Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Cheating, .
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Wife’s actions make him think about marriage
Wife's actions make him think about marriage
Goddamn banks! Like the housing crisis, financial meltdown, credit crunch and taxpayer bailouts, my marriage problems started with the Damn Bank.
Okay to be totally honest, it was not completely the bank's fault, but it sure as hell started with a phone call from the bank.
"Hello, this is Andrew from your Megabank credit card early fraud warning department. How are you today?"
Andrew from Megabank? It sounded more like Apu from the Simpsons TV show Qwik Mart.
"I am doing well Andrew from Megabank. How are things in New Delhi?" I replied.
In fact, I was not doing well, but standing in my living room with a towel wrapped around my waist and dripping water all over the carpet, having stepped out of the shower.
"Ah very good sir. We have noticed several unusual charges on your credit card. Do you have the card in your possession?"
I wandered into the bedroom and grabbed my wallet off the dresser. "Yes Andrew, the credit card is here."
"Okay sir, can you take a moment to go over some recent transactions with me."
"Yeah, sure Andrew, let's have at them," I said.
After a few minutes to verify it was me, "Andrew" started to rattle off charges.
"Sir, the most recent one is for two tickets to the Yugoslavian Lawn Bowling championship-club seating, after that we have..."
It was obvious my credit card info had been hacked, stolen, whatever, and the thief was having a grand old time with it. After more talking, my current credit card was canceled and Andrew from Megabank promised a new card would be in the mail tomorrow. In the meantime, I needed to review my statement and advise of any charges that were not mine, or my wife.
My wife of seven years, Amy, was working at the bakery, we both did. Yeah, I know all the jokes about how we are rolling in dough, and must take home a lot of bread. Ha ha, we have pretty much heard them all.
I was working the night shift while going to school during the day. Our bakery was a small regional operation, but the owner was old school, and liked to hire within the ranks. Last year, he had called both Amy and I into his office, after I had been turned down again for a management office position.
"Bill, Amy," The owner said after we had sat down. "You are both smart young people, and I want employees like you on my team. Workers who know the business from the floor up, not some damn grad school MBA's who don't know whole wheat from grain, telling me how to run my business."
He came around and sat on the corner of his desk in front of us. "However, everyone knows I had to take money from them damn 'Vulture' capitalists to expand. Them bastards want everyone in the front office to have a degree."
Amy and I both looked at each other. We had graduated high school only. I knew Amy had barely squeaked by. I could have gotten a scholarship, but we were young and in love, and had gotten married 7 years ago, right after graduation.
Amy spoke first. "But we have both been working here since we were sixteen. Shouldn't that count for something?"
The owner just waved his hand. "Damn straight it should! I could push the issue, but I want to groom you two to become decision makers, not just transfer you from the floor to some place in the office, where them damn vultures would never let you move up."
He then walked back around his desk and sat down. "Here is what I propose. I'll transfer you to the overnight shift. Amy, you run the lines, and Bill, you supervise the loading dock. That will allow you to enroll at the University and attend classes during the day. I know it is going to be tough, but you are both young and strong, plus the University has a year round, three year advanced business program."
I cleared my throat before speaking up. "We appreciate you thinking of us, but the funds..."
The owner just waved his hand at me. "As per the new company bylaws, I cannot promise the bakery will pay you back. However let me say that if you keep your noses clean and graduate, you will reap far more than the funds you spent for the degree."
And so we had enrolled. I had no problem, and did well. Amy was miserable, as schoolwork was never her strong suit. After a semester, she dropped out, returning to her former position on the day shift
Thus the reason why today I was sitting in front of the computer at 3:00 in the afternoon going over months of our credit card transactions instead of getting some sleep for my midnight shift.
The combo of classes, bakery and schoolwork pretty well drained all my energy. Amy took up most of the slack, doing the day to day tasks, from bill paying to housework. She really went all out trying to support me in her own way, putting dinner off until I rose for my night shift, and packing my lunches with little love notes inside. I thought we worked well as a team. I prepared breakfast for both of us, as I was just getting home from the midnight shift when Amy was waking up. We often snuck in a quick "love session" before she departed for work and I headed off to class.
Although we had talked in depth about it, I know it was hard on her with the added expense of tuition, but more important to Amy was putting off the family we had planned to start, and the purchase of a house. Again, I thought how lucky I was to have a partner like Amy, who could see a better future for both of us with just a little present day sacrifice.
Turning my mind back to the credit card charges, it was easy to see the pattern of what was ours. The normal gasoline purchases, grocery store bills, hardware and department costs, etc. The only charge I could not recall was a five month old $149 fee from a vendor AMDB.
"Who the heck is AMDB?" I thought.
Then I did what everyone does when they have a question, I did a "Google" search.
I got a laugh when I saw the results. AMDB was a website Ashleymadison.com. The website was for matching married people looking to have an affair. "Life is short. Have an Affair!" was their motto.
"Ha, ha, ha." I chuckled. "Seems like our little credit card hacker was looking for some married nookie."
The website hooking up married people who wanted to cheat had me shaking my head in amazement. Not that a spouse would cheat, but that someone had thought of a way (besides divorce attorneys) to make money off affairs. "My God," I thought. "I guess the old saying there is profit in everything if you look hard enough is true."
That night over dinner I told Amy about the credit card being canceled and new ones to arrive.
"Damn Bill!" Amy exclaimed. "How did this happen? I know we are always careful with our credit card."
I just shrugged. "You can only do so much. Once you give out your card, or card number to any merchant, anyone along the chain can use it. I mean we are not liable for any of the bogus charges, but in the end we all suffer as everyone raises prices to cover the loss."
"Bastards!" Amy spat. "I'll go over our bills to make sure we do not pay for anything not ours."
"Already did," I started to tell Amy about our horny credit card hacker and the AMDB/Cheating web site charge. "Oh I got a good one for you Amy. Let me tell you about this one charge, its AMDB..."
Amy interrupted, waving her napkin at me. "AMDB? Yes Bill, that one is mine, it's a fabric store, for some curtains I bought."
Alarm bells started to ring as I twisted around to survey the curtains behind us. "Amy when did you change the curtains? They look the same to me."
Amy face got flushed as she glanced away. "I changed my mind Bill before I put them up, and brought the curtains back. We were supposed to get a refund. Let me contact AMDB tomorrow."
Dropping my fork on the plate, I felt sick.
"Bill, are you Okay?" Amy asked, now looking at me. "Your face is all white. Maybe you should call in sick tonight? I can stay home tomorrow and take care of you."
I rose from the table, and tried to hide my feelings. "No Amy, you have done enough. I gotta go."
I was useless at work that night. Luckily, my crew knew their job and needed only minimum supervision. Normally this was a good thing and allowed me to get some schoolwork done. Now the extra time just had me dwelling on this information about Amy.
"Damn, was Amy cheating?" I thought. "Who the hell signs up for an affair, like choosing a toaster off Ebay."
I threw away the lunch she had packed me in the trash. Amy's included note "Love you Bill. Can't wait until morning" with its O's and X's had a small hand drawn heart. I used to look forward to these little letters, now the writing just seemed to mock me.
For the first time, I did not go home after work to have breakfast, or a "love session" with Amy. I headed right to the University campus, killing time before my first class.
Amy rang my cellphone a half a dozen times, even sending me few texts asking how I was feeling. I did not return her calls. However I did text back that I was going to the library then shut my phone off.
Students at the University can be divided into three groups. The first is the working students. Some older, like myself going back to school, and other younger people that are attending classes between minimum wage jobs. We were easy to spot by our sleep deprived faces.
Next, was the majority of kids' right out of high school. This group lived in the dorms, pledged sororities and fraternities, got involved in school activities, etc. For a lot of them, this was their first time away from home, and some treated it as an extended vacation paid for by Mommy and Daddy.
Then there were the military vets. They were about the same age as their sorority and frat counterparts, but were light years away in attitude and had a maturity level far beyond their years. The tall pocked marked faced boy who spoke with a southern drawl so slow you thought he was mentally retarded? His speech hid a razor sharp mind that spent two tours disarming/disposing IEDS.
The little pixie sized, ponytailed blond girl, that looked like she belonged on the cheerleading squad? You never would have guessed she had a dozen confirmed kills. Nicknamed "Dead Eye Jane", she had lost an eye during a convoy ambush, but still manned the twin 50 cals. "Jane" used "Ma Duce" to put the ambushers' "Dicks" in the dirt
These veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan had earned their various GI and other government aid with sweat and blood. They did not tolerate either students or teachers wasting their time. Disciplined, they stuck together, and they were an outspoken bunch, as I found out my first year when I met my partner for my organic chemistry class.
Ileana was tall, almost six foot, skinny as a rail, with flaming red hair.
I was sitting at my assigned lab station when she came up. Dressed in a tee shirt with an Air force logo, she stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Rose your lab partner. Everyone calls me Ileana, and I'm gay."
"Um Hi Rose ... I mean Ileana," I said, shaking her hand. "My name is Bill, and um ... I'm catholic, does that count, or get me extra points?"
Ileana just grinned. "Pleased to meet you Bill, I just wanted to make sure we won't have any problems. If so we can get reassigned right now."
"No problem on my end. Ah ... why do they call you Ileana?" I asked
Ileana took a seat on the stool, and organized her books at our station. She than took her fist and pounded on her left thigh. It made an odd clunk sound.
"Got a fake leg." Ileana said matter of factly. "So 'I lean a' to the left. Get it?"
I was so shocked I didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Ileana saved me.
"Don't worry Bill I hate that 'politically correct' bullshit. Besides, it's not like I was some hero. Fucking mortar round hit the mess hall. Took my leg and messed up a perfectly good sub sandwich."
Again, I was saved as the Instructor came in and we spent the rest of the class going over rules of the lab, tests, what to expect, and safety. As always, there were a few jackasses in the class. This time it was some overgrown bozo with a couple of his buddies. The idiot still was wearing his high school letter jacket, as if anyone cared anymore. He and his buddies kept making fart noises, generally disrupting the class. This earned them laser like stares from some of the "vets". Letterboy and his pals just thought they were too funny.
As Ileana and I were walking out of lab, she had her head down and bumped into "Letterboy" out in the hall.
Letterboy spun around. "Watch where you are going bitch!" he spat at Ileana.
Ileana just looked coolly at him. "Sorry, it was an accident Tinkerbelle, no need to get your panties in a wad."
Letterboy's face got red for a moment. Turning to his buddies he said. "This bitch ain't got no tits. Bet she is a dyke." Letterboy then faced Ileana again. "What about it carpet muncher? Ever been mistaken for a man?"
Letterboy's cronies hooted in laughter. Ileana tilted her head before replying. "Nope, I've never been mistaken for a man. How about you? Anyone ever mistake you for a man?"
Letterboy's face got real red this time as he took a step toward Ileana. "Think you're tough bitch? I'm gonna kick your lesbo ass"
My heart was really pounding. I wanted to step in, or back Ileana up, but the last fight I had been in was with my brother when we were six years old fighting over the last slice of pizza. I saw some movement behind Letterboy's friends, so I took a breath, stepping in between Letterboy and Ileana.
Addressing Letterboy, I said, "There are four of you and two of us. It's not a fair match." Pausing for effect I continued. "You need to go get more guys."
Letterboy turned even darker red as he gestured behind him without turning around. "What Gal Pal? You think you can take on all four of us?"
I shrugged before answering. "We'll never know, because three of you left."
Letterboy spun around to see his three friends had vanished. However, facing him were over a half dozen of the "vets". Standing shoulder to shoulder, every hand seemed to be holding a sharp or blunt instrument.
A short, broad shouldered guy with a muscular build and USMC tee shirt was in the center of the group. One side of his face was a mass of molten scars that ran into his crew cut hair.
In a voice that that came right off the parade ground, I heard him bark, "FORMER AIRMAN ILEANA. DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?" I saw him raise his arm that had a metal attachment in place of the hand. He pointed the metal appendage at Letterboy. "IS THIS ... CIVILIAN CAUSING YOU ISSUES?"
Ileana pushed past me, stepping face to face with Letterboy, who was spinning his head from the "vets" to Ileana, to the hallway.
Staring straight into Letterboy's eyes Ileana said in a low voice to him. "You wanna scamper off and join your girlfriends, or do we have an issue?"
Letterboy tried to speak but no words came out of his mouth. He just shook his head.
Ileana took a step back and addressed the "vets". "Thank you for your offer, but no assistance is needed. This ... gentleman was just ... leaving."
Letterboy saw his opening and bolted from the building.
That incident was over a year ago. Ileana and I become friends and study partners having most of the same classes. My wife, Amy, did not like Ileana, I do not know if Amy was threatened by Ileana sexual orientation or the fact she felt Ileana's gayness was just an act. Amy believed gay women just needed the right man to set them "straight".
One time, I told Ileana about my wife Amy's theory about a right man making a gay woman straight, Ileana just laughed.
"Bill, no man ever caused a gay lady to become straight. But many a man has caused a straight lady to become gay."
That was back in better times. Now today, I was sitting in the classroom when Ileana plopped down in the seat beside me. This was a required class to satisfy our humanities requirement titled "Psychology 103 Interpersonal Relationships". Better known to most students as "Nuts and Sluts".
Ileana looked closely at me. "You look like hell boyfriend. Someone shoot your dog? Screw your wife? Screw your wife's dog?"
I jumped at her statement, and Ileana's eyes opened wide. "Bill, I know you don't own a dog, you..."
Ileana was interrupted by the entrance of our professor. He clapped his hands to get everyone's attention, than started writing on the board.
"Today my young charges, we are going to discuss Chapter 8. "Interpersonal relationships in the traditional marriage." Some say the traditional marriage is dead or at least doomed. Mainly due to shifting economic conditions and opportunities for men and women. You ladies today now have a chance to be as equal as men. But is that a good thing? Will the "hook-up" culture end fidelity or need for marriage? Many social scientists think so."
He turned back to the board to write some names.
"These social scientists are not alone in their thinking. In 1992, author Dalma Heyek filled The Erotic Silence of the American Wife with what at the time, seemed like heresies: stories of women whose lives were not ruined by having affairs. She chronicled women who were not sorry, who were not punished for having sex out of wedlock. Two years later, In Tempted Women: The Passions, Perils and Agonies of Female Infidelity, Carol Botwin called adultery the "fastest growing women's sport" and attributed its increasing popularity, in part, to women having their own jobs, money, power. She called these women "The Groundbreakers."
I could not take it anymore. Grabbing up my books I fled the classroom.
Ileana caught up after class with me sitting on a bench outside the student union.
Dropping her stack of book next to me, Ileana sat down. "OK Bill, spill it. What's the sitrep?"
While listening to my tale, Ileana opened up her laptop, and was typing away furiously.
After I finished, Ileana held up her hand to prevent me from speaking. After a few minutes, she spun her laptop around to face me. She was logged onto that cheating website.
"Bill, we need to get more intel on the situation. It says here you can sign up for everything from cybersex, to chats, to full out anonymous sex. So we are not sure if your wife has done anything."
"Great Ileana," I said dejectedly "My wife may only be having sex on line. What a comfort. Don't change your major to marriage adviser."
"Jesus Christ, Bill," Ileana snapped at me. "If your balls and brains shrink any more, you'll be a member of Congress. Now listen up, you need to get her website user name and password. Odds are it is on her smart phone. Do you know Amy's smart phone password?"
"Amy's smart phone password is 1 2 3 4, same as the day she got the phone."
"Perfect Bill. Grab her phone tomorrow and put a piece of tape on the battery. She will think the battery needs recharging. Grab the SIM card and bring it to me."
"What then?" I asked
"We will make a plan when we find out more." Ileana closed her laptop. "God I hate fucking cheaters." She muttered. "I saw so many people over in the sandbox that got screwed over. Goddamn Dear John letters and emails were as common as mail call. Relationships from a year to decades got fucked over. So many guys got blindsided. I do not know who were worse, the bitches who abandoned their guys from ½ a world away, or the cunts that cleaned them out when they got off the homeward plane."
Ileana got up, pulling me to my feet. "Now buck up, I'll give you my Psych notes. Come on we got three more classes today."
Feeling more like a dead man than a student, I let Ileana push me toward our next class.
When I came home from school, Amy's car was in the driveway. I walked in the door to hear her vacuuming upstairs. Seeing Amy's cellphone in the charger on the kitchen counter, I took the opportunity to unplug the charger, put a piece of tape over her battery contacts and grab her SIM card.
I had just finished when the vacuuming stopped and I heard Amy call out. "Bill? Bill is that you? Are you OK?"
"I'm in the kitchen Amy," I answered. "What are you doing home from work now?"
Amy came flying down the stairs. "Bill, I left work early, I was so worried when you did not come home this morning, and then you were not answering my calls. I wanted to make sure you are OK." With that Amy put the back of her hand to my forehead. "You feel a little warm, are you running a fever?"
"No, I am fine Amy. Just tired. I'm gonna grab a shower and go to bed."
Amy gave me a little smile, than grabbed my crotch. "Want a little company in the shower? I missed you this morning."
I was not in the mood. "Maybe later Amy after I wake up. Right now all I can think about is sleeping."
Amy gave me a peck on the lips. "OK Bill, but you owe me."
I had no reply as I headed toward the shower.
That night at work Ileana showed up with a small guy with thick glasses.
"You get her SIM card Bill?" Ileana asked.
"Better, I got her whole cell phone. Amy thought something was wrong with the charger so she gave me the phone and charger."
"Cool," Ileana said, handing over the phone to the guy with glasses. "This is my friend from 'over there'. He does stuff with electronics and computers."
The guy with glasses just grinned as he put Amy's SIM card into some sort of reader, then attached a connector to Amy's cell phone. "Great, I am a level 6 cryptologist with a master's degree in electronic engineering and my own security software consulting business, and what respect do I get? 'He does stuff with electronics and computers'."
"Blah, Blah, Blah," Ileana said. "Can you do this? Or you just bragging so I'll introduce you to that cute dancer at the university."
"Done!" Glasses said, pulling out the SIM Card and disconnecting Amy's Cellphone. He then handed them over to me along with a USB stick. "Everything is on there you need to know, passwords, call logs, texts. If it was on the phone, you got it now."
"Thanks" I said, escorting both Ileana and Glasses to the parking lot. I told my foreman I would be in the office doing paperwork and only to disturb me if it was critical.
Steeling myself, I inserted the USB into my laptop and prepared for the worse.
A few hours later I was drained. Every time I thought it could not get worse, it did. With the phone info, and username, password, I was able to log into the cheaters website as my wife, Amy, plus use her phone info to view all her text history. Not only was Amy having cybersex in chat rooms almost every night, but her texts had her meeting guys around town at least once a week. Amy's actions followed a set pattern; chat room conversations filled with overtones of role playing, BDSM, exhibitionism, and other actions she had always rebuffed me at.
Then if her texts were any indication, she was carrying out sex acts with strangers at various encounters. Hell, Amy often hesitated at just giving me a blow job, yet she was sucking off guys under tables in the middle of restaurants and getting ass fucked in the back seats of cars in public parks. I do not know if it was any consolation, but it never seemed to be the same guy twice, although most of her fuck buddies flooded her text account begging for return get-togethers.
Like a train wreck, I could not take my eyes away from the screen detailing Amy's actions. Only when one of my guys knocked on the door to let me know they were clocking out, did I see what time it was.
Ileana was waiting for me outside the building to our first class. For the second time, I had skipped my breakfast with Amy.
Ileana saw it in my eyes before I even said a word. "That BITCH!" she spat. "Well you know the layout now Bill. What are you gonna do?"
I sat down on a bench. I felt weary, like I had run a marathon. "Oh Amy is gone, we are finished." I put my hands in my pockets. "I just feel so screwed. I really thought she loved me, we have been together forever. Going to live happily ever after with the white picket fence and 2.5 kids, plus the dog named Rover. Damn my whole relationship with Amy was all built on lies."
Ileana swatted me on the shoulder as she said, "Hummm, a relationship built on lies? I thought that was the very definition of marriage?"
I gave her a sour look before replying, "Right now, Amy and I don't have much, so it not like there is anything money wise to fight over. It just pisses me off that Amy is going to walk away from this scot free, while I get to be the cuckolded fool."
"Bill, listen, Amy is gonna really regret her actions when she finds out you know."
I looked at Ileana. "Sure, Amy may be upset she got caught. But so what? In a couple months or a yea, r Amy will get over it, latch onto some other sucker or one of her better fuck buddies. I'll still be the God Damn fool. Shit I wish there was some way to make her pay for it. You know pay for it but not go to jail."
Ileana looked at me a second then said, "Let's mind fuck her."
I was confused. "What the hell are you talking about 'Mind Fuck Her'?''
Ileana was almost giddy with glee. "Bill, you said you have been with Amy forever. What is she afraid of? Her deepest fears? Getting old? Ugly? Wrinkles?"
I looked at Ileana and said one word. "Fat."
"Fat?" Ileana repeated.
"Yeah, fat," I echoed. "Amy's mother is over 300 pounds. She is nicest lady in the world, everyone loves her. Hell Amy's Mom is one of the things I am going to miss when we split."
"Bill that is nothing," Ileana countered. "Every girl over the age of 12 thinks she is too fat."
"No, you do not understand Ileana. All of Amy's aunts and relatives are north of 250 pounds. Amy was a chubby girl growing up. She got teased all through junior high and most of high school before she lost weight. Amy is deathly afraid she is fat, getting fat or going to be fat. It is like a phobia with her."
Ileana had a gleam in her eye. "Bill let me think this over. That bitch Amy is NOT going to fuck over one of my friends without some payback."
Two days later I was in the bedroom. I had just vacated the shower after returning home from my night shift and was getting reading to head to class.
"Darn it!" I heard Amy exclaim from bathroom.
A few seconds later, Amy walked out. ""Bill, can you check the scale. It says I gained four pounds. Darn thing must be broken."
Now I knew the scale was working correctly, as I had adjusted the digital scale to be four pounds heavier before I left for work last night.
"Amy the scale is fine," I lied, shouting to Amy as I stood on the scale. "In fact, I even lost a pound."
As Amy reentered the bathroom, I quickly stepped off the scale as the readout returned to "0 0".
"Bill, Do I look fat in this?" She asked, buttoning up her slacks.
"What? You mean in this room?" I replied, squeezing by her.
"That is not what I meant Bill, and you know it!" Amy snapped at my back.
I gave no reply, so she tried a different tack. Standing in the bathroom door, Amy undid her bra. She knew I liked her beasts. "You don't think I am getting fat do you Bill?"
Normally this was my cue to compliment her and get some sex in return. But not this time.
I just shrugged after glancing up at her. "Amy, a few pounds just means there is more of you for me to hold."
That was not the answer she was looking for. Amy hooked her bra closed, and stormed into the bathroom slamming the door.
I grinned inside as I put on my shoes. "Let the Games begin" I thought to myself.
And so it went the rest of the first week, Amy fishing for compliments, while I deftly reflected them with replies that hinted she was looking heavier. The hassle of switching cartons, replacing her skim milk with heavy cream, low fat margarine with high calorie butter, etc. was a pain. But was worth it as the extra calories made her feel bloated. Amy complained about feeling slow, and lacking energy.
I even started calling her "Butterball". It was a name Amy hated and loved. Her late father had given her the nickname as a small child, so it brought back good memories. However it also was what some teasing classmates had taunted Amy with, so it also tended to make her depressed.
Meantime Ileana was monitoring Amy's cheating website account and her phone text messages via one of the two cloned phones of Amy's we had.
After class mid-week Ileana gave me a rundown on Amy's activities.
"She is still in the chat rooms every night, but not having as much fun as before."
I gestured to Ileana with a "give it up" motion.
"Well Bill, I have been deleting most of the request she gets, only letting thru the real wacko's and creeps. I also signed up as a male several times with different ISPs. I have been sending Amy requests about liking her 'size' and looking for 'extra-large ladies'."
I shook my head. "You do play dirty Ileana."
"No more dirty than what that cheater Amy is doing to you." Ileana huffed, as we headed off to class.
That Friday night at work, I got a call from Ileana.
"Bill just thought you would want to know your 'loving' wife arranged for a date tonight."
"That little sneak!" I swore into the phone. "I want to ring her neck!"
"No worries Bill, I took care of it. I sent one of the Drag Queens from the campus chapter of the Gay Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered society to meet Amy's 'Date'."
I almost choked as I laughed into the phone. "You sent a drag queen in place of Amy? That is fucking hilarious!"
Ileana was laughing also. "Not just any drag queen either. A six foot, overweight, drag queen. I think he still had his five o'clock shadow when he showed up and claimed to be Amy."
Tears were coming from my eyes as I tried to stifle my mirth. "Jesus Christ, how did Amy's 'date' react? The dumb bastard must have been in a state of shock."
"You would think so," replied Ileana. "But that is where I think things kinda backfired. Amy's date ended up going home with the drag queen. He just texted me. Seems like they are both having a good time."
"Well, at least someone is happy," I said. "My God, what kind of crazy kooks are on that website anyway."
"That slut of yours Amy, for one," Ileana came back with.
I winced. "Touché'. Speaking of the slut, what happened to Amy?"
"Amy showed up fashionably late. But the two lovebirds had left by then. She hung around for about an hour, texting furiously, which I blocked. I guess Amy finally figured she been stood up and left."
"Could not have happened to a better person," I said, than noticing one of my crew gesturing at me, I made my good byes and hung up.
The second week, I was getting some sleep for the night shift, when I woke up with a naked Amy atop me. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was early evening, I had about two hours to go before I got up for my night shift.
Amy and I had not had sex in over a week, the longest ever for us. She must have been extremely horny as Amy knew how little sleep I got. Amy was always so quiet and went out of her way to make sure nothing disturbed my slumber.
"I am sorry to wake you Bill," Amy said in between kisses, as she lay on my chest. "It's just I have missed you and I being together so much."
With that she reached down for me.
"Um Amy," I said. "Can we try another position? You are crushing me a little bit, making it hard to breathe."
Amy froze in her position astraddle me, her face became a red mask of fury. She rolled off me, jumping off the bed.
"Use your own God Damn hand!" Amy said stomping off. "Fuck you!"
"Apparently not." I thought as I rolled over and tried to get in a few more hours of sleep.
Later that same week, Ileana showed up at my door with a tiny, much older lady, who was wearing a vest full of pins and sewing needles, plus scissors, and a tape measure. A pair of reading glasses was perched atop her sharp nose.
Ileana bustled right past me with the women into the house.
"Bill, this is my friend," Ileana began pointing at the older lady. "She is a senior seamstress for the University Theatre. She has agreed to help us."
Ileana turned toward the lady. "Their clothes are in the bedroom closet, first room down the hall to your right."
Once the older woman was past us, and out of earshot, Ileana said to me, "Her only son committed suicide after his wife cheated on him, than left him with nothing in the divorce."
I was still confused. "What does that have to do with..."
Ileana just waved at me as she walked toward the bedroom.
I was astonished when we entered my doorway. Amy's clothes were spread out on the bed. In a speed I did not think possible from a human, the older lady was snipping, cutting and sewing. She was whipping different types of threads and materials around in a blur.
We watched for a while, than Ileana explained what was going on.
"On some of your wife's clothes, she is just snipping a few threads off the buttons. They will pop off about halfway through the day. Other buttons she is moving in, to make it seem like the outfit is fitting tighter. On clothes with only zippers she is tightening up the darts to make the fit smaller."
"Will this work?" I questioned, while the human sewing machine worked at a blurring pace.
Ileana just smiled at me.
The next day, Amy woke me up as soon as she got home. She was in tears.
"Bill, it was awful! Just awful!" Amy said, burying her head in my shoulder. "I was at a floor meeting in the bakery. Everyone was there. It was my turn to speak, and when I stepped up with the new procedure, my buttons popped off my slacks, and three off my blouse. Everyone started laughing, some of the stupid men started making oinking sounds."
Amy wiped her eyes. "The supervisor said I should stop eating all the companies' profits. It was awful."
I patted Amy on the shoulder. "Now Amy, I am sure he was just making a joke. Why do you not just wear something else? You have a closet full of clothes."
This made Amy wail more. "I am too fat for my clothes, nothing fits anymore."
"So what Amy, just go pick out a new wardrobe."
This again was not the answer Amy wanted to hear. She pushed away from me and once more stomped out of the room.
Was I being an ass? Did I mention Amy was still going into the chat rooms, or had thrice more set up dates during this time?
Fortunately for me, Amy's dates had all been thwarted by the appearance of Ileana's drag queen friends from the University GLBT group. Unlike the first time, all of Amy's other dates had run like hell when the drag queens showed up and introduced themselves as Amy. Some of the men left skid marks.
The kicker came around the end of the third week on Thursday. Ileana introduced me to a guy. He was stunningly handsome. I mean movie star good looking. Over six foot tall, blond hair, perfect white teeth, with a square jaw and a broad shouldered physique you knew contained a set of six pack abs. Damn guy should have been on posters in men's clothing stores for active wear.
As we shook hands, Ileana made the introductions. "He is from the University Acting troupe, he is going to be Amy's date tonight."
I pulled my hand away from his and stared at Ileana.
"Don't worry Bill" Ileana said swatting my shoulder. "He is also VP of the Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgendered group."
I gave a sigh of relief. "Thank God," I said as I looked up at this 6 foot plus Nordic 'God'. "Hell, if I were not straight, I'd sleep with him."
The 'God' gave me a smile, then in a deep baritone husky voice that probably got every heterosexual females panties moist, he declared, "Sorry I do not sleep with married guys."
Ileana laughed at both of us. "OK, break up this love feast. Bill, I sent Amy his head shots to lure her in. I have also been chatting on line with Amy the past few days as him." Ileana jerked her thumb toward the 'God'. "They are going to meet tonight, I'll send you the audio file."
The audio file from that night was brutal. Amy kept trying to get him out into the parking lot, men's restroom, coat closet, anywhere for sex, offering him every hole she had.
The 'God' kept telling Amy he was not into 'big' women.
I was embarrassed for Amy, as she protested she was not overweight. She was begging him to let her suck him off under the table right there to see what he would be missing.
It climaxed with 'the God' telling Amy he was not a 'chubby chaser'. However, if she ever dropped some pounds to give him a call, and she might want to start now by not putting so much cream in her coffee and laying off the bread sticks.
The audio file ended with a sobbing Amy rushing from the table.
I listened to the audio twice before a problem at one of the loading bays took up the rest of the shift.
It was Friday afternoon at the library before I got a chance to talk with Ileana.
"How was Amy this morning?" Ileana asked as we sat in a study room.
"She looked awful," I replied. "Amy's eyes were all red, like she had been crying all night. She wanted us to go to her mother's this weekend, but we have that Psych field trip at the zoo tomorrow. It pisses me off because I think she is just going up to her Moms to find a new group of playmates to fuck."
Ileana pulled out her clone of Amy's phone. "I don't think so Bill. I was going over Amy's calls and texts waiting for you. They are all to her Mom's number. Judging from the texts, her Mom has a whole weekend lined up of baking and shopping. Real Mother-Daughter bonding time."
I gave a derisive snort of disbelief.
Ileana shook her head. "Amy is licking her wounds after last night. We all want to go home to 'Mommy' when things get tough."
I waved my hand. "Okay, let's forget about her and get some ideas on this English comp paper. What is the topic we were given to dissect again?"
Ileana looked down at her smart phone and started writing on the white board. "It is define and dissect this phrase with examples and content. 'Act like a Man of Thinking. Think like a Man of Action.'"
"That's easy," I snorted. "It means don't do squat."
Ileana turned toward me. "OK Yoda, defend your statement."
"Listen Ileana, thinking men don't do shit. So if you 'Act like a man of Thinking', you will be frozen in place. On the other side, if you 'Think like a man of Action', you will be doing just that, thinking and doing less than squat. Ergo the statement means, do not do anything."
"Bill, you could not be more wrong. How on earth do you keep walking around and not bump into walls with your head so far up your ass," Ileana said. "The term 'Think like a Man of Action' requires a plan that is real world, not some pie in the sky bullshit. The second part 'Act like a Man of Thinking', means not going in guns blazing without a plan. A correlation can be made with the old saying 'If you fail to plan, you plan to fail."
I shook my head and disagreed, so we spent better part of an hour arguing and going back and forth.
Finally Ileana said, "I need a smoke, let's go outside."
"You can't smoke on campus," I stated, following Ileana to a fire door exit in the back of the library.
"I survived a mortar round attack. I don't think a cigarette is going to kill me. Come on I know this fire door alarm doesn't work, sensors been shot since the beginning of last semester."
Exiting the fire door, we were standing outside the back of the library. Walking, we were sandwiched between a dumpster for cardboard and the huge noisy air handlers. Ileana dug into the massive purse that all women carry, rooting around for her pack of cigarettes. Lighting up, she turned to me as I pantomimed exaggerated motions of waving the smoke away and coughing.
Ileana made a face. "Oh get a life Bill. This is one of the few places on campus that does not have security cameras."
I rolled my eyes before replying. "You do know the whole university is a smoke free zone."
Ileana took a big drag than answered. "What are you gonna do Bill? Report me to the campus tobacco Nazis for giving cancer to trees?"
I was forming my snappy comeback, when suddenly I was startled as "Letterboy" appeared from behind the dumpster, holding a baseball bat over his shoulder.
"Well, if it isn't Lesbo and KY Jelly." Letterboy said swinging the bat in an easy arc. "The Butt Buddy and his Dildo."
Ileana dropped her cigarette to the ground before stepping on the burning butt with her shoe. "Back off dumbshit," she said, hitching her purse up onto her shoulder. "Otherwise, I'm gonna stick that thing up your ass and turn you into a Popsicle."
Letterboy was unfazed as he said, "Where are your rainbow army playmates now Dyke?" He pointed the bat at us. "I have been waiting for this opportunity to get you freaks alone for over a year."
Letterboy then took a step forward, crouching into a coiled batting stance, getting ready to swing.
Reaching back into my years of playground altercations, I pointed behind Letterboy and yelled. "Look over there!" I started waving my hands over my head while wildly shouting, "Over Here! Over Here! HELP HELP!"
Just like the bullies when I was back in grade school, I saw the hesitation in Letterboy's eyes, he turned his head around to see who I was pointing and waving at.
Of course, there was nothing or nobody there. Normally, back on the playground, this would have been the moment at which I would have run away. The vacillation giving me a head start that always allowed me to reach the safety of the nearest schoolyard monitor. However this time running away was not a good option. So instead I let out a primal scream, launching myself at Letterboy, and yelling, "RUN ILEANA! RUN!"
Using all the vast fighting experience I had gained watching hours of "Big Time Wrestling" as a kid, I latched onto Letterboy's back, wrapping my hands around his head, my forearms covering his eyes and locking my legs around Letterboy's chest. I was sure this modified "sleeper hold" would have Letterboy unconscious and out like a dead light bulb in mere seconds.
Now what they do not tell you as a kid when you are watching "Big Time Wrestling", and this is so important I feel it should be in bold letters before each match, is this;
If your opponent has over fifty pounds of muscle and eight inches on you, that after a few moments of surprise, he can easily pull you off his back, and fling you to the ground with minimal effort.
I was lying on the ground with the wind knocked out of me, when I saw Letterboy standing over me with the baseball club raised over his head like Conan the Barbarian. My muscles refused to respond as I was trying to roll away from the coming blow.
Just before the air handler kicked on, obscuring all other sounds, I heard gunshots ring out. Abruptly, Letterboy fell to the ground clutching his thigh. I looked up to see Ileana in a combat stance with an automatic handgun in her grasp. The pistol slide was locked in the open position. She started shaking the firearm, grabbing the slide with her left hand.
The air handler wound down and I heard Letterboy moaning and Ileana shouting, "GODAMN Motherfucking Wop nine! I can't believe this prick jammed on me!"
I rolled over getting onto my hands and knees before saying. "Ileana! What the fuck did you do?"
Letterboy looked up and yelled "THAT BITCH SHOT ME!"
Ileana stopped trying to clear the jammed pistol, and walked toward Letterboy and myself. "No Shit Sherlock, I capped your ass. What kind of dumb ass moron brings a baseball bat to a gunfight?"
She shook the automatic in his face. "You're lucky this piece of shit jammed. I was aiming for your balls, and should've had a dozen more chances to hit my target."
Letterboy looked up. "You cunt! How the fuck am I going to play ball now!"
Ileana tapped the leg Letterboy was holding onto with her foot. "Jesus Christ you big sissy, you want some cheese to go with that whine? Damn round didn't even hit bone. Looks like a through and through. See that scratch has stopped bleeding already."
Letterboy took his hands away from his leg, and saw the blood stain on his pant leg was indeed not growing. This gave me an idea.
Shuffling over to Letterboy, I commanded, "Give me your wallet."
He looked astonished. "You going to rob me? First you shoot me, and now you're going to ROB me!"
"No I am going to save your dumb ass." I said. "If we report this little incident, the least of your worries will be losing your scholarship and getting expelled. You should be more concerned about assault charges and prison time. A nice young white boy like you will make some cellmate a great wife. Let you learn the true meaning of 'Butt Buddy'."
Letterboy pulled out his wallet and threw it to me. "No Dude, NO. Take my wallet, I won't say shit. Really man, let's just forget everything."
I handed the wallet to Ileana, and took away her gun. "Not so simple Pal. You gotta go to the hospital and get that wound looked out so it does not get infected. Hospitals are required to report all gunshots to the police."
Letterboy started whining. "Oh Dude! I am so screwed!"
I tapped his face. "Not if you pay attention and do what I say." I kneeled down in front of Letterboy. "You are going to wait 20 minutes, then dial 911. When the cops show up, you are going to say you were taking a shortcut out of the Library back to the baseball field and got jumped by three guys. Being the tough man you are, you were not going to hand over your money without a fight. In the struggle you got shot."
A visible sign of relief came over Letterboy's face. "Yeah, yeah, that'll work. Thanks man! I won't forget this!"
I got up. "You should forget this, but I'm sure you'll be a big hero," I said dryly. "Now wait twenty minutes. Got it?"
Letterboy just nodded. I saw Ileana had a puzzled look on her face as I grabbed her arm and pulled her away toward the parking lot and my car.
We were driving toward my place. Ileana was furious when I broke the pistol into its smallest components before tossing the pieces in various dumpsters and ponds. Also ramming a rat tail file, from the cars tool kit, down the barrel to scar up the rifling, than marking up the firing pin to eliminate any possibility of ID from the round or shell casing.
I threw the cash from the wallet out the window and tossed the wallet with its credit cards in an alley homeless guys were known to frequent at night.
I would not let Ileana speak on the trip, so she was livid when we finally got into my house.
"What the fuck was that all about?" Ileana yelled. She was all up in my face. "Why are you doing any favors for that high school butt plug? The prick attacked us! Clear fucking self-defense! Jack off should be in lock-up, having his asshole stretched and getting facials."
I gently pushed Ileana away. "Ileana, remember why you told me you came to this state after getting out of the service and physical rehab?"
Ileana was taken aback by my question. "Sure Bill, because this is one of the few states that allow gay marriage. Where I came from, you can legally fuck a horse, but it against the law to even sleep in a bed with someone of the same sex." She pointed her finger at me. "But don't change the damn subject. I want to know..."
"Ileana," I interrupted her. "Those liberal politicians you love so much, which gave you same sex marriage laws, also have some odd views on self-defense."
Ileana gave me a questioning look, so I continued. "In this state, you cannot just use force to defend yourself. You must make all attempts to exit the situation before using any type of violence, including mace, or other self-defense paraphernalia, and certainly not a gun. This is one of the few places that if a bad guy breaks into your home, YOU must flee the premises."
"Bill, that is fucking NUTS! You shoot first, shoot fast, than reload and repeat." Ileana exclaimed. "I'd rather be judged by twelve than carried by six."
I gave her a confused look.
"Jesus Christ," Ileana looked upwards. "You know, as in be judged by twelve jurors, not six guys carrying my casket."
"Ileana, you just might get that chance with twelve jurors. Do you have a permit or registration for the gun? Or a license to carry that cannon around"
Ileana shook her head. "I tried. Got rejected twice. They did not even read my application. Just said I had no valid reason."
I nodded. "So Ileana you were carrying around an unlicensed, illegal firearm."
I held up my hand to stop her. "Listen, you never tried to flee the situation, were carrying an illegal, unlicensed firearm around, and shot a guy without giving him any warning. He only had a baseball bat. You would have been looking at getting a bigger sentence then him."
I shook my head. "Even if the DA decided to not charge you, the school has a zero tolerance about firearms on campus. You would be automatically expelled, plus forfeit your government aid, and any other student assistance."
"I can't believe this!" Ileana said, throwing up her hands. "Are you sure about this shit?"
I just grinned. "My late parents were two hippie, dippy, turn the other cheek, Gandhi, pacifist, violence never solved anything type of people. Plus, they were both community action attorneys who helped write the state's laws on this issue. Hell, we never had any money because they were always fighting windmills, or at a protest somewhere trying to save the world."
"So what do we do now Bill?"
I pushed Ileana toward the bedroom. "You are going to take a shower to get any gunpowder residue off you. Than I am going to wash your clothes with ammonia to also get rid of any residue."
Ileana did not even blush as she stripped. Ileana was tall but had the build of a twelve year old boy. The only difference being the artificial leg. I do have to admit the prosthesis was interesting.
Suddenly, I felt ashamed of myself for the little pity party I have been having concerning Amy and I's tribulations. Here Ileana had endured much more trauma, comparing our two circumstances was like the difference between an insect bite and ... well an amputation. Yet it was Ileana who was helping me, I was supposed to be a grown man, not the world's biggest crybaby. She had been right in her assessment of the phrase 'Think like a Man of Action, Act like a Man of Thinking.' I was thinking like a crybaby and acting like a spoiled child, not a man.
"Bill, are you staring at my ass?"
Ileana words brought me out of my thoughts. "Umm ... ah ... no Ileana. I was looking at your leg."
She tapped the leg with her finger. "Yeah it is a pretty impressive piece of hardware. Microprocessor controlled, gyro stabilized, with pressurized sensor feedback, and a rechargeable long life battery. I am glad the government picked up the tab. This bad boy cost more than a new Lexus."
"They gave you a choice? I mean a Lexus has great resale numbers, and top value when you trade it in," I said. "That must have been a tough call to make."
Ileana chuckled as she took off her shirt while walking. "You sure this is not just a ploy to get me naked?"
"Yes Ileana, I arranged for my wife to have affairs, and convinced an overgrown adolescent to attack us, knowing you would shoot him with an illegal firearm. All so I could see you naked. Because God knows, only half of the world's population has the same equipment as you, which I have seen almost every day on another female for the past decade."
Ileana gave a laugh as she reached the bathroom door, stopping to hand me her socks. Than Ileana turned to me. "Bill, that was pretty ballsy of you jumping on that guy like that. Really, really, stupid, but still ballsy. What would you have done if I had not had the gun?"
I had my arms full of her clothes, so I said, "Actually Ileana my first choice was running away."
Ileana gave me an odd look. "You are not exactly the athletic type. You think you could have outrun him?"
As I headed to the laundry room, it was my turn to laugh. "I did not need to outrun him Ileana. I just had to outrun you."
The next morning, I met Ileana at the monkey house of the zoo. After the adrenaline rush of yesterday I was so wiped out that I had called in sick to work for the first time ever.
Today, Ileana and I had our "field experiment" for Psych class. It was "Observation on how stimulus effects the interactions of parental node in an outside environment." We were going to stare at families with small children from close by, and see how the parents reacted. I thought it was creepy to act like some perv, but it was all in the name of science.
Ileana, who was holding the small video camera, turned to me after an hour at the monkey house. "Bill this is not working. Sure, there are lots of families with small kids around, but so are tons of other people. It is too crowded and noisy in here, we are just another couple of faces."
I agreed, so we wandered around the zoo until we found the perfect venue. It was the African Painted dog's exhibit. Also known as the cape hunting dogs. The zoo had almost two dozen of these animals that looked like your average mutt that stood about 3 feet tall with multicolored spotted coats. There was always a small group of young children gathered to watch the antics of the dogs from a wide bridge about 10 feet above the enclosure.
As these multicolored African Painted dogs acted like a bunch of playful puppies, I guess it reminded the small children of their own pets as they pointed and clapped with glee. So we started our "Experiment".
After a while, both Ileana and I knew what to expect when we got close to the families and stared at the children. The reactions fell straight down gender lines. If Ileana did the staring, both mother and father would smile back, displaying their kids like proud parents. When I did the staring, mothers hurriedly corralled their children protectively and hustled them away. All the fathers puffed up like peacocks, most standing defensively in front of their clan. More than a few challenged me aggressively with statements that basically all said "What the FUCK are you looking at dickhead."
Fortunately, Ileana came to my aid, and was able to explain and calm down the more hostile men. After a few hours, we were taking a break eating some snacks from the concession stand while watching the African Painted dog's antics.
"Ileana, I'm done," I said, throwing the wrappings into the wire trash container next to us.
Ileana glanced at her watch. "We still have a few hours left. I think we need at least a dozen more observations to get a good sampling for our presentations."
"No Ileana, I mean I am done with this Amy thing. Remember the topic we have for that English Comp paper."
"Sure." Ileana replied. "Think like a man of Action. Act like a man of thinking."
"Yeah, well, you were right, and I have been doing the opposite of 'Think Like a Man of Action, Act like a Man of Thinking'. I've been wasting all my time thinking about actions against Amy. It is a waste of both our actions and thinking." I looked at Ileana. "I am sorry I got you involved, but now I can see I need to move on with my life. Think about what actions can give me what I want.
Ileana tossed her juice box into the trash can before replying. "No worries Bill, it is your call. A bit of a shame though, I had some real hurt lined up for your wife Amy."
I shook my head. "Remind me never to cross you or any of your friends. So thanks, but you can save your evil plans for world domination."
"That is next semester Bill," Ileana said with a smile before turning serious. "What do you want? What are you going to do?"
I swept my arms toward the nearby small crowd of parents with their children. "That is what I want. A normal family, wife, kids, grandparents, the whole works."
Ileana followed my hand to a young mother about our age, with an older woman, probably the grandmother, trying to hoist up a wriggling toddler up to get a better view of the African Painted dogs.
"Better be careful," Ileana muttered toward the mom/grandparent/child. "Damn kid is going to fall down and get hurt."
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the toddler grabbed onto railing ledge. He pushed himself out of his mother's grasp and pulled himself over the edge. I watched in horror as the child fell down over ten feet into the pit with the wild dogs.
The mother started screaming. Both Ileana and I, along with everyone else, ran to the edge of the railing to see the boy lying in the dirt ten feet below us. The toddler sat up and started crying. The wild dogs originally startled by the boys fall, were now regrouping in a pack.
People started dialing on their cell phones, while others ran off to find a zoo employee.
"Them damn dogs are going to tear that kid apart!" a man next to me said, covering his daughter's eyes.
Ileana started to reach into her purse, than she turned on me. "Goddam it Bill! Now I need that Fucking GUN!"
The dogs were snarling and started advancing on the child, who was standing up with his back to the dogs, reaching up toward the railing and wailing pitifully.
I grabbed the mesh metal trash can and threw it over the railing, aiming for the lead dog. The trash can missed the animals, smashing down in-between the crying toddler and pack.
This scattered the dogs for a minute, but they regrouped, beginning their snarling advance on the little boy again.
"Where the hell are the damn zoo people?" Ileana spat, spinning around and looking past the bridge.
The lead dog was a mere few feet away from the boy now.
"FUCK IT," I thought, hoisting myself onto the railing edge.
Ileana grabbed my pant leg. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR ARE DOING!"
I shook off her grip. "No time to think Ileana. Time for Action."
That said, I vaulting over the railing.
Ileana was swearing like a Drill Sargent as I fell toward the sound of a child's scream and snarling dogs.