Sherri and Gail

by Just Plain Bob

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, Drunk/Drugged, Heterosexual, Cheating, .

Desc: Sex Story: Was she or wasn't she?

I nursed my beer and watched the group sitting on the other side of the room. They were bikers, but they weren't. By that I mean they were all wearing riding leathers and had brain buckets on the floor next to their chairs, but there were no colors on display, no pony tails and beards and what skin I saw was free of tattoos. Three guys and four girls who liked to ride. That meant that at least one of the girls had her own scooter and as I watched the group I tried to figure out which one it was.

The group was the reason I was there. I'd stopped in two weeks ago. It was the first time I had ever been in that particular bar and ten minutes after I sat down I heard the roar outside and when it stopped the group had filed in. They called the waitress and the barmaid by name and that told me that they were regulars in the place. As the helmets came off one of them drew my immediate attention and I thought "No way" as the group settled in at their table and I was able to take a closer look at the person who didn't turn out to be who I thought. Close – damned close – but no cigar. Since that first time I'd come in every day and once or twice a week the group would come in about six in the evening. Sometimes three or four and sometimes all seven, but the one who had caught my attention was always there.

I finished my beer, waved at the barmaid for a fresh one and got up to use the bathroom. When I got back to my bar stool she was sitting on the one next to it. As I sat down she stuck out her right hand and said:

"Sherrie, and you are?"

I took her hand and shook it as I said, "Frank."

"Well Frank, I am a curious girl and I'm the kind of curious girl who always wants to satisfy that curiosity."

"And you are sharing that information with me why?"

"Because you are the object of that curiosity Frank."

"Me? Why? What did I do to invite your curiosity?"

"You are in here every night and you watch the people at our table like a hawk looking for prey. But it isn't the people at my table you are looking at is it Frank. You are watching me and that is what is making me curious. Care to tell me why?"

I looked at her for several seconds and then shrugged. I took my billfold out of my back pocket, took a picture out of it and handed it to her.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Look at it."

She looked at the picture and frowned. "I don't remember this picture being taken and how did you get a picture of me in the first place?"

"Take a closer look at it."

She studied the picture and then said, "This isn't me. I've never owned a pair of earrings like those. Who is this?"

"My wife, or maybe I should say my ex-wife. At least she will be my ex as long as I don't find her."

"I can't get over how much we look alike. We could be twins. Explain to me if you will that statement – the part that she will be your ex as long as you don't find her. That doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense. Did she run away? Are you some kind of monster Frank?"

"I guess you could say she ran off. She was cheating on me and the night I confronted her with it she took off with some biker she met at a party we went to. That was three months ago."

"Haven't heard from her?"

"Got a phone call maybe three weeks later. Wanted to know if she could come home. Told her I wished she would hurry up and get back so I could wrap my hands around her throat and strangle her cheating ass. Haven't heard from her since."

"So why are you spending your time looking at me?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just fascinated with how much you look like her."

"What you are telling me is that you miss her."

"I do."

"But you don't want her back."

"I don't."

"And I'm kind of a surrogate? Some one you can look at and think that she is still around?"

"Could be. Haven't much thought about it."

"You want to come over and join us?"

"No thanks; I'm not really good company these days."

"What you need is cheering up Frank and I think my group can do that for you. You can sit right across the table from me and see me up close. You won't have to stare across the room at me."

"I don't know if up close is something I can handle."

"You can handle it Frank. All you have to do is remember that I'm not really her and you will be able to keep your hands off my throat."

"Yeah; I guess there is that. Maybe next time we are in here, but right now it is time for me to leave."

As I walked to my pick up truck I saw the bikes parked off to the side and I wondered who she rode with and which bike it was. I thought maybe I would start riding mine. I had a 1956 Triumph T-110 that I had rebuilt and that I didn't spend near enough time on.

I was thinking of Sherrie when I fell asleep. Or was it Gail?


The next day after work I went home and got the Triumph out of the garage and rode it over to the bar. It was two days before they showed up again and I was sitting on a stool at the bar when Sherri and her group came in. She saw me and came over. She didn't bother to ask if I would like to join them; she just grabbed my hand and pulled me off the bar stool as she said, "Come on." I had the presence of mind to grab my beer off the bar as she pulled me off my stool and led me over to her friends. She said, "Hey guys, this is Frank" and then she introduced me to the six people who came in with her. It turned out that they were all family. Her brother John and his wife Sue. Her sister Marge and her husband Bill. Her cousin Tom and his fiancée Bea. Then she stunned me by saying:

"Frank here wants me to replace his wife."

Besides stunning me the statement seemed to cause the other six some concern or at least that is what I thought I saw on their faces. Then Sherrie laughed and said:

"Show them the picture Frank."

I dug it out and handed it to her and she handed it to her brother. John looked at it, up at me and then handed it to his wife and then it was passed around the table finally ending up at Marge. Marge took a real long look at it and then asked me how old Gail was. I told her and she asked:

"Did you ever meet her parents?"

"Just her mom. The story that she told me was that her father got her mother pregnant and then split when her mom started making plans to get married."

"Where is she from?"

"Tucson. Why the twenty questions?"

"Just curious. Was she born in Tucson?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact she was."

Marge, John and Sherrie looked at each other and then Sherrie said, "No way."

Marge said, "Think about it. His wife is twenty-five and that would mean she was born in 1980. If she was born in Tucson it would fit."

Again Sherrie said, "No way; no fucking way."

"It fits" John said, "And it would explain the uncanny resemblance."

"What are you people talking about?"

Marge looked at me for a couple of seconds and then said, "Our dad works in construction and 1979 and 1980 he was working on a large project in Tucson. Your Gail could be our step sister. May I borrow this picture?"

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Show it to my dad and ask him if he got a girl pregnant in Tucson."

"You think that is wise?"

"I wouldn't do it if mom was still alive, but we lost her to cancer two years ago. If he did get this Gail's mom pregnant he couldn't marry her because he was already married, but if he did get her pregnant I want to know. If I have a sister out there somewhere I want to know."

I looked at Sherrie and she shrugged so I told Marge she could borrow Gail's photo. For the next hour we just sat there and socialized. It was a Thursday and the bar had a live band in on Thursday thru Friday and after they set up and started to play Sherrie asked me to dance. I saw frowns on the six other faces at the table as I got up to follow Sherrie out onto the floor. I mentioned the fact that her family didn't seem too keen on my dancing with her and she laughed.

"They are just too damned protective of me. For some reason they don't think they can trust me around a good looking man."

"What business is it of theirs? You are an adult aren't you? Or are you an extremely well developed fourteen year old?"

"They are family and they worry about me. And I guess I have given them some cause. I have made some pretty bad choices where men are concerned."

"And they think I may be another one?"

"Again, they are family. What I'm most worried about right now is your wife."

"Gail? Why are you worried about Gail?"

"I know my sister and if it turns out that your Gail is our step sister Marge will bust her ass to get to meet her and get her involved with the family. Making a play for you with your wife hanging around might be a bit of a pain."

"Making a play for me?"

"Sure. Why do you think I came over to you last night? I'm a good looking broad and guys look at me and watch me all the time, but there was something about you that got to me and that's why I came over."

"That was before you knew I was married."

"True, but she walked out on you and that makes you a free man. Or are you one of those "hold to my vows until the divorce is final" kind of guys."

"No. When she walked it cut me loose."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"I just made my intensions clear so now it is your move."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Dinner over which we will get to know each other and then we see where it goes from there."

"When?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No."

"Then how about right now?"

"Okay. Let whoever you rode with know you are leaving and I'll meet you outside."

"I'll go grab my stuff."

When she came out she saw me waiting on my 110 and I said, "Riding backseat on a Triumph isn't all that comfortable, but we can run by my place and swap the bike for my truck."

"No need" she said, "I've got my own ride" and she went over and straddled a Harley soft-tail. "Lead on Frank; just don't do oriental. Oriental food gives me gas."

Over veal scaloppini at Florintino's I found out that she was twenty-six, had dual degrees in Botany and Geology and worked at the Botanical Gardens over by the Museum of Natural History. We discovered that we had similar likes and dislikes in books, music, films and TV programs. She lived in a condo, had a pet cat named Harry and had a very high sex drive, but was very selective in who she shared it with. That statement was followed by:

"I do hope that you can figure out why I just shared that information with you."

I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I was far from stupid so I simply said:

"Your place or mine?"

"Where do you live?"

I told her and she said, "Your place is closer. If we skip desert we can be there in fifteen minutes."

It was something totally new to me. I had never before had a good looking woman come after me and I had never known a woman as outspoken as Sherrie and who just went after what she wanted.

"I'm not a slut Frank. I just don't see an awful lot of sense in going through a long dance to get you to where you already know you want to go. When I saw you watching me at the bar I saw a flashing light over your head that said "This might be exactly what you are looking for" with an arrow pointing down at you. It might sound silly to you, but I knew as soon as I took a good look at you that I had to find out if that flashing sign was right."

Besides looking like my wife Sherrie also had the same qualities as my wife when it came to love making. She loved oral – both giving and getting – she was multi-orgasmic and there wasn't a position she didn't like. She reduced me to a smoking pile of rubble. Along the way I did manage to give a good account of myself and I did get her off several times. I fell asleep with my dick in her hands as she was making a vain attempt to get me up again and I woke up in the morning with her snuggled in next to me.

The alarm went off and as I was swinging my legs to get out of bed she grabbed me and said:

"There is only one good way to start out the day."

Her hand went to my cock and she gave it a couple of tugs. I turned and slid back under the covers and then slid into her. She was right; it was a good way to start out the day. I offered to share the shower with her, but she declined.

"We would just end up here back on the bed and I really need to get home and get myself ready to go to work. Tonight?"

No fool I so I said, "You bet."

"Good. I'll meet you here. Don't want to waste time going to the bar and tonight I want to do anal. That okay with you?"

Yes indeed; Sherrie and Gail had a lot more in common than just looks.


The next three days we met at my place. I fixed us dinner, we talked some, we made love, talked some more and then made love some more. Friday afternoon she called me at work.

"Marge has been after me for two days now to give her your phone number or put you in touch with her."

"Did she say why?"

"No, but you don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out that it is going to be something to do with your wife."

"Why didn't you just give her the number?"

"Because that would tell her that I know more about you than I want her to know."

"Not hard to figure out. She did see us leave the bar together."

"No she didn't. You left and it was five minutes later before I left. She doesn't know for sure that I left to meet you."

"You sound like you are ashamed to be associated with me."

"Oh no baby, not at all. There are just some things that ... it's complicated baby. I'm not ashamed to be with you. Anyway, since it probably has something to do with your wife what do you want me to tell Marge?"

"If you want to hide me from her maybe I should just show up at the bar. That way she won't know. If I call her she will know you have my number and that will tell her what I guess you don't want her to know."

"Shit! This is not turning out the way I hoped. No baby, go to the bar, but we go together. I'll come by your place tonight and we will go together."


When Sherrie and I walked into Murphy's Bar and Grill at a quarter after six that night I saw John frown when he saw us and while I'm not totally sure I think I saw a look of disgust on Marge's face. We joined the group at the table and the waitress was right there to take our order. As soon as she walked away Marge said:

"Can you get in touch with your wife?"

"I could probably run her down if I was of a mind to."

"Good. Dad says he did get a girl pregnant when he was working on that construction project so it is a good bet that your wife is our sister. You need to get in touch with her and have her call me."

"Whoa up a bit here. I said I could probably get in touch with her if I was of a mind to, but I'm not of a mind to. Any contact from me would get her to thinking I want her to come back and I don't. Besides, having her around your family would complicate things where Sherrie and I are concerned."

I saw Marge and John exchange looks and then John said, "Get serious. You are married and Sherrie is married and you think us knowing your wife will complicate things?"

I looked over at Sherrie and she looked away. Marge picked up on it and said:

"She didn't tell you?"

"I guess it somehow got overlooked. But it doesn't change anything. According to my lawyer if Gail stays gone for five more months I can divorce her for abandonment and that's my plan. I'm not sure what my getting in touch with her will do to that plan, but I'm thinking that knowing where she is will screw things up."

"How do you figure that?" John asked.

"If I know where she is that means that I'll know where to have the papers served and that would turn it into a regular divorce where she would get half of everything and probably alimony. Under desertion or abandonment she gets nothing. So no, I'm not of a mind to find her."

Then Marge said, "Then how about you find her, don't let her know you found her and then tell me where she is?"

"Then she gets involved with you and your family and since Sherrie is part of your family she will be indirectly involved with me and we are back to me knowing where she is. It is in my best interests not to find her until after I get my divorce."

Marge turned to Sherrie and asked, "Can't you get him to help us?"

"Why should I? He's right. Having her around will be a pain in the ass. If Frank doesn't want her around I sure don't."

"But she is your sister."

"We don't know that. We suspect she is, but we don't know and can't know unless we get a DNA comparison and I'm not all that sure that dad would give up a sample for the test."

"I'll talk him into that, but we can't have a DNA test unless we have her. All you have to do is stay away."

"Oh fine! Just stay away from my family because some skank turns up who may or may not be a relative. No thank you."

"Wouldn't work anyway" I put in. "She would want to know why you think she's related to you so you would have to tell her about Sherrie and my picture."

Marge looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds and then she said: "I might as well be blunt about this. There is no problem if you get the hell away from my sister. You've got no business being with her to begin with. She is a married woman. For that matter you are a married man and have no business being with any woman until you get divorced."

I looked around at the group and then I got up and headed for the door. As I walked away I heard John say:

"Way to go Marge. There goes the only way we h..." and I didn't hear the rest because I was out the door and it closed behind me. I wasn't a half mile down the road before Sherrie pulled up alongside me and stayed with me all the way to my place. When we got there and parked the bikes she came over to me and said:

"You were just going to walk away and leave me there?"

"Your family didn't seem to want me around and I'm not about to come between you and your family."

"Fuck them. And besides, it is only Marge that's bitching and I don't pay any attention to her. She's bitched about everything I do and have done since I was twelve."

"When did you plan on telling me about your husband?"

"Not until I was sure we were going to last. It has only been a week Frank, but I feel we have a good thing going for us, but you are still married and until we see how that breaks out for you I didn't see any need to bring up my husband."

"What do you mean "see how it breaks." I already told you I'm going for a divorce on desertion and abandonment."

"That's what you said, but is it really going to happen? You might not admit it to yourself, but you still have some strong feelings for her."

"You could say that. I want to wrap my hands around her cheating neck and strangle her."

"I hate to be the one to break this to you, but when you call out her name in your sleep at night that tells me that there is still something there."

"I call out her name?"

"Three times now and until I knew where you are where she is concerned I saw no need to bring Brian into the mix, but my family brought it out into the open so I might as well get it out of the way. Can we go inside?"

She followed me into the house and I got us both a beer and we sat down at the kitchen table.

"First, you don't need to be looking over your shoulder to see if Brian is creeping up on you. Brian is doing three to five in the state prison for drug dealing. He has been in almost two and if he behaves himself he could make it out on parole in another year. My family's attitude, and I'm sure you noticed the sour looks they have given you, is that I should faithfully wait for him to get out. That is their attitude, not mine. I told him when he started messing around with drugs that sooner or later he was going to get caught and go to jail and when it happened I might or might not be waiting for him when he got out.

"I flat told him that I wasn't going to live a sexless life because he was stupid. He laughed at me and told me that most cops were dumb and all they were bright enough to do was write traffic tickets. He wasn't laughing when an undercover cop slapped the cuffs on him when Brian sold him some cocaine. The "might or might not wait for him" changed to "fuck off and die" the day he was arrested. Just about the time he was being cuffed I was sitting in a doctor's office being told I had a social disease. Apparently Brian was getting a little more than money from some of his customers. He found out how I felt about that when he made his one phone call to me to tell me to arrange bail. I told him he could rot in jail for all I cared. I had to go without sex for eight months while I waited to make sure that the asshole hadn't given me HIV. So that's the deal on my husband. My family doesn't know that part by the way."

"I really call out her name?"

"You do."

"Damn!"

I looked at her for a second or two and then said, "It changes nothing. It is obvious that I loved her when I married her and I guess somewhere in my subconscious mind there are still some good memories of the time we were together. Are you familiar with Travis Tritt?"

"I have a couple of his CDs."

"One of his songs says it all. In "Here's a quarter, call someone who cares" there is a line that says "The truth is you've run and that can't be undone" and that is where things are at with Gail. She is history whether I call out her name in my sleep or not. And that brings up the next question; can you accept that?"

She gave me a long look and then said, "I guess I'm just going to have to take the gamble. How about we head for the bedroom and see if I can burn her out of your mind."


A week went by and one night Sherrie said, "Marge is bugging the hell out of me to get you to help her find your wife."

"I made my position clear on that. I still need five more months before I can file for divorce using abandonment as grounds."

"Marge says that she has a plan that will keep you out of it."

"How could she do that?"

"You find out where your wife is and tell Marge. She will go to wherever your wife is, run into her somewhere and act surprised, show her a picture of me she has in her purse and then start the twenty questions on where your wife is from and all of that. Other than pointing Marge in the right direction you will be out of it."

"It won't work that way and you know it. Marge will want to draw Gail into the family and there are too many in your family who know about you and me and one of them will eventually slip up and let something out. For Marge's plan to work you would have to be willing to stop seeing me until my divorce is final. You willing to do that?"

"Of course not, but there has to be a way we can do it."

"Gail is twenty-five years old and your family has gone those twenty-five years not knowing she even existed. It won't kill them to wait another five months to get in touch with her. Besides, I don't trust Marge. I believe she would rat us out in a heartbeat just to break us up so you can go back to being the faithful waiting wife,"

"Then I guess I'm going to have to tell her the full story. She's going to love that. Her little sister had a social disease. I can hear it now:

"Oh my God; whatever will people think of our family."


There is a saying that I have heard a time or two. "Men plan and the Gods laugh." My plans for divorcing Gail and Marge's plans for meeting Gail all went into the shitter on a Tuesday night. I was working late so Sherrie had stopped at the bar with her family. They were sitting there talking when John suddenly said:

"Oh my God!"

The others looked at him and then turned to look at what he was looking at. They turned just in time to see Gail storm up and pour a beer on Sherrie's head as she screamed:

"You leave my husband alone you filthy fucking whore."

Sherrie was up and off her chair and the fight was on. Gail was getting the worst of it when John and Sherrie's cousin Tom pulled them apart.

I had given Sherrie a key to my place (Gail didn't have one – I'd changed the locks when she ran off) and she was sitting on my couch waiting for me when I got home. I was greeted with, "We have a problem Frank" and then she proceeded to bring me up to date.

"Apparently she has been around here watching the house and she started following me when I'd leave in the morning."

"What happened after they pulled you apart?"

"I left."

"Any idea where Gail went?"

"She was still there when I left and I saw Marge talking to her. What are you going to do now?"

"What I didn't want to do. Now that she is here I can't go the abandonment route so I'll have to serve her papers and do a regular divorce which means I'll end up in the poor house."

"It won't be that bad."

"Of course it will. This is a no fault state which means a fifty/fifty split of assets regardless of the reason for the break up. I'll have to sell the house and give her half of the proceeds. She will get some alimony and half of my pension and 401k. I'll probably have to sell the Triumph to come up with money. She will get a lawyer to make sure that she gets everything coming to her and I'll end up paying for the asshole."

"So don't divorce her."

"What? Are you nuts?"

"I mean don't divorce her now. Wait until she divorces you. While you are waiting get rid of things. She is entitled to half of what you have at the time of filing. So she gets half of the house, so what. My place is bigger and in a better neighborhood. Take your savings out of the bank and close the account. If anyone asks where the money went you say you took up gambling when she left you to give you something to do to take your mind off what she did to you. Sell your Triumph to me.

"Pick out what you want from the house and put it in storage and then say you gave it to Goodwill because there were too many memories of her attached to it and it was driving you to despair. And I'm not sure she can get alimony. That will be up to the judge and if you get the right judge he might not give her any because of what she did and even if he does he might set it low for the same reason.

"And while we are on the subject of money we might as well get this out into the open. I make almost twice as much as you do. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Aren't we getting a little ahead of things here?"

"Not from where I'm standing. It only took me a week to make up my mind about you. I've already filed for a divorce from Brian. That just leaves you to do whatever you are going to do. Do you know yet?"

"Get an address for her or a location where I can have her served and get on with the divorce."

"If Marge got into the long lost sister stuff with your wife maybe she got the information on how to stay in touch. I'll see if I can get it out of her if she has it."

But before Sherrie could get in touch with her sister Marge called me.

"I got your number from your wife."

"And you just had to call me why?"

"The girl is hurting. She loves you and she needs to talk to you."

"I don't need to talk to her. What she did said it all."

"That's just it Frank; she says she didn't do what you think she did. She told me her story and I believe her. I think you owe it to yourself to hear her out."

"Get serious Marge. Do you honestly think she is going to put herself in a bad light? Any story she tells is going to be slanted in her favor. She isn't going to tell a story that makes her look bad."

"Maybe, but like I say, I believe her and you should at least let her talk to you. Hear the girl out and then make up your mind whether to believe her or not."

"I don't even know where to find her."

"She's staying with me right now."

"I hope you know what you are doing."

"I'm almost certain that she is my sister and I take care of family."

"I'll think about it, but I'm not making any promises."

I talked it over with Sherrie and even though I really didn't want to talk to Gail Sherrie insisted that I had to.

"We have a good thing going here babe; what if my talking to her changes things?"

"I feel the same way honey, but things are just too complicated now. What if you don't talk to her and then you find out after we get married that she was telling the truth. What if the DNA test shows that she is my sister and I've taken her husband away from her? If she lied it wouldn't matter, but what if she didn't lie? She is always going to be around; Marge will see to that. No baby, it has to be resolved one way or another before you and I can get married."

"What if your dad won't give up a sample for a DNA test?"

"He has already given the sample. Daddy's not a monster Frank. He called us all in when Marge told him about Gail and he told us all what had happened. He took the job in Tucson to put some distance between himself and mom after he caught her with an old boyfriend. She swore it was nothing but a couple of kisses, but he didn't believe her. While he was in Tucson he met a girl and she came onto him and he figured his marriage was toast anyway so why not.

"Just before the job ended the girl told him she was pregnant. He told her would come home and get a divorce and then come back to Tucson and marry her, but she said she didn't want that. What she wanted was money to pay for an abortion. He tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted that she wasn't going to have a baby so he gave her the money, came home and never heard from her again.

"He came home and he and mom managed to put it back together and he forgot all about what had happened in Arizona. He did confirm that the woman he got pregnant had the same name as Gail's mother so even without the DNA test it is almost certain that Gail is our sister. That is why you need to talk with her honey. If her story isn't true it won't matter if she is my sister and we get married, but if her story is true it will matter."


Two days later I was sitting in Marge's kitchen and Gail was sitting opposite me. Marge had taken her family out for dinner so we could be alone. Gail was fidgety and nervous and I finally had to say:

"Get on with it Gail. I don't want to be here anyway so if you aren't going to talk I'm leaving."

She looked at me and in a quivering voice said, "I miss you Frank. I want to come home."

"You should have thought of that before you left."

"I didn't leave Frank; I swear to God I didn't leave. I was drugged and taken away. I did not leave."

"You were drugged? And I supposed to believe that?"

"It's true Frank; I swear to God it's true,"

"This I've got to hear."

"The last clear memory I have of that night was you shooting pool with Abe, Mike and Jimmy. I remember snatches of conversations, bits and pieces that don't make any sense and then suddenly I was aware that I was having sex. I remember wondering how we got home without my knowing it and I was surprised we were making love since we had just had that big argument over my job and the long hours I was putting in. You accused me of having an affair at work and saying I was working late to cover it. I couldn't figure out why you were making love to me after saying all of those nasty things you said.

"I remember saying, "Thank you Frank, I love you" and then a voice said. "I ain't Frank you little whore. You can call me Sir or Master." I focused on his face and it was a face I'd never seen before, but he was screwing me hard and I was responding like I always do when I make love. Even though I was moaning and having orgasms I kept asking him who he was and where you were and the guy kept saying "Shut up and fuck me slut."

"I faded in and out a couple of times and every time I faded in I was being screwed. I guess he finally ran out of steam because he stopped and I fell asleep. When I woke up I was in bed with some big guy who was heavily bearded and covered with tattoos. I started to get off the bed and I felt a tug on my leg. I looked down and saw that there was a rope tied around my ankle and the other end was tied around his. My moving woke him up and he asked me where I thought I was going and I told him I had to get up, find my clothes, find you and go home. He laughed and told me that I was home.

"Then he told me that you had sold me to him for five hundred dollars and had even given him the date rape drug he had used to knock me out and get me out of the bar. I called him a liar and told him that there was no way you would do that to me and then he said he guessed he was going to have to prove it. He untied me and told me to go take a shower and when I finished he told me that he had called you and you were on the way over to explain things to me. He said he would feed me breakfast while we were waiting.

"The coffee or the food must have been doped because all of a sudden I was being screwed again. He kept me doped up for five days and for those five days he and his friends used me. I had a few lucid moments and during one of them I finally realized that everything I was given to eat or drink was doped. I started faking eating and drinking and then I faked falling asleep. When he fell asleep I got up and ran."

"You expect me to believe this cock and bull story?"

"I had hoped you would. I hoped that you loved me as much as I love you and you would believe me."

"Well I'm sorry Gail, but I don't. How can you expect me to believe this far out tale especially when it comes on top of your affair at work?"

"There was no affair at work Frank. All you had to do was look at my paycheck stubs to see that I was telling you the truth. The overtime hours were right there for you to see. As for my cock and bull story? Like I said, I hoped you loved me enough to believe me without me having to prove it to you, but I guess you don't love me as much as I love you. You probably never did."

She opened her purse, took out something and pushed it across the table to me. I picked it up and it was a business card for a Detective James Davie.

"What's this?"

"Just call him Frank" she said and she got up and left the room.

I called and Detective Davie answered and I identified myself.

"How's your wife doing?"

"Okay I guess."

"That is one gutsy little lady you have there" and then he told me how instead of crawling off somewhere and feeling sorry for herself she had called the police, waited for them to show and then had led them back to where she had been held. The SWAT team took the place down and she identified four of the men taken as men who had used her. Only then did she break down and start crying. She did all that with what the drug tests showed was enough drugs in her system to slow down a horse.

"All four had protested their innocence, but Gail had gone to the hospital and had the rape kit done on her and it proved conclusively that they had used her. Then the men changed their story to she was a willing participant. That story changed when the FBI came in on the case because it was being regarded as a kidnapping. Kidnapping still carries the death penalty so one of the guys got scared and rolled over on the rest of them in exchange for a plea deal. When all was said and done there were nine men in custody on a variety of charges the most major of which was kidnapping and the most minor was the distribution of an illegal substance.

"What came out was that the biker had cottoned to her at the bar and decided to grab her. He used her and then sold her to his buddies and their friends and after a while when he tired of her he was going to take her down to Mexico and sell her to a whore house. But she managed to get away and thanks to Gail the FBI now has solid leads on three other women who had disappeared and the asshole that had snatched her was looking at life in prison without parole at the very least and quite possibly the death penalty for kidnapping. The FBI was working on him to give them information on the other missing girls in exchange for not going for the death penalty.

"Hang onto her son; she's one in a million."

I hung up and sat there staring at the wall and wondering "What the fuck do I do now?"

My mind was full and working overtime as I drove home from Marge's place. I had loved Gail right up until I thought she was cheating on me with some one she worked with and then took off with the biker. No, that wasn't right. I can't say that I loved her "right up until" because you don't just turn love on or off. I still had love for her even after she had gone. Even when she called me and said she wanted to come home two-thirds of me was saying "yes" but the remaining third backed up by anger and rage was saying "Fuck you you miserable backstabbing whore" and in that case the minority ruled. But love or not Gail was gone and I had started up with Sherrie and in almost no time at all my feelings for Sherrie were as strong as the feeling that I'd once had for Gail. Then I find that everything I have been believing about Gail is wrong. Bloody Christ, what the fuck was I going to do.


Sherrie was sitting on my couch when I got home and she looked up from the book she was reading and said, "Well?"

"Not good."

"What happened?"

"The one thing I never expected. She told me some way out story about drugs and kidnapping and I scoffed at it so she gave me the card of a police detective and I called him. He verified every bit of it. She didn't do any of the things I thought she did."

"Where does that leave us?"

"It puts me between a rock and a hard place."

"Explain that please."

"I love you both and pretty much equally. My animosity toward Gail was because I thought she was cheating on me and when I called her on it she ran off with the biker and now it turns out she didn't do either. As much as I want you I've never fallen out of love with her. I want you both and that's my rock and hard place."

"So what are you going to do?"

"In the end there was only one thing I could do. I was married to Gail so she had to be my choice. Sherrie and I had a tearful farewell and Gail came home.

The DNA showed that Gail was indeed Marge and Sherrie's step sister and she was welcomed into the arms of the family and spent a lot of time getting to know her father.


It was a beautiful Sunday morning and I was sitting on the patio sipping my morning coffee and watching the bird's dive bombing the squirrel who was trying to get at their feeder when Sherrie came out and joined me. Sherrie? Oh yeah. As Paul Harvey used to say, "Here is the rest of the story."

There is more of this story...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

For the rest of this story you need to be logged in: Log In or Register for a Free account