Hi Folks. Thanks very much for the comments and emails on last week's story. This one is very different from that story. First because it's much shorter. And secondly because although there is actual cheating in the story it doesn't really manifest until near the end, but I promise you it's there. Also I have to warn you because there are a few of you who still have trouble remembering that these are again only fictitious characters that I made up while I was washing my car. No actual people were injured in the making of this very fictitious story. All of the fictitious characters who are injured or killed during the story were assholes anyway and they still got up and had coffee after you finished reading the story. This is a weird one. Okay you've been warned. Thanks as usual to the incredible Mikothebaby for editing this story while proudly displaying her new Steelers tattoo.
I should have gone to college. That was my first waking thought that morning. From talking to my dad for most of my early life, that was what he always told me. My dad worked hard for most of his life putting a roof over our heads and food on the table. The thing he regretted the most in life was that he wasn't a more successful man. He blamed his mediocre state in life on his not going to college.
"Danny, wake up!" the impersonal voice of the nurse didn't seem any more personal just because she used my name. I slowly opened my eyes ... make that my eye. I was still getting used to having just one even after all of the months I'd been in recovery after...
"The doctor is here," she said.
"I've seen enough doctors to last me the rest of my life," I said.
"Not a doctor-doctor," she said smiling. "This is the one who wants to talk to you about what happened."
I turned and looked across the room. With only one eye it was difficult to judge any form of depth perception, so determining the distance between us was harder. I didn't know whether or not it was safe to ask her any questions about the guy or not.
From looking at her though, she seemed to have her panties all twisted up about him being here. That meant that she either found him attractive to her personally, or that he was well known or famous.
I decided that talking to him couldn't hurt. After all of the trials and interviews with lawyers and prosecutors, I'd told my story more times than I wanted to even think about. Somehow, I never came out the hero. I guess it was just a different day. It was a different era. Being a hero no longer meant anything. In the old days, if a guy was hurt defending his lady's honor he was lauded. Nowadays, you could be beaten or tortured to within an inch of your life and it just meant nothing.
I guess telling one more person my story wouldn't make what I'd done any less foolish.
The guy shuffled his way over to my bed. I sat up to look at him. He tried to help me sit up.
"Can we go somewhere out of this room to talk?" I asked.
He nodded and looked around. "Let me get your chair," he said. His voice was neither friendly nor oppositional. It was slightly higher pitched than mine, but that too could have been a trick of my ears.
"I hate that thing," I spat. "Can't they fix it so it's comfortable?"
"What would be the point?" he asked. "As soon as you're back on your feet, you're out of it. It's not like you're going to be using the chair for a long time."
He wheeled me out into a small garden on a large balcony. It almost didn't feel like we were on the roof of a building. If I closed my eye and just smelled the flowers and plants I could almost believe that I was in the country. When this is all over, I thought.
"So Danny," he began.
"Oh yeah," I said. "Well I followed him to..."
"No," he interrupted. "I want to know everything. Not just what happened at the ending; I want to hear about your entire life." Well, that was certainly different, I thought. Maybe this guy would listen to me. Maybe he could see it from my point of view.
"Very well," I said, smiling. "The first thing you need to know is that my name is Daniel James Snyder. I am not like you. I am the last gladiator in the new Rome." He looked at me as if I was out of my fucking mind.
"Okay," I said. "It was just a joke. I grew up as normal as can be. Our home was solidly in the middle of the middle class. My dad is a plumber and my mom works in a bar. My grandparents on both sides are still alive and I have uncles and aunts and cousins galore."
"In fact, that's what started this whole thing off. You see, both of my parents worked. My dad worked for an industrial and residential plumbing company. So he worked full time, five or six days a week. He was and is your average guy next door. You know; the beer and football type of guy. He makes a good living. But on a plumber's salary, we did well, although we weren't exactly rolling in the dough. My mom has worked in the bar for most of her life. The bar is a family business and it's more of a hobby than anything else."
"For my mom, the paycheck was secondary to just going to the bar. I'm not sure how much or how little she actually brought home, but I recently found out some surprising things that have just come to light."
"Like what?" asked the doctor.
"Well," I began again. "I was pretty sure that my dad isn't really my dad, biologically speaking. I always thought that I was just a sacrifice he was willing to make to get the prize. I found out very recently that he never knew. He really believed I was his son and he's always treated me that way. You see, before he and my mom got married there were three or four guys that she was uhm ... dating. They were all young guys who frequented the bar back in those days. Apparently, they all wanted to get into her panties and from what I'm hearing now, they all did. I don't think any of them knew that they were all fucking my mom. But with guys being as competitive as they are, they all fought and argued over her."
"That is, until she came up pregnant. When that happened, the competition ended. Three of those guys got the fuck out of Dodge. One went off to the Navy and was stationed somewhere overseas. Another went off to college abroad and couldn't be reached. The third guy just disappeared. My dad, on the other hand, married her. I think he suspected from the start that he might not be my father, but he loved my mom enough to take me as part of a package deal. Over time, as I became more and more like him and people began to comment on how much we looked alike, the suspicions disappeared. I look so much more like the members of his family than I do my mom's family, that there was no doubt that I was his child."
"He raised me as his own son and over the years, no one ever questioned it. I know that for him, it really was true love for my mom. I can see it even now in the way that he looks at her. You see to my dad, my mom is some kind sex goddess. He's always comparing her to all of those supermodels that you see on TV. And in his mind she wins every time. The reality though, is that my mom really isn't very attractive. Back in the sixties, when they were young and during the seventies, eighties and nineties, society had its head up its ass when it came to the standards for feminine beauty. The way they looked at it, if you were thin you were in. And my mom to this day is very thin. She has very severe facial features, no tits to speak of and boyish hips."
"Her legs are skinny and her knees and elbows are so sharp, that I don't know how my dad can sleep in the same bed with her without getting stabbed to death. I'm also sure that she occasionally cheated on him. She works the bar during the early afternoon hours before it gets really busy, with the occasional night shift during special events. Over the years, I'd sometimes go to the bar to do my homework or after school if no one was at home. During those times, I'd seen her go back into the bar's office with men and they'd both emerge smiling and pulling their clothes back into place. At the time, I didn't know what was going on, but the memories stayed with me."
"Anyway, after I was born, I guess that my dad expected my mom to stay home and be a mom, but she had other ideas. I guess she really didn't want to give up being the belle of the bar and her admirers even for a husband and family."
"In those days, there was really no such thing as a day care center. If you had a problem, your family helped out. In this case, my dad had a younger sister. My aunt Kerri was twenty five when I was born and married to a very much older man. Her husband was sick all of the time and eventually just wasted away leaving her alone. Financially, she was comfortable and didn't really have to work, but she was very lonely. So watching me was a good solution for both my mom and for my Aunt Kerri."
"My Aunt Kerri didn't have very much luck with men back then because she and her sister in law, my mom, were very different. Where my mom was bone thin and outgoing; Kerri was overweight and shy. My mom has no tits but is willing to share what she has with anyone who wants a look or a lick. Aunt Kerri has very big breasts and keeps them under lock and key."
"Aunt Kerri isn't a whale or anything like it. If the ideal woman is somewhere around 5'6" and 125 pounds, you could forget it though, because my Aunt Kerri is closer to 5'2" 180. The funny thing about is, that now that I'm older, women like my Aunt Kerri are the norm. You see them everywhere. If you go to the supermarket, you'll see far more women who look like my Aunt Kerri than you will women like my mom."
.... There is more of this story ...