Five a.m. approximately an hour before I'd rouse my tired bones from bed, and I felt a stirring on the king-sized mattress next to me. It could have been a snake winding its sinewy body towards my loins, but it wasn't. I tried to think about ice bergs, baseball and 500 lb. 87 year old women with yeast infections; anything to keep my dick from reacting to my beautiful wife's charms. My battle was lost though as soon as those manicured fingernails that I'd spent so much fucking money on touched my legs. My penis started to inflate like a weather balloon.
Okay my will power was not great, so I took the better part of valor. Pretending that I didn't know the bitch was trying to give me a blow job I got out of bed and headed for my morning shower, leaving her dazed and confused in my wake. Outwardly no sign of what I'd missed showed. But inside I was laughing my ass off at the silly bitch's transparent attempt at seduction.
Okay I know you're confused. I just talked about turning down the classic early morning blowjob from a truly beautiful woman didn't I? Something about that just seems crazy, doesn't it? Well don't beat yourself up over it, until a few days ago it would have seemed foreign to me too.
My name is Anthony Blake, my friends call me Tony of course, I'm 5' 10", brown hair and eyes, a little on the slim side, but no one so far has complained about it.
I'm 36 years old so I'm still young enough to start over I guess, but I wonder why I'd want to even think about it.
My wife Jenna has super human skills and abilities. She can disguise her true form and make you think she's something that she isn't. Don't worry she got me too.
You see for the past 6 years I've thought of and saw her as a goddess given human form, but she's actually the most venomous fucking snake, that I've ever run into. Jenna is five feet and nine inches of absolutely unbelievable feminine pulchritude.
I know what you're thinking. No one appeals to everyone. There are guys who like legs, guys who like big tits, guys who like big asses, and so on and so forth. When it comes to Jenna there are only two types of guys, the ones who like her, and the ones who aren't breathing.
Imagine that perfect girl next door face, long pretty blonde hair and big green eyes. The girl you could bring home to mom, but at the same time have your dad green with envy. Can you see her? Now take that girl's head and put it on the body of that porn star Sarah Jay, now you have Jenna. She has it all, the innocent but gorgeous girl next door charm, backed up with a body created just to make men do really stupid things. Her breasts are so large that it looks like she has three heads. Her ass launches boners from fifty yards away, whether it's covered by a skirt, shorts or even long pants. Okay by now some of you are thinking that she's a fatty, nope her waist is only 22 inches. Her body is certifiably incredible. And up until a few days ago I thought it was all mine. I was also stupid enough to believe that I had her heart was as well.
Let's go back to Tuesday of last week so I can bring you up to speed. You're going to hate me when I tell you this but I don't do shit for a living. I grew up in California. Right now you're thinking I'm some rich kid, who grew up near the fucking beach, and I really hate to disappoint you but I've barely ever seen a beach. Most of the time when I did, I was watching it on TV, like you do.
I worked my ass off in college, in Michigan of all places. I majored in Business, at U of M, Go Blue!
Anyway I came home and had a couple of really shitty assistant manager jobs until my Grandfather died and left me what had been previously thought of as worthless land. My dad didn't want it, so it passed down to me. It was arid scrub land, not usable for farming or raising cattle. The location sucks so none of the movie companies were interested in it, and I originally tried to sell it myself. Luckily for me I couldn't find a buyer. Now I'm worth a little over 5 million dollars and climbing. I run one of the most successful Ostrich ranches in the state.
The worldwide market for Ostrich hides, feathers and meat is exploding. Gram per gram ostrich meat is higher in protein and lower in fat than beef or chicken. Compared to cattle, the gestation time is far shorter.
I did have a few problems getting started and learning the business, but I've hired and fired enough experts until I know the business quite well now.
One of the first things I did when I became financially secure enough to start hiring people, was to hire and train my best friend. Dave Rhinehart. Dave and I went all the way through school together, finally splitting up when I went to college and he went to Afghanistan. Dave and I were so close growing up that a lot of people thought we were brothers.
After returning from honorably serving our country, things weren't going so well for Dave, so I hired him as any friend would. Over the next few years Dave became my right hand man, and we had always been friends. Dave made a great living working with me, and I thought that everyone on the ranch was happy. As a matter of fact I'm sure we were until she came.
Going to school in the Midwest just naturally gives one an appreciation for the finer things in life, like muscle cars in general and Mustangs in particular. I was at the SEMA show in Vegas 6 years ago in late 2004. I was absolutely gob smacked by the 2005 Mustangs they were showing then. I just had to have one. The ranch was doing well enough that I could pretty much have any car I wanted, but that Muscle car thing is hard to get rid of. It's especially hard, when it's been gestating since birth. I was looking down at the sticker in the window to get an idea about pricing and options, when something else came into my field of view.
"Are you looking at the car, or my boobs," giggled a really sexy voice.
I looked up at Jenna and we've been together ever since. We have our differences, but we've compromised and meshed our lifestyles, to create a really great marriage or so I thought. It turns out though that we do after all have something in common. We both want my fucking money but she doesn't want to share it with me any more.
Since then a few years have passed and though we haven't been blessed, I thought, with children, we have more than enough creature comforts to make up it. Jenna has nearly everything she has ever asked for that can be bought and paid for. And I now have quite a few Mustangs and a couple of other cars as well. As a matter of fact it's my obsession with my cars that may have saved my life.
I usually pick one of my Mustangs, drive it for a few weeks and keep the others in storage under their covers until I want them. I had been driving my 08 Roush Black Jack Special Edition, and I was thinking I wanted to play with my Saleen for a while. So I went into the Garage I'd built to house all of my cars. I was looking under car covers and heard someone else come into my garage. This garage had been built specifically for my cars, so though the door was never locked, it would be strange for anyone else to be in here. Then I heard voices. It sounded like Jenna and Dave. I listened in to see what they were talking about.
My suspicion was that they had ducked in here to plan something for my birthday in a few weeks. They were always trying to do spectacular things to celebrate my birthday each year, so I wondered what they had in mind.
When I didn't hear anything I peeked around the corner and saw them engaged in a rather vigorous lip lock. Jenna finally pushed Dave off and asked him if everything was ready.
"Are you sure we really need to do this?" asked my lifelong best friend. I've got plenty of money saved up, you know."
"What the fuck are you talking about? What have you got 40 or 50 measly thousand dollars?" snapped Jenna. "Baby you have to look at the big picture, what you have is chicken feed, and I'm not a hen. We need more money than he would ever give us. Don't you want us to be together?"
"Why can't we just tell him about us and move on?" asked Dave again.
"Because you don't know him like I do Dave. He'd never let us be together. He'd use all of that money that should be ours to hunt us down and destroy us. I don't like the idea either. You know me, I don't even like to kill ants, but he just has to go."
I couldn't believe it, my wife and my best friend were fucking each other and they were talking about killing me. Dave seemed to be reluctant, but Jenna was the one pushing it. I continued to listen while they made their plans.
Finally Dave said that he'd tell me about some phase of their plan, and they could start today so it would be over soon. Jenna seemed to be really happy about it, but Dave just looked at the ground.
After Dave left the garage, Jenna pulled out her cell phone and called someone. Apparently she couldn't get through and had to leave him a message. She left the garage in a huff.
Two hours later Dave came up to the house to see me. He said he had something to show me so we should take the four wheelers.
"Sure Dave, let me go get a jacket just in case," I said. It was a warm day but I wanted the jacket to cover what I really wanted; my HK 9mm, in a paddle holster. Dave was only wearing a t-shirt, so he probably didn't have any weapons on him. On the other hand while I was in college learning how to make and keep money, Dave was learning how to hurt and kill people. I wanted to even the odds.
Dave wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but up close he could probably kill me pretty easily. I however had no intentions of letting it get that close. At the first sign of trouble, I'd shoot my best friend, with no qualms about it.
I'd been busy over the past two hours though. I'd called another childhood friend and gotten taps put on all of the phones in the house and on Jenna's cell phone. I also had an "exterminator" coming out later that day to put cameras in every room in the house and all of the outbuildings while they looked for non-existing infestations.
Thank god for pre-nups I thought; then again maybe not. Maybe the fact that Jenna knew she wouldn't get shit in the event of a divorce was the reason she wanted me dead instead of just gone.
I rode behind Dave for a good 15 minutes before we came to it. One of our birds was lying still on the ground. It was dead from the looks of it. As I got closer to it I was shocked. There were a couple of our workers beside the body of the animal, and they looked up as we approached.
"What did this?" I asked. We'd never had a problem like this before. Maybe a couple of birds got loose or got sick, we'd even had one, get his neck tangled up in the fence and choke himself to death, but this was different. This one had been torn up. It was almost shredded and it looked like something had eaten part of it.
"Mountain lion, probably," said Dave.
"We've never seen anything like that around here," said Ernesto, one of our older workers.
"Well, we'll have to track it down and shoot it," I said.
"Won't work," said Dave, "We won't ever find it. They're too good at hiding and camouflaging themselves. Plus they can sense us coming from miles away. They're also smart enough to hide from men. Cougars almost never attack humans. But it'll sit back and pick off the herd one by one and turn this place into its own private feeding ground,"
"Okay Mr. Expert," I said, "What do you suggest?"
Dave put his head down as if he was thinking. Then he looked up and said," Pits would probably be the best bet. We put some kind of small animal in them as bait and have relatively long sharp spikes at the bottom. Once it jumps or falls in, the spikes and the distance back out either trap, or kill it. More than one, in different areas would enhance our chances of catching it."
"Do it," I said. To tell the truth, my head was still reeling from finding out that Jenna was cheating on me, and that she was cheating on me with Dave. I don't know which one hurt the most.
I drove off on my four wheeler,leaving Dave there. I went back to the house and got into My Saleen and headed for town. While I was there I wandered around the small town and looked into windows. I went and saw a movie at the theater, "The warrior's way," It was about a killer who tries to reform and live a quiet life. In the end he got drawn back into what he did. I wasn't a killer. I was a fucking Ostrich Farmer. But even in college, in business, what I was good at was solving problems. I had a problem, so it was time I solved it.
Both my loving wife and my best friend had to go. When I finally got home, Jenna was distraught with fake worry.
"I didn't know where you went," she cried. This bitch truly deserved the best actress award. "You didn't take your cell phone. How many times have I told you to always take your phone with you?"
I walked right by her as if she wasn't even standing there. I went up the stairs and took a shower. When I got out of the shower, I went to one of our guest rooms to sleep.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I think I'm coming down with something," I lied. "I don't want to risk giving it to you."
"I'll risk it," she said dramatically.
"I won't," I replied.
She left and went back to our room. She seemed to be really upset. But her level of distress couldn't come anywhere close to mine. I just couldn't figure her out. I gave her anything and everything that she asked for. All the way up until I found out she wanted me dead, we had what I thought was a great sex life. I was attentive to her, Shit I was too good to her. What more could she have wanted?
The next morning came and Dave was surprised when I told him that I'd have to pass on our daily run. He and I often ran around the property to look at things and to stay in shape. I always enjoyed our conversations during the runs. We talked about things we'd done when we were younger and things we'd like to do in the future. I was still having trouble believing he'd betray me the way he was going to.
At just after 9 a.m. long before Jenna was awake the "Exterminators," arrived. Before Jenna came downstairs they'd done their work and left. All of the house phones and Jenna's cell phones were now bugged. There were tiny cameras all over the house and grounds. Jenna couldn't fart without me knowing how it sounded and what it smelled like.
I got on an ATV and took a trip around the property, I checked with my farm hands on the state of the birds and their food. The funny thing was that if there was a predator around the birds should have sensed it and changed their behavior. They hadn't which led me to believe that something was going on.
Dave had hired some guys with a backhoe to dig the pits and they were nearly done with the fourth of the large excavations. What I didn't know at the time was that they weren't really intended for a mountain lion. They were meant for me. Love really was the pits.
To avoid Jenna I decided to spend another day in town. This time I drove the Blackjack. My Blackjack is a limited edition high performance Roush Mustang. As I parked it in the lot in the town square, I just beat a woman in a cream BMW to the spot. I looked at her face, she was pissed about losing the spot but she still managed to keep her face composed. I blew my horn at her and waved and then backed out of the spot, letting her have it.
I found another parking spot a little farther away from where I wanted to park, but since I didn't have anything to do anyway, it really didn't matter.
While I was sitting in the car I checked the phone taps. Jenna hadn't called anyone that day. Then I checked the voice recorders around the house. They were voice activated and only recorded when they picked up voices. For a while I was going nuts. I couldn't imagine how mundane some of the things that people talk about are.
Apparently my maid is a closet product tester. She had an entire conversation with herself about how scrubbing bubbles bathroom cleaner is much better than Ajax even though they cost almost the same amount. I need to give that woman a raise and find someone for her to talk to.
Finally I picked up a conversation between Jenna and Dave.
"What do you mean he didn't go out running with you this morning?" asked Jenna.
He said he had something else to do," said Dave. "Maybe he's sick or something. You said he didn't want to sleep with you last night. Shit even if I was dead I'd want you next to me."
"Well don't get your hopes up," said Jenna coldly. "Until he is dead, you won't be next to me either."
"This really isn't that easy to do," snapped Dave. "He's been my best friend for most of my life. I don't understand why we can't just sit down and have a talk with him and tell him how we feel. I know him, he'd be pissed and hurt, but he wouldn't stand in our way. This just isn't right. When I first got back from the service and no one would
give me a shot, he took me in and taught me the business. He just doesn't deserve this."
"Boo fucking Hoo," said Jenna. "It actually is that easy. You just need to make up your mind what you want. All you have to do is go out running with him, like you do every God damned morning anyway. You run by one of those stupid pits, and accidentally bump him into it. Then you help me get over the tragic death of my husband and we live happily ever after." she stopped talking for a moment.
"Maybe I was wrong about you," she said. "Maybe you're not the guy I thought you were. You told me that over there in Afghanistan you killed people all of the time for nothing other than because you were ordered to. I guess I thought that the idea of you and I settling down and being happy together was a much better reason. Maybe, you really
don't want to be with me after all."
That was all that I could stand listening to. I got my iPhone out of my pocket and called my lawyer. Since I was in town, it just made things easier. He told me that I didn't need an appointment, to just come on over.
Jerry Cantrell had been my lawyer since I first started the ranch. I'd known him longer than I'd known Jenna. Fortunately he'd never trusted her. He'd been the one to suggest and draw up the pre-nup.
"Well Jerry, you were right," I said sadly.
"Be more specific, I'm right about almost everything," he smiled.
"Jenna," I said, as if her name alone was enough. His eyes got bigger and so did his smile.
"She wants a divorce doesn't she?" he said. "I knew she wouldn't last too long. I could tell by looking at her. She's just not a real woman. She looks too much like a fucking porn star. Don't worry about it, just throw her ass out. The pre-nup is iron clad. If you divorce her for any reason, any reason. She only gets five grand and the clothes on her back. Boo Ya!" Jerry pumped his fist like he'd just scored a touchdown.
"Shit, I should have put a clause in there that says that in the event of a divorce I get twenty percent of the marital assets. I'd be fucking rich, you're raking in cash over there," he said. His happiness faded when he saw the look on my face. "Sorry man, I sometimes forget that there are real emotions attached to these things sometimes. I guess I've come to expect that everyone sees these things the way I do. It's so easy to forget that divorces usually come from someone getting hurt."
"It's worse than that, Jerry," I said. "Listen to this." I pulled out my phone and played him a copy of the recordings. I didn't know how to cut through to specific sections so he had to listen to my maid proclaiming her everlasting love for scrubbing bubbles too.
"Jeezus, your maid really loves her job," he said. "Tony, don't tell me you're screwing the help. Is that what this is all about? How many times has she caught you?"
"Jerry, just listen," I said exasperatedly.