throat hurt for half an hour afterwards.

I sat with my back to the door for a while doing something that made me feel quite unmanly. Dad would have whipped my ass if he'd seen me with tears. So I sucked it up and got on with my tasks. I changed the lock sets on all of my doors and recoded the garage door opener.

At four I decided to take a break. I was dragging ass and needed to sit. I flipped on the TV and tuned into Jerry Springer. "How fitting today. A show about incest and cheating whores." I didn't make it very far with Jerry as exhaustion took me.