Thanks to all of the people who read either version of last week's story. The consensus seems to be that the longer more complete version was better. This week we're doing something a bit more normal. As usual thanks to the tireless Mikothebaby for editing it, even though she's never heard the song. I don't think very many people have. Enjoy SS06.
My gut is so big that I can't even see my feet, but I don't care. I'm flat on my back anyway. The people all around me are smiling at me and I'm in so God damned much pain that I wish they'd knock me out. Right now, I'm headed for surgery and I'm really worried about the guy who did this to me. Before they pulled me away from the bastard, he was on the floor and he wasn't moving at all. After the surgery, I'll be fine. I don't know about him. There will be no way for him to live this down. All of that macho man blather will go out the window when people hear that he was the one passed out on the floor and I was at least awake when he went down.
I'll bet right now you have the wrong idea in your head, don't you. It just goes to show how if you word something the wrong way, it gives people completely different ideas about what is actually going on.
Let me start at the beginning so I can make my story clearer.
My name is Mona Matthews. It used to be Mona Fullerton but I got married. If you had seen me three years ago, you'd never have imagined that I'd ever get married.
Three years ago, I was twenty two years old. I was in my second and final year of college. I know you're thinking that at twenty two I should have been in my fourth year or at least my third. Let me explain some things to you. Growing up, I wasn't exactly a part of one of those perfect nuclear families.
My family, the Fullertons, consisted of my mother, my father, my brother, Tommy and myself. Mom ran off with a slick salesman with a smooth line of shit, before I was five years old. The way I hear it, he told her she was beautiful and she deserved more than my dad could give her. He was supposed to be going places and he did. He took her to New York. He took her to Los Angeles and finally he took her to the bone orchard.
It turned out he made even less money than my dad did, but unlike my dad he also cheated on her. He was one of those guys for whom one woman was never going to be enough. When he saw my mom, he had to have her. Every guy who saw my mom wanted her. Unfortunately, they only wanted her temporarily. My mom's tits entered the room at least two seconds before the rest of her did.
Most guys saw them and were rendered temporarily insane. The salesman was no different. My mom really thought that she could have any guy she wanted. Her opinion of herself wasn't based on reality. She wasn't really that pretty. I should know, I look just like her. She was a short, chunky woman with big tits and delusions of grandeur. And so am I, except for the delusions of grandeur.
Anyway, once she found out that the guy was giving her a bunch of shit it was too late. She was stuck in another state and she had too much pride to be able to call my daddy to come and get her. That was even stupider because my dad would have gone after her in a heartbeat.
Why would he have done that you ask? It's simple, he loved the bitch. My daddy worked his ass off to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads, but it was never enough for my mom. She thought she was entitled to the finer things in life although she'd never once had a job and barely kept the house. By the time I was four, I knew every item on McDonald's menu because she was always calling my dad and telling him she was too tired to cook so he'd have to bring something home. I think that was why I was so chunky growing up. I'm a lot slimmer now because I eat better and I get more exercise too.
Even after what she did to him, running off with another man and leaving him with two kids to raise alone, my daddy would have taken her back. He loved that woman so much that he'd have done anything for her and suffered any indignity just to make her happy. What a sucker.
Anyway, the salesman's eyes kept wandering. That kind of man never stops looking for something new. Less than a year after she left us, he'd already taken up with another woman and they were arguing constantly. My brother, Tommy, told me about it once. He knew because she'd called home and asked Tommy if my dad was home. We think she was trying to bluff the salesman into thinking she was going to come home.
Tommy said the salesman told her to go ahead and get her fat ass out of his house. He was tired of fucking her anyway and he already had someone new. That was all Tommy heard before she started begging him to stay and put the phone down. Anyway, it was probably that same day that it happened. It must have been because we heard about it the next day.
It turned out that the for once the salesman hadn't been lying. He was messing around with someone else. And she, like my mom, had been married at the time. Only the new woman was married to one of those mob types. Someone kicked in the door while mom and the salesman were eating and shot both of them multiple times. The salesman learned a lesson about screwing the wrong woman and mom was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
At the time, I didn't really understand what had happened. I was only four when she left. I missed her for a few days but that was it. I was still loved and clothed and fed, so life went on. When I got older and heard about it, I became determined not to ever do the same things. My brother, Tommy, joined the Marines and left us when he turned eighteen. I haven't seen or heard from him since. My daddy barely lived long enough for me to turn eighteen, myself. He'd been trying to drink himself to death since mom left us and two weeks after my eighteenth birthday he collapsed.
The doctors were amazed that he'd lived as long as he had. His liver was so destroyed by the amount of alcohol he drank every night that he had to have been in constant pain for the last couple of years. I personally hope that there's no such thing as life after death. My daddy is too good a man to have him reunited with that bitch because they're both dead now. And I'm sure that's what he was hoping for.
Anyway, I moved in with my aunt. She was my father's sister and she'd hated my mother as much as I did. Unfortunately, as I've said, I look a lot like my mom and I'm sure Aunt Sally saw my mother every time she looked at me.
Aunt Sally had two sons. One, who was older than me at twenty and one, who, at eighteen, was my age.
Both of them were constantly trying to either catch me without my clothes or trying to sneak a feel. And they were my cousins. When I brought it up to my aunt, she immediately blamed me. She accused me of sticking my chest out to entice her two precious angels. I guess she thought that somehow my evil titties just leaped out and pressed themselves against her two innocent sons.
She was sure that I'd end up just like my mother. I realized then that staying there for very long wasn't an option. I got a job working in a mom and pop convenience store close to my aunt's home. It wasn't bad for a first job. Working with mom was brutal, she expected me to do everything. I had to run the counter, stock the shelves, sweep the floors and do everything she could think of. Working with pop was a lot better. He often gave me little bonuses and extras and hardly made me do anything.
Pop treated me really well. He was always hugging me whenever mom wasn't around and for an eighteen year old girl, I was pretty naïve. After I'd been there for a while, pop started buying me presents. He'd say that someone like me deserved pretty things. Little did I know that pop was setting me up. He took his time about it, but in less than a year pop got my cherry. I thought I was in love and I thought pop loved me too, until the night that mom caught us in the store room. Pop swore that I'd led him on and teased him beyond all reasonable expectation. According to him I was always bending over and wiggling my ass in his face or flashing my tits at him.
Naturally, mom believed him and I was history. And, of course, my aunt believed them when she called to ask why I'd been fired. My next job was working at a gas station doing the same thing. The only difference was that the station was owned by three brothers. This time I knew that I needed the job. I wanted to move away from my aunt's place. She was forcing me to go to church every Sunday and spend all day there. At the same time I never had any free time because I was always working, cleaning her house or cooking. I felt like a slave.
One of the men from the church asked me why I wasn't in school. At first I figured that it was his hustle. The school thing was his way of doing something for me so he could fuck me. By that time I figured, the guys who owned the station were all doing it, so what could it hurt.
He had me fill out a lot of financial aid papers and sent them in. To my surprise, he got me a hardship case scholarship. It paid for tuition, books and room and board as long as I kept my grades up to a certain level. I really didn't know what I wanted to study. I thought about business so maybe I could get a job as a secretary or something like that. Everyone thought it was a good idea. When I gave it further thought, I hated it. As a secretary I'd always have some guy who wanted to bend me over his desk. My job would never be about my skills so I had to come up with something else.
.... There is more of this story ...