Several weeks ago I read a story about cheating called "Forsaking All Others". It was one of the first stories I read that was as believable as it was gut wrenching. We didn't have a wimpy cuckold with a wimpy dick who loves to stand around and watch his wife fuck because that is all she lets him do. That shit pukes me out. I spent many nights searching the archives of SOL and found some authors that could write a cheating story that had a satisfying conclusion. Several authors with an ability to produce such a story include Al Steiner, Drifter, KK, Curious2c, Charlie Ace and Big-R. A little sorting may be necessary because there are a few cuckold/wimp/watcher stories in their collective works, but the good stories are good.
Well, as a writing exercise, a lark, I set out to write my own cheating story. If you are a writer you know that a work can take a life all its own. That is true of all of my stories. Well, I wrote Mel into my storyline, I fell in love with her, I could not have her flat out cheat on her husband and my story was just not going in that direction. So, we have a husband that is out to avenge a rape and not a cheating wife. It just didn't work this time. I will try to create a real bitch next time and maybe I can put together a good cheating wife story.
This is written in my own distinctive style that is rather unique. It is meant to sound like an oral narrative, something that if you it read aloud would sound like someone telling a story. One reader took exception to this style and wanted dialog. Actually he said that I needed to learn how to write dialog (pissed me off is what it did). That is not my style.
My stories can be rather long. This is just a short story designed to entertain you before I get back to the second part of "The Touch". I hope you enjoy.
My world was rocked by a couple of punk-ass frat-rats. At the time it was not a good thing to rock my world. In order to tell you my story I will need to give you a little background. It all starts in a little backwater town in Iowa we will for the sake of the story call it Fairland (as opposed to Bumfuck). My father and mother were both chiropractors and made a decent living popping backs. I graduated from Fairland High School in 1964. I did well on my college admission tests and attended college at the University of Iowa in Iowa City that fall. I was a bit jerk-off and it did not take me long to realize that the life in a dorm was somewhat confining. Through some contacts of my dad and grandfather, I was able to join a hell raising fraternity. I had my own car that had been earned working for a carpenter on weekends and during the summer. I had my own room and we had booze coming out of the woodwork. Friday and Saturday nights were stellar at times. I had to go home at least once a month, but as long as I kept my grades above a 2.0 my parents would not give me hell. I just barely maintained a 2.4 GPA for the first two years.
I was a virgin when I entered college. I really lived a pretty restrictive life at home and most of the girls that I dated were "good girls". That changed at my first frat party. As a lowly pledge I was given one of the brother's girlfriends to watch over while he partied. I sat on a sofa in the basement bar and she sat on my lap. She was three sheets to the wind but was still coherent, just barely. I was kind of out of it also, but all of a sudden I felt a breeze on my dick. I looked down and realized that Trudy had just whipped out my cock. She pulled her skirt up somewhat, straddled my lap and guided my erection to a very soggy pussy. At the time I had no clue but today I know that she had been fucked once or twice earlier.
It really didn't matter because for the first time in my life, I experienced the sensation of being buried in a wet hot pussy. Trudy was moaning and groaning and I was sure that I was going to be caught and drummed out of the brotherhood. However, everyone was so ripped that no one noticed or cared. I shot off fairly quickly, but Trudy did manage to give off a little shudder and a groan. When she was finished she was barely awake. I pulled the gusset of her soaked panties back over her pussy and stuck my cock back in my pants. No one was more the wiser.
I was very proud of myself until the next morning when I discovered that my dick was bleeding from a lesion on the right side. The best way to describe it was that it looked like a bad rug burn. I put two and two together and figured out what had actually happened. Trudy did not take her panties off; she just pulled them to the side. I didn't realize that with every stroke up or down she was rubbing off a bit of my dick. I did not dare to have an erection for about two weeks. Every time I sprouted wood I ended up in pain. That was a lesson well learned, but I did lose my cherry.
Today they talk about the date rape drugs and they are certainly out there. Back in my day there was Chloral Hydrate, Thorazine as well as other tranquillizers and hypnotics, but nonetheless alcohol is by far the most widely used if not most efficient (considering cost, availability, legality and such) date rape drug in existence. As with Trudy the most effective use of alcohol was to lower if not remove inhibitions so that rape was not even a factor.
With great remorse I have to admit that I took advantage of more than one female who was nearly passed out from too much drink as well as those who dropped their guard because of one drink too many. I don't recall ever fucking a girl that was totally passed out. I never got to be first in those early days and it was pretty sloppy, but it beat the hell out of masturbation. We were so fucking young and so fucking stupid. We took the female's presence in our frat house as implied consent to have intercourse. There were a few dogs but most of the ones that we bagged were foxes. The legal drinking in Iowa was not raised to 21 until 1986.
I spent two years really spinning my wheels. I did manage to get a general education and keep my average grade above a C. I did get a few D's but my A's and B's helped me out. In my sophomore year, I met a really nice cheerleader type female. Jane Cooper was a freshman, who grew up less than 30 miles from my hometown. She had brown hair and was of medium height. She was cute but not quite beautiful. She had a wide slightly cockeyed grin that took up most of her face and lit up the room. She was the baby of the family with an older brother (a cop) and an older sister (a nurse).
We got pretty serious and dated for the first semester and a half. I would take her out to a movie or a dance. The two of us attended a few formal dinner parties at the frat house that were respectable, but I never invited or took Janey to any of the blowouts that we had. I never got past a little feel of the pussy and some heavy petting. No big deal. I usually got back to the frat house in time to get in a little action in before hitting the sack. Somehow one of her friends or acquaintances caught me partying after a date and the word got back. Janey was ready to break up. I did a lot of fast-talking because I really liked her and was getting serious about her. She insisted that she accompany me to these parties.
It was definitely an ultimatum so I conceded and took her with me to the frat parties. The first two parties worked out ok because I took care that we watched the amount of beer that we drank and I stuck close. On the third party the inevitable happened. Janey and I both had way too much to drink and she got separated from me. When I finally realized that she was gone, I went looking. I finally found her in one of the upstairs bedrooms with a group of guys around her lined up taking their turns. I pulled the fucking brother off of her and started throwing punches. They restrained me and apologized and all backed out of the room. When all was said and done a very drunk Janey lay there with her legs spread wide and a river of semen flowing out of her bloody pussy. I was crushed. I took some tissues, cleaned her up somewhat and walked her to her dorm. She was still quite intoxicated. Her roommate met me and asked what had happened and I explained that Janey had too much to drink and let some men take advantage of her. I said that I had not even touched her. She was horrified because she knew Janey was a virgin. She blamed me for not protecting Janey and really took it out on me.
I went back to the house in tears feeling that I had really let my girlfriend down. When I got back several of the men who had been with her apologized and said that they thought she wanted it. They explained that none of them could have known that she was a virgin. I went to bed a broken man. The next day, a Saturday, I went over to Janey's dorm. She came down to talk with me but insisted that her roommate accompany her. That did not sound good. The three of us went over to a corner of the commons area and sat down. I explained just how sorry I was that she was taken advantage of. I told her that she got away from me and I was somewhat befuddled (drunk) at the time. I thought maybe she had gone to the bathroom. Janey said that last night was the worst nightmare of her life. She asked them to stop and they wouldn't. She felt that I had let her down and did not want to see me again. I begged her to reconsider but she had made up her mind. I heard she moved home the next weekend and never returned to school.
This was the worst day of my life. I was very hurt and demoralized because I felt responsible for Janey's hurt. It still hurts to picture the image of the 18-year-old innocent in ruins on that bed. I felt so bitter and felt like such a wimp. A meeting of the fraternity was held where this incident was discussed and some minor disciplinary action was taken against the instigators. However, most were upperclassmen and the punishment was nothing more than a reprimand. Big fucking deal. I was humiliated, pissed off and hurt. I did the rest of my time at the house as a penance and did not participate in the parties or anything else through the end of the school year.
It was not an understatement to say that I remained despondent. I informed my parents that I had no intention of going back to school. I hadn't declared a major and still didn't even know what I wanted to do. What the hell was I doing in school? I was draft age and I was so fucked up I decided to go into the armed forces. I signed up for four years in the Army so I could get into Special Forces. When the recruiter asked me why the hell I wanted to do that, I told him I wanted him to turn me into one badass sonofabitch. I was 6'3" and 210 lbs. He looked me up and down and said he thought he could do just that. There were no hard-core promises because I would have to pass certain entrance tests that were written and physical. I did not think I would have a problem. I didn't.
I went to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri for Basic Training. I then was shipped to Fort Bragg where I went through level-one training. I was pulled aside and was informed that because of my high ratings on the aptitude testing and my college education I was being selected to go to Special Forces Medical School for level-two training. My MOS (military occupational specialty) would be 91B, Special Forces Medic. Now you must realize that they were not talking about medical school, but a medic school that would teach me how to practice limited medicine and surgery in the field. Well I was just starting to get some self respect back and I thought what the hell. No one thought to tell me at the first meeting that the school required well over a year of training.
Fort Bragg wasn't the worst place in the world. It definitely was a change of scenery for this midwestern hayseed. By the time I completed level two training I was feeling much better about myself. I didn't really try to date any of the locals, although some of my buddies did. Two came real close to being court marshaled when a couple of dads found out the soldiers were plugging their underage daughters. I paid for prostitutes about once a month and that was enough to take the edge off. I stayed with the program because the pressures were weren't there to maintain my grades and I did enjoy the classes. By beginning of 1968 I was ready to serve my country as a buck sergeant Green Beret.
I had a month of leave at home before being sent over the puddle to my tropical destination. I renewed the acquaintance of one of my high school classmates and got some steady pussy for three weeks. It was nothing serious but it certainly was a great way to blow off steam.
I almost never spoke of my Vietnam service, not because of the secrecy surrounding my assignments but because I really wanted to put it behind me. I discovered that the majority of the soldiers that came back did not talk about their Vietnam service because of the trauma, pain or because it was just not a popular topic. I only dug out my war stories for the purposes of this story. It will help you to know just what kind of character those two college fuck-heads tripped over.
I was assigned to the Fifth Special Operations Group. The Army assigned me to a base camp near the Cambodian border that supported the six-man teams. We did not have a medical doctor, but we had three medics. When the fourth medic was assigned to our group we started stepping all over each other and I asked to go out on a team. Our CO was a real hard ass, but he was a pretty straight shooter. Many of the engineers and medics wanted to see action. Because we were well covered for medics I was allowed to fill in for several of the team members that were killed or incapacitated. I was a fucking adrenalin junkie. I also got to perform a lot of field surgery out in the toolies. As the expression goes, we were, young, dumb and full of cum. When my first tour was up I asked for an extension of my tour on the condition that I permanently be assigned to an op team. I got my wish.
Our team missions required penetration into Cambodia and included three goals: first was to provided reconnaissance on enemy troop movements and installations, second was to call in air strikes and third was to rescue downed US personnel. Our mission in Cambodia was clandestine because of treaties and such we were not supposed to be there; consequently, there were a lot of bullshit rules that restricted what we could do, bullshit rules that were broken all the time. We often wore non-uniform uniforms, had no dog tags, and carried no identifying information. Our clothes had no labels.
I don't know if I secretly held a death wish but I can tell you that the many brushes that I had with death were indeed exhilarating. When a buddy died it was a very fucking deep low. Being in the field was like experiencing a bi-polar disorder. I could not stay depressed very long because my senses were impaired when I was down. Impaired senses were not a good thing in the field. The VC hunted our teams with a passion. They had dogs and platoons that were dedicated to finding, torturing and killing us.
Nineteen sixty-nine was eventful. On my second tour, our camp was assaulted three times to no avail. Being overrun was a constant threat. I enjoyed the team that I was assigned to. My team leader was a seasoned E-6 who was in the midst of his third tour. He had returned from a training command where he did a year in the states so that he could come back here. Our specialty was rescue. We were the ones called when a team got in trouble. We often flew on Green Hornet 3, the designation for one of the backup helicopters in a rescue attempt. It there were difficulty with an extraction, we went in and were successful many times.
In my position at the time I killed many a VC up close and personal. We often went into villages and shot men that we thought were helping the enemy. I never shot an unarmed man, but our counterparts did. I refused to have any thing to do with raping or killing the female civilians. If a female was armed, I didn't think twice. Our group had several occasions to round up females and most of our team participated in rapes. I never did. It wasn't that I was all that pious; it had more to do with the fact that I was still haunted by Janey's rape.
I did come across two enemy soldiers starting the mutilation one of our team members. I gut shot them both, went over to them, opened their bellies cut out their small intestines so that there would be no rescue for them, quickly tied off the major bleeders with mini-mosquitoes so theirs would be a slow death, left the gaping wounds open and hung them on tree limbs to die. I was able to patch up my fellow soldier and get him back to an LZ. I received my second silver star for that.
I returned from Vietnam in March of 1970. I served the remainder of my enlistment at Fort Hood as a medical instructor at the school. Our little Iowa town was still patriotic and I was welcomed back in a ceremony held by our American Legion Auxiliary. My folks were very proud. I had saved a lot of my pay and decided to invest it. I went back to Iowa City to look for a job with the intention of enrolling in school in the fall. I found a small studio apartment and decided to go looking for a job. The night I was hired to be a stock clerk in one of the grocery stores, I went out to a dance place. I was still sporting a military haircut and a couple of college boys came up to me with the intention of picking a fight. They asked me if I was in the military I told them I had been. When they found out I was a former Green Beret, they started calling me a baby killer. I asked them to leave me alone, really I did. They didn't seem to be listening so when I told them to fuck off, one took a swing at me. I buried the heel of my foot in the middle of his kneecap. You could hear the ligaments and tendons of his knee thigh and calf snap and pop as he toppled back. The second fucker wasn't any smarter so he took a swing. This time he left his crotch area unprotected so I kicked the hell out of his balls. The bouncers came over to subdue me but it was not really cool. When they went to touch me, I punched both fuckers out.
When we went to court there were nine witnesses that testified that I had been assaulted first by the two patrons and then by the bouncers. I was absolved of any criminal charges. In the criminal case, the judge ruled that since I had identified myself as a Green Beret, they placed themselves in grave danger when they commenced their assault. My lawyer instigated a civil suit against the bar that was just horrendous. He was asking for damages that exceeded $200,000. The owner of the bar, Harry Glasskill, asked to speak to me alone. He said that he would never be able to come up with the kind of money we were talking about. If I were to sustain my suit I would end up with very little because his personal assets did not come close to half of what we were asking for. He countered with the offer of a $26,000 dollar a year job as a bouncer/partner. I would share equally in the profits after his $40,000 salary and benefits were taken out.
It was an offer that was too hard to turn down. I became half owner of the "Escapade" a bar and dance hall that was located very close to campus and catered to the college students. I had to turn down the grocery store job, which paid four dollars an hour. There was no performance clause in my partnership contract, so I didn't even have to show up to collect my salary. I did report for work however and enjoyed my job.
My new partner framed and hung five disclaimers that stated that a former Green Beret guarded this facility and anyone interested in starting a fight was well advised to go elsewhere. There were only a few times when I had to throw assholes out. The unfortunate thing about the disclaimers was that they drew out a few assholes who thought they were tougher than me and wanted to find out how tough I was. All in all, Harry benefited from his association with me. It did not cost him much. I replaced two of his bouncers so he was paying one salary instead of two. His business increased as the safety of the patrons increased.
Harry and I became close friends. He had done a stint in the Navy and so we often had a sham rivalry going on. The Army Navy games were always a big deal at Escapade. Harry was later to confide that the lawsuit was the best thing that ever happened to him. My presence gave him a chance to leave once in a while knowing that a stockholder was in charge. Harry was a thirty something divorcee who had his three bedroom home taken in the divorce. He leased the whole building with a purchase option. He had an apartment in the back half of the second floor. He offered me the front half of the second story. There were two entries with stair to the second level. One was in the front and one in the back that gave access to the hallway, which ran the length of the hall. I had carpentry experience so it was no big deal fixing up a small one-bedroom apartment in the front. We each had a little over three thousand square feet. The only problem was the noise. It wasn't too bad but it was hard at times when I had to study and the band was in the house.
During the second semester, I had so much pussy I didn't know what to do with it all. Quite a few females went to the bars to get picked up. By closing there would be a few that had not found a hook-up. I was often available. I continued to exercise on a daily basis; I wore tight t-shirts and showed off a very enviable torso. I would ask the target of the evening if she wanted to stay over. Rarely did I hear a negative. Many times I had to remove females that were dead drunk. Sometimes I would just stick them in one of my spare bedrooms. I never ever took advantage of a comatose female. There were several who were three sheets to the wind who begged for a dick and in my books that was a horse of a different color.
Harry and I each had our own pickup that was leased by the bar. Each had the logo from our bar on them. I transported the women in my pickup. One night I took a girl home to her parents quite unconscious and the father intimated that I might have taken advantage of her. I told him in front of his wife that I did not know if she had been fucked, I hadn't checked. I wondered out loud if he thought I was so fucking stupid that I would bother to bring her home after I raped her? He apologized and was later to become on of my best clients.
In my senior year a little blonde pixie walked into my life. Melody was never to reach five feet tall. She was 4'11" with a slender, but attractive figure. While her body was great, her face was fantastic. She had high cheekbones a tiny upturned nose and lips that were to die for. Her completion was pristine and was like fine porcelain. When I first saw her it was like someone had just hit me in the stomach. I was in love. She had a smile that lit up her face. Her giggle reminded me of the babbling of a brook, a copasetic gurgle. She came into the bar with a friend. She was so shy it was almost embarrassing to me. I sat with them most of the first night they were there.
I asked her for a date on Monday. She though that Monday was kind of novel I explained that my workweek started on Tuesday or Wednesday and went through Saturday. I could see that this was hard for her; her bashfulness was endearing. With a great deal of deliberation, she agreed. I picked her up at the dorm and walked to a pizza place just two blocks from the bar, four blocks from campus. This was Melody's third year in college she had experienced just a handful of dates in the three years because so many of the men made her feel uncomfortable. When I asked her why she agreed to go out with me she said there was something about me that seemed right. I really went out on a limb and told her that I thought she felt comfortable with me because she knew I loved her and that I was going to be the man she would marry. The look on her face was priceless. Huge fucking tears welled up in her eyes but never overflowed. I almost cheered when eventually she told me that she thought I was right. She leaned over and hugged me and gave me a peck on the lips.
She said that I probably told that to all of my girlfriends. I agreed with her and she got a funny look on her face. I hesitated and told her that she was the second girlfriend that I had ever had and that I lost the first one about five years ago.
Melody got out of the booth and came over to my side and sat next to me. She took my face in her hands and gently but slowly pulled me to her lips for the deepest kiss I had ever experienced. When we disengaged she told me that I needed to clear up some of the rumors that she had heard about me. She told me that I was known on campus as quite the stud. I told her that in my humble opinion that was true. I had bedded many women in the last year or two, but never asked one to stay for a repeat performance. I never told one of them I loved them nor did I lead them on. I had been looking for the right one for years right up to tonight. My search was complete. From this moment on I would be monogamous. That was the correct answer; I got another one of those kisses.
We talked for hours until they kicked us out of the place. I walked her home; it was indeed love at first sight. Almost every night that I had to work Melody would join me in the upstairs apartment for an early dinner. We would go downstairs to the bar and we both stayed at the table near the door, the one I used as my desk. Sometimes her girlfriend, Carrie would join us. I carded quite a few kids as they tried to come in and I tended bar when things got hot and heavy. Mel took over bartending relief at times, but was not a regular.
On one of our first dates, Mel explained that she had been on a few dates but because of her shyness never went all the way. One night about a year ago a freshman took her out to a bar, got her good and drunk and had sex with her. It was not consensual and she was scared out of her gourd; her body shut down and she did not enjoy the sex one bit. The penetration was painful and she couldn't wait until he was finished with her. At first, she didn't think she would be able to have sex with another man. She said that my love for her was evident and it was the caring gentleness that captured her heart and her body just came along for the ride.
I would take Mel out on dates on Mondays or Tuesdays and we really got to know each other. We didn't jump right in the sack, but she was staying with me and we were sleeping together at the end of three weeks. Initially, Melody was a little inept in the sex department but satisfied me completely in the romance department. I taught her how to give a really good blowjobs and how to take a pussy licking and keep on ticking. At the end of two months, Melody had graduated to the master's level in the lovemaking department. To say we got very comfortable with each other was an understatement.
For those last two years, I had been studying business. My BA was in business. I had qualified and passed the exams for CPA. Outside of corporate America and the universities, the MBA was an unknown quantity. Because I shared a business that was supporting me well and because I had two more years on the GI bill, I decided to go for the MBA. The summer before I entered graduate school Mel and I got married. She had long flowing hair and three weeks before the wedding she asked me if she could have it cut. I really liked her long hair, I think most guys are like that, however, I told her that I truly felt that she should do her hair the way that she wanted. She should not have to ask me.
When she came back from her hair appointment, I was watching something on TV. She stood in front of me and asked me what I thought. I slowly looked up. She had chopped her hair off. She was wearing a very tight cut bob. The shock couldn't have been more evident. My mouth was open, but my vocal cords weren't working. I couldn't find the words. Melody burst into tears and ran to our bedroom. I followed her in and told her that she just surprised me. I really did like it. She told me I was just saying that. I took her hand, put it on my hard-on and told her I did not make that up. She looked at me questioningly. I told her that it was something I did not want to 'fess up to. I explained that she looked just like a thirteen year old standing there and I could think of nothing more than taking her there on the floor. Melody took me by the hand into the living room, shut off the TV, stripped, lay down on the floor, spread her legs wide and told me to bring it on. Needless to say the rest of the day was shot. That evening she had me shave her pubis.
Our wedding was a storybook ceremony. Carrie was the Maid of Honor and Harry was the Best Man. Everything went well. All four of our parents and our siblings were alive and well. Seven of eight grandparents were in attendance. I won't go into to all the details, but it was a very special moment for both of us. We had a weeklong honeymoon in New Orleans. It was I hoot. I never got carded after I came back from Vietnam. I had been able to maintain my weight at 230# and I had kept all of the fat off. I used the health facilities at the University. No one would question my majority. Every place that we went for drinks carded Melody. She was embarrassed all the time.
When we returned we moved into a new three-bedroom rancher in a new subdivision of Iowa City. I had squirreled away most of my salary and half of one year's profits. I could have paid for the whole thing, but for credit purposes, tax purposes and general cash flow, I put half down and financed the balance over ten years, leaving payments of under $150 a month. I was one happy camper. Carrie took our front apartment and paid us $50 a month. She and Harry started dating on and off, but I don't know how serious they were. It was more like a convenience.
In the first semester I noticed a pair of young men who hung around the bar. Often on weekends they would often pick up one or two ladies and leave. I began noticing that they usually chose women who were fairly well plastered. Many times they would buy a lot of drinks to increase the intoxication of their dates. There was never any real commotion so I kind of minded my own business. In the second semester, I noticed that the weasel-looking dude was pouring something in the drinks belonging to two coeds. I went over and took the bottle out of his hands I smelled it and took a very tentative taste. It was grain alcohol. He was pouring it in their beers to make them drunk. I kicked both son of bitches out of the bar and told them not to come back.
I was later to find out that the two boys were freshmen recruiters for one of the fraternities. Their house gave them the job of bringing back females for entertainment, which when translated meant gangbangs and in many cases gang rapes. I had no idea how they had managed to escape prosecution. The women were often so inebriated or comatose that informed consent could not be given. In my books, as well as the state's, it was out and out rape. I hoped that I had seen the last of Weasel and his buddy. Didn't happen.
One Thursday night just after spring break, I got back to the bar after spending some time at the library. It was after nine. Harry was out of town that night and we had a backup bartender. The cocktail waitress was one of our fill-ins and was a little ditzy. I noticed that there were two unfinished drinks at my table and the girls' purses were still in the corner where Carrie and Melody kept them. I asked Mike, the bartender, what was going on. He said that he didn't know. There were a couple of guys that came in around seven-thirty. They had a little argument with Mel but they went on back to the pool tables and behaved themselves. He described them and I knew we were discussing Weasel and his buddy.
Mike went on to say that Weasel's buddy took a spill in the back and fell down on his ass. He went back there and checked him out; the kid was ok. Then it hit me. I asked him if he remembered whether or not Carrie or Mel had gone back to check on the boy. Mike said they were both there, I asked him if he had noticed where Weasel was at the time. He hadn't. I went back to the booth and looked around. Beneath one of the benches was an unlabeled empty pill bottle. It had a power that suggested crushed pills. You could see the coating on some of the particles. I put a tiny bit to the tip of my tongue and got a bitter taste and a tingling sensation. Holding Mel's beer bottle up to the light I could see little particles swimming on the bottom. I told Mike to leave the table alone and to keep people away from it. I might need to have the police check it out for evidence.
I ran out to my pickup and drove up to my old Fraternity. I was still a member even though I did not live there nor had I been active for many years. I took several of the brothers aside and described Weasel. They gave me the name of the fraternity. They were aware of the practice but did not subscribe to such behavior. They said that after the incident involving Janey, more care was taken to be sure that every coed was consenting in their house. I told them I prayed they were being honest with me about that.
The fraternity president sent three stocky brothers with me. We went over to the fraternity in question. A scrawny underclassman answered the door. I asked him where the girls were and he asked me, "what girls?" Wrong answer! I took him by the neck using one hand and raised his feet three inches off of the floor. I explained that either he tell me where they were or he would be dead in just a few minutes. He literally pissed his pants and then nodded his head. He directed me to the chapter room in the basement and I gave him a substantial neck chop and knocked his ass out.
I flew down the stairs and tore through the doors to the chapter room; on the floor were the two women. Carrie was obviously out of it. She was on her back in the missionary with a dude between her legs pumping away, her eyes were glazed over and she was moaning. It wasn't the sound of passion. Another man was behind Melody who was in the doggy position; he was thrusting away. She had her head and shoulders down on the floor and it looked like she was pushing back. They both had semen streaming down from their openings. This wasn't a frat fuck this was a revenge fuck but the brothers were saying fuck you to the wrong guy.
I pulled the first man off of Melody and up to his feet. I slammed him in the solar plexus and he went down puking in a flash. Mel screamed from the surprise of my attack. I pulled the fucker off of Carrie and slammed him in the face; he was down and out. Weasel made the mistake of coming over to do me harm. He had a fucking ceremonial paddle and was going to beat me senseless. What a fucking dork. I wanted to kill him so I pulled my punch and smashed his nose with my hand flat on. I wanted desperately to drive the nasal bones up into his brain, but I couldn't kill him, not yet. I did break his nose and did it well. I am sure that I encroached into the left zygoma and gave him a blowout fracture. I spotted Weasel's buddy and went over and broke his arm. One of the other brother's came in with a bat. Bad idea. I pulled my military issue 45 out of my jeans and leveled it at his face. He chose to stop.
I told them to get the chapter President downstairs now. It appears that the fucker who was puking was my man. I told them to get two blanket and a few wet towels. I suggested that things were stable right now and they should not try to fuck with me or call the police until we worked things out. Since I had the 45, no one really challenged me. The brothers from my fraternity were incredulous. They could not believe what I had accomplished. One of the brothers was a Jarhead and he asked me about my military experience. I told him we would talk later.
The girls were covered and the President was done puking. I told him what was going down. As far as I was concerned this was a revenge fuck. Weasel went to some efforts to get back at me and he did it in a very cowardly way. I asked the President if he understood that they were fucking my wife. I was the Green Beret, the one-man bouncer at the Escapade. Were they all fucking idiots? I had killed over a hundred men. I was so close to taking out every member of this fraternity that they should all wet their pants. I had enough evidence back at the bar to lock up all the brothers for a long time. The Dean of students would probably suspend the fraternity if not cancel its charter on the campus. The alternative was to cover up the incident and swear every single member to secrecy. Weasel and his buddy had to be drummed out of the fraternity for any reason that they wanted. If there were any peep, the Dean would be the first to know what went on tonight.
I asked the Marine to take Carrie and I carried Mel. The girls were just beside themselves. The other two guys went back to their house. Jarhead and I took them to the pick-up and then to our house. I felt so fucking helpless. My wife was crushed. We took both women to the master bedroom. I stripped down to my underwear and pulled Melody into the shower with me. I used some liquid ivory dish soap and washed her from head to toe. I was careful with her pussy because she was obviously sore. I went over her anus and it seemed intact. I don't think she would have been so tight if someone had ass fucked her. When she was finished I ran a comb through her hair. I put her in my bed under the covers.
I took Carrie and had Dan (Jarhead) help me wash her. I washed out her vagina and when I checked her asshole it was very loose and slippery. Dan heard me cuss and asked what was up. I told him that she had been raped in the ass and after we were finished I would need to check her over. We washed her up and combed out her hair. I took a flashlight and examined her vaginal and anal area. There was certainly some bruising of her vulva and anus with a slight anal tear. I wanted to go over and kill some frat rats. I took my flashlight and with Dan watching examined Melody. She was ok. Her vagina was understandably inflamed and her vulva had some bruising. Her butt-hole looked ok. They both had bruises on their breasts and their necks. Some were hickeys; some were finger marks and a few were bites. I got my 35mm camera out and stuck in a roll of 400 speed B&W film and took shots of the marks. I put fresh bras and panties on the girls. Mel was a little smaller than Carrie so I used one of Mel's sports bras for her. They were still crying buckets and were still somewhat out of it.