Hi folks, I know a lot of you don't like this kind of story, but I haven't done one in a while, so it felt right. Thanks for all of the e-mails about last week's story and you will be seeing those nuns again and soon. I'd also like to extend a welcome to my new editor Andy. He did a great job at short notice on this one. As a warning those who like their Bitches burned should probably leave this one alone. SS06
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The rumble of my Mustang's engine somehow failed to wake the sleeping child in his car seat strapped to the tiny seat behind me. I had placed his child safety seat on the passenger side so I could see him out of the corner of my eye.
How he slept through that symphonic cacophony of pistons was beyond me. I would probably wake from death to enjoy it. But perhaps for a two year old the ability to fall asleep during that symphony was simply more proof beyond DNA tests and everything else that he was definitely my son.
Then I spot it. All of my senses come alive as, like the warriors of old, my reflexes prepare my body for battle. My ears separate the sound of an engine that isn't very different from mine, even as my eyes scan the traffic ahead.
I see it then, a heavily customized Camaro. I notice the nice red paint that is obviously a custom job. The body kit seems a bit garish to me, but then not everyone likes my custom grills and chin spoiler.
The driver of the Camaro has seen me and slows. He revs his engine and my heart soars. His death will be epic. His shame and disappointment are at hand. I've already seen his demise in my mind's eye as I see vectors and holes in the ebb and flow of traffic.
He has no idea how the six hundred horses under my hood, will destroy his plastic insect-like little car. The smirk on my lips widens as my foot caresses my accelerator, but then...sanity takes over.
My mind remembers that my son is in the back. My heart's joy plummets and I actually slow to below the speed limit. I look at his black tinted windows and shake my head. He has no idea how lucky he is.
As he moves ahead in traffic, he slows as well. I can sense his disappointment in being denied the battle that never was. I feel it too, but my son's safety is far more important.
Ten minutes later, fresh from the battle that never was, I pulled into a driveway in a nice neighbor hood. The house isn't what it once was. The grass is a bit too long and needs to be edged as well. The hedge needs to be trimmed and there are a few paint chips on the wall of the house.
All of those could be explained away, with the pressure of family life. Sometimes there just isn't enough time in a week to do absolutely everything. What can't be explained away is the lack of joy coming from the house. Many of the houses on the block exude happiness or love, or safety. This one doesn't.
I turn off the engine and before the car goes silent the front door opens. A woman rushes towards the car even as I open the door. The closer she gets the more beautiful she becomes. Thick golden hair falls in waves and curls well past her shoulders. Her breasts are barely contained by the thin t-shirt she wears. Her nipped waist is still, even after giving birth, so tiny that I can get my hands around it. I know this because I've done it so many times.
She smiles as she gets to the car. "How are my boys doing?" she asks.
Even as my face frowns, I'm struck by how beautiful she is.
"He's asleep," I said, trying to keep my voice as free of emotion as possible.
"Okay that's one down," she smiles. "How are you?"
Although every fiber of my being is dying to tell her, I let the question slide. I open the passenger door and pull out the entire car seat. My son doesn't even stir.
"Well at least I can tell my mom that I saw you," she says. "When was the last time you saw her?" I just look at her as I carry my son, car seat and all towards the house.
"Jake, that was a really nice thing you did, yesterday," she says. "You work yourself to the bone all week. No one expected you to go and cut those trees down for her on Saturday and spend all day today taking junior to the zoo. You need some time to have some fun yourself too. Remember all work and no play..."
Again I didn't reply. "So Honey, I was thinking...I could get my mom to watch her grandson this weekend...She's dying to you know? And we could live out your greatest dream. We could fly to New Orleans for that Anne Rice Vampire Ball that you always wanted to go to. And you could dress me up any way you want."
"You don't really want to do that," I said quietly. "You'd hate it."
"Jake, you're right," she said. "But I'd do anything for you. You have to know that. And okay, Jake, maybe I have an ulterior motive, but JJ is two years old now and I'm twenty seven..."
"You're getting better at math," I said.
"Very funny Jake, but you know where I'm heading, right?" she said. "JJ needs a brother or sister and I want to have at least one more before I get too old to chase kids around and this could be a good..."
I kind of zoned out as she droned on about what she intended to do to me as soon as we got to the hotel.
I could see the whole thing playing out in my mind. I could be the headless horseman for my costume and she could be the sexiest vampire EVER. Maybe we'd win the costume contest. She did say that I could dress her anyway I wanted. As I looked at her now I could see her nipples tenting the thin material of the t-shirt.
Even then I could remember the way they got harder and stuck out farther and farther under my fingers. I remembered the way she cooed and molded herself to me. Her legs would spread almost of their own volition. And whenever I touched her she was always wet and ready for me.
Sometimes I'm sure that the reason we went wrong was my fault. Perhaps I left her alone too much. Maybe I even loved her too much, or simply trusted her too much. But for seven years everything I did was for her.
From the very first second I saw her, I fell for her...literally. She was working in a restaurant on the campus of the college I was attending. I took one look at her and stopped what I was doing. I wanted to get closer to her so I took a step towards her and fell over the chair that I had overlooked. I also fell right in front of her and she tripped over me and dropped an entire tray full of plates and food.
She was not a happy camper. Her first action on regaining her equilibrium was to call me every name that she could think of. In my embarrassment I just got up and left the restaurant. Angry, hurt and covered with food, I went back to the house I shared with three other students. I went right into my room and showered. As usual I buried my head in my books. A couple of hours later my best friend Eric burst into my room.
"Get your head out of your ass and come downstairs," he yelled excitedly.
"For what?" I grumbled. "I need to study."
"You study too much," he laughed. "Why the hell are you always studying?"
"Duh, college, remember?" I said over the top of my book.
"See, that's why I bailed on college," she said. I had never heard her voice, but it was as beautiful as the rest of her. I looked up instantly.
"It's all of the studying," she said. "It just bored me to tears." I just sat there listening to her.
"So you accidentally tripped over a chair, huh?" she asked. "Obviously you're better at studying than walking..."
"All I saw was you," I said quietly. She walked towards me and smiled.
"You're so beautiful, that nothing else registered," I continued. "I didn't see chairs or walls or floors or other people. But whether I saw them or not, they were there so I tripped over one."
She laughed then.
"Sorry, I guess you must hear that all the time right?" she nodded.
"Yep, every guy I see wants to take me out for dinner and then take me home and fuck me," she said.
"Sorry," I said. "I need a lot more than that."
"I haven't even offered you that yet," she laughed. "But just out of curiosity, what did you have in mind?"
"I want to give you everything," I said. "...A home of our own, a family, and my heart just to start. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, if you let me.
"Give me some money," she said. "I got fired today. They don't seem to like waitresses who are constantly spilling the food." I handed her my wallet. She reached in and took a twenty.
"Burgers okay?" she asked.
"Huh?" I asked.
"Are burgers okay for OUR dinner?" she asked.
"Sure!" I gushed, liking the sound of the word "Our."
"Be, right back...uhm...?" she said.
"Jacob," I smiled.
"Aubrey," she said smiling back at me.
"Shouldn't I be coming with you?" I asked. She just shook her head.
"You keep studying, Jake," she said. "You need to be smart if you're going to spend the rest of our lives taking care of me, so keep studying."
Two years later we were married and living in our first house. Two years after that, I had started my own company. We manufactured custom prosthetics and orthotics for customers ranging from world class athletes to the average Joe. We also manufactured safety equipment for athletes who wanted to train or compete with minor injuries.
My company was still small enough that everyone knew each other, but profit wise we'd already entertained several offers to buy us out. The problem was that everyone who wanted to buy the company didn't want to keep doing the charity work that we did for kids who'd been injured and couldn't afford their prosthetics.
But I loved what I did and I loved Aubrey, so cashing in and making an ass load of money wasn't really in the picture. But as they say ignorance is bliss. Her parents loved me too. We were one big happy family.
Her parents did keep bothering us about when they were going to start having grandkids to visit, but there were worse problems to have. My friend Steve's in-laws hated him. They kept offering their daughter money to divorce him.
Steve is a doctor. He's part of my team. He helps out by overseeing everything the engineers do in designing the prosthetics. He makes sure that everything is anatomically safe for our patients and also trouble shoots any problems we're having fitting the devices.
I was able to get him because he was fired from two of the three hospitals in our area. He fits in really well.
Aubrey and I were very happy. We took several vacations a year and were inseparable when I wasn't working. She was my entire world. So I wasn't surprised when she started talking about planning our first child. We both decided after several conversations that we should wait a few years until we turned thirty. That would be the perfect time of life. It would also give us a few more years to travel and enjoy each other.
. I guess our timing could have been better, because Aubrey's dad passed a few years ago. His death was hard on my mother in law. It took her a while to get over him. And during that time we bonded. I felt a kindred spirit in my mother in law. Unfortunately, a short time later, I began to feel that something was out of place with Aubrey.
"Jake are you going to love me forever?" she asked me.
"And ever, and ever," I told her.
"What about after we've had your third kid and my ass is fat?" she asked.
"Even more then," I smiled.
"But why?" she asked. It made me wonder about her and about us, then.
"I've told you this millions of times," I said. "Aubrey, we both know that you're beautiful and every guy who sees you wants you. It was that way five years ago when we first met and it will probably be that way forever. But I love you, not just for what you look like, for the person that you are. I love you for the way you come in and drag me away from my computer when you think I'm working too hard. I love you for the way you run around the house in one of my shirts and those big fluffy house shoes and nothing else. I love you for the way you look when we work in the yard and you're sweaty and dirty, with your hair in a mess and all over your face. Aubrey I loved you the first time I saw you and I will until the day I die. I swear it. No matter what happens to us or how you look or how fat, you get...I hate to go Whitney Houston on you, but Ieeeeeeeeeeaieeeeaiiiiii will always love youooooooooooooo!" I finished the last part on one knee in front of her. I know it was corny and maybe I was mugging a bit. I expected her to laugh or hit me or something.
Our eyes locked and tears came from her eyes like water from a sprinkler. The next thing I knew she was running for the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. For the rest of the day she stayed in the room and wouldn't open the door. She told me that she just needed some time.
I was sitting on the deck behind the house watching the sun go down when she slipped into the chair next to me. She inserted her hand into my hand that was the farthest away from her and wrapped my near arm around her.
"Are we okay?" I asked.
"Jake, I'm a girl," she said. "We sometimes react to things in strange ways. Jake I guess after all of this time, it finally hit me just how much you really do love me. I love you too, but this isn't one of those two cute kids in high school things is it?"
"No it's not," I said. "But what brought that on?"
"I just found out that one of the girls I grew up with is getting a divorce. Her husband ran off with his personal assistant. They were in love and married. They have kids and everything. They have all of those years and now nothing. The really crazy thing is that Dana was ready and willing to forgive him. She wanted to chalk it up to him just going a little crazy and having a fling. She wanted to welcome him back home and back into her heart and her bed and everything. The even crazier thing is that he didn't end up with his assistant. He moved on from both of them. Can you imagine it? A six foot blond with tits the size of beach balls and he just got tired of fucking her. So being pretty isn't everything. I guess I realized how lucky I am to not only have fallen in love with the one man who loves me for what's inside me, but to be married to him too."
"Nothing like that will ever happen to us," I told her and I meant it more than anything I had ever said up to that point in my life. Inside I realized that I needed to spend more time with her. I needed to spend more time on us.
"So the next afternoon, I left work early and armed with a stupidly giant bouquet of flowers, I descended on my happy home. My mission was to reassure the woman I loved that I did in fact, love her and would until the end of time.
As I tiptoed through my own house, I was in a good mood. When I didn't find her in the living room, the kitchen, or the bedroom, my mirth began to fade. I heard a yelp from the basement and figured she was probably doing the laundry. Then I remembered the article we'd read about women getting off on the dryer and I flew down the stairs as silently as I could. That was something I wanted to see badly.
I peered stealthily around the corner by the dryer and caught Aubrey with her legs widely spread and her head tilted back. Unfortunately there was someone between them. They were thrusting wildly against each other. As much as I wanted to do something, I was rooted there. Her moans had reached the state of rapid shallow breathing that preludes her climax, much as it did when she had sex with me. I knew her moves before she even did them, as if I was watching a performance of a choreographed dance that I had seen many times.
She pulled him closer to her, putting her hands behind his back. Then she wrapped those exquisite legs around his waist. I knew that would come next but I had already turned to leave. I had stayed as long as I had because I needed to see her in the act.
I needed to have the memory of what she was doing seared into my brain, so there would be no chance for us. I needed the heat of the vision to burn all of my love for her out of my heart.
It was the flowers that gave me away. They fell from my nerveless fingers and rustled against the floor even as I moved up the stairs. It didn't matter, I could hear their gasps as the sudden sound interrupted their union and they separated as if someone was still there to see them.
I don't remember getting into my car and driving away. I don't remember the last time I looked at the house we loved so much. I was in shock. There was no anger, no rage no sense of betrayal. At that point all I had was an overwhelming need to be someplace different. Perhaps it was the survival instinct of the wounded beast that drove me. That need of an injured animal to get away from danger and go somewhere safe to heal, so I could fight another day.
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He wasn't even listening to me. And he had to listen. Perhaps my choice of clothing had been a mistake. But that was another thing I had to find out. I had to know if I could still turn him on. Life sucks sometimes. I had offered him his fondest wish and he had to stop and consider it. I guess it said more about me than it did him. In the time it took him to answer me, my mind wandered.
I had always been pretty. It's a curse more than a blessing. My whole life I've had to put up with being stared at and misjudged. I was always the focus of attention when all I really wanted was to be left alone. There was always some boy or many boys who wanted me even before they knew what they wanted me for.
I was always being nominated for queen of this or that, simply because of the way I looked. In high school there were boys fighting over me. All I could do was to smile and try to be friendly. I had no real interest in boys. I guess I was a late bloomer. Part of the problem was that I was just watching life pass me by. Most of my grades weren't earned. My charms apparently worked on older men as well. I had a solid B- average. Most of the male teachers gave me A's without me turning in any work. One of the female teachers did too. The other female teacher flunked me or tried to. I did as much make-up work as I could for her class and still got a D.
But I graduated from high school and into the real world. I tried college, but since I hadn't really learned anything in high school, I was seriously underprepared for it. After a year of wasting my parents' money, I gave it up.
I noticed again that life was just passing me by. At twenty years old and still as pretty as a new dawn, I had never been...anything. I had never been kissed. I had never been fondled. I was working as a waitress and a failing at it. My boss came to me and told me that I was fired...again. As I went to pick up my check, he had another idea.
Forty minutes later I was no longer a virgin, but I still had a job. The funny thing about it was that I felt nothing. It made me think. For most of my life it wasn't just that life had passed me by, I was disconnected. I didn't feel anything. I had no idea what love was. I also had no true hatred. Over the next couple of years, I started using what I had to get ahead. It wasn't like I became a whore or anything. But if I needed a few bucks for my rent...I got it. If I needed new shoes or an outfit...I got it.
I had no ambition and no long range plans. I dated a lot because I was asked a lot. Most of the guys just wanted a chance to fuck me. Some of them wanted more, but I couldn't give it to them. Even the ones I dated more than once quickly noticed that there was no connection.
And then one day, I was having the shittiest day ever. My boss had already told me that if I dropped one more tray, I was fired. I knew that I'd reached the end of the road there anyway. It had nothing to do with my lack of skill as a waitress. My boss was tired of fucking me. He was putting it to a newer waitress. She was only 19 and had an exotic look. He also told me that she really got into it. What she lacked in beauty, she made up with enthusiasm.