Hi Folks. As I warned you last week this story is kind of out there. I'm prepared already for the "But it wasn't her fault," chorus. And the "violence is not the answer," choir as well. Normally my stories tend to be in the middle, neither BTB nor "let her get away with it," stories but this one is on the crazy side. It bears absolutley no resemblance to anything I'd suggest or admit to in real life so let's look at this as kind of a "What if" fantasy. Those of you who don't like violence or BTB and all of her friends stories should probably skip this one. If you choose to read it anyway, you don't get to whine about it, because I did warn you. Thanks as usual to mikothebaby for editing this story with her usual skill and sense of humor. Once again try to remember this is only a story.
"What's the last thing you remember?" asked the voice. The lights in my eyes were so bright that I couldn't see who was barking the questions at me. I had a feeling that something bad had happened though.
Throughout my life, a lot of bad things had happened to me. They always say that God never gives us more than we can handle. The problem is that God thinks we can handle hurricanes, floods, cancer and losing the people we love most.
"I remember so many things," I said.
"Let's just start with this evening," he spat. I heard a touch of a southern accent. And the voice was raspy like a guy who'd spent too many nights nursing scotch while smoking.
"I had a date," I began. "I met her at the restaurant. First dates are weird. You never know what to expect or whether or not there'll be any chemistry. But I wasn't interested in chemistry with this woman. You see I knew that she was a whore just like the rest of them."
"I didn't always feel that way. It took me a long time to realize it. But once I did, it was an epiphany of sorts. I knew I had a calling. That was when I realized that I'd been called by the Lord."
I noticed then even through the haze and glare of the lights that they were looking at each other.
"I started out life as plain old Aidan Williams. I was married to my high school sweetheart and we lived in a nice house. I worked as a CNC set up man for one of the largest automotive after-market parts companies in the state. I guess you can say that I'm average. I'm just not the kind of person who stands out in a crowd. I kind of blend into the background."
"Over the years, I've tried to do things to make myself stand out more. Some of my friends told me that the reason I kept getting passed over for promotions and things like that at work isn't because of my work. The quality of my work and the quantity of it seems to suggest that I should have advance far beyond my station years ago. My personality, or lack of one, is what's holding me back."
"Bill, my friend, told me that I didn't necessarily need to change my personality, I just needed to do or get something that people would remember so they'd remember me. He told me that at several of the manager's meetings when positions came up, they could never remember that I'd be perfect for them. He said that it was mostly because they simply didn't remember me. I was like a chair or any other piece of furniture. I was extremely necessary to have around but no one spent a lot of time thinking about furniture."
"I racked my brain trying to think of something to make myself more memorable. Finally I decided to ask my wife, Wendy, what I could do."
"She just smiled and ran her finger across my arm. Her face and her touch radiated so much love that I could feel it even when we weren't together. Wendy's not a world class beauty. She's just a typical suburban housewife. She's more of a MSOGF than a MILF. She's not a troll but she's not one of those Victoria's Secret models turned moms either. She's short and kind of chunky. She has big boobs and a big butt and she wears glasses. She can look pretty good in a tight black dress, but I suspect that most women can, if given the right motivation."
"I'm not trying to downplay her attractiveness because to me she was the best looking woman, ever. I loved her and I still do. I'm just trying to be honest about what she looked like. Wendy told me to just be myself. She said that I was a nice guy and sooner or later, if I just kept on doing the right things, good things would happen for me."
"Wendy," I said. "In my whole life, only one good thing has ever happened to me."
"What's that?" she asked.
"I got you," I said. Her smile brightened up the room and she came over and hugged me. She rubbed those huge boobs of hers against me and I was ready.
"Calm down cowboy," she said. "We're going to have to wait until later for that. Two other very good things that happened to us aren't asleep yet. We don't want them to hear their mommy grunting and moaning like a slut and begging to be fucked, do we?"
"I shook my head but my dick got even harder when she said that. I went outside and worked on my then current home improvement project. It seems like I'm always doing something around the house. Anyway, as I worked, I thought about what I could do to be more noticeable, maybe not to my family, but to the people at work."
"And it finally hit me. It struck me like lightning. And it was something that I wanted anyway. The Mustang would be perfect for that. Every day, as I made the drive to work, I passed a car dealership. For the past week, I'd noticed a bright shiny yellow Mustang on the lot. It wasn't a brand new car. It was a couple of years old. It was a 2009 GT. I wanted it badly. It was the car of my dreams. Sometimes as I sat there at that red light, I imagined myself driving it."
"Until that day, imagining was as far as it had gotten. I knew every single reason why I couldn't have the car. It was expensive. The car, at north of thirty thousand dollars, though inexpensive for a dream, cost almost twice what we'd paid for our Toyota."
"It was also impractical. There was no way that, my wife and I, plus our two small children were going to fit in that car. Even though our children were barely school aged we just wouldn't all fit. Then there was the cost of gas. Instead of my fuel sipping econo-box with its tiny and very practical four cylinder engine; that beast was powered by a gas guzzling V-8 that until it was tamed, would shred tires as quickly as it drank fuel."
"Somehow just the thought of the car's ungodly shrieking as I smoked the tires and left a trail of blackened road surface behind me at a stop light made me giddy. I imagined myself as I flipped down my sunglasses at the next light and apologized to the driver next to me."
"Sorry, this thing gets away from me sometimes," I said to her with a boyish smile.
"Shit, I'd have to buy just the right sunglasses for that," I thought. "But anyway I couldn't have the car. My insurance costs would also go through the fucking roof. And we live in the snow belt. What the hell would I drive in the winter? Controlling or trying to control all of that horsepower on ice was ludicrous."
"If we were going to do it at all, it would mean that we couldn't trade the Toyota in. We'd have to keep it for winter transportation. With no trade in, that would make the price even steeper and even further outside of my budget. Yep, I knew every reason why I couldn't buy the car. I couldn't think of a single reason that I should."
"But maybe the problem wasn't the car. That Mustang had never done anyone on this planet wrong. Perhaps the problem was with me. Maybe the real reason that I couldn't have the car was my lack of imagination. That, coupled with my lack of balls and my lack of personality, was why I was in the position I was in."
"One good reason for me having the car was the fact that everyone would notice it. Wasn't that my goal here in the first place? And having the car would instantly catapult me from being plain old Aidan that no one remembered, to Aidan with the Mustang. Shit, no one would forget, Mustang Aidan. Everyone would look at me like that woman from the stop light. That bitch knew she wanted me. Or at least she would have if she'd actually existed."
"I could still see her sitting there in her lesser vehicle with her panties so wet she was in danger of drowning. I could smell her pussy from here. But there was no way I'd take her up on what her imaginary eyes were offering. I was a family man. I would use the awesome power of the Mustang for good and..."
"Aidan... ?" the sound of Wendy's voice dragged me back to reality. "Aidan uhm, Honey dinner is ready. Aidan, why'd you hammer ten or twelve nails right there in the same spot?"
"I uh, was lost in my thoughts," I gushed.
"I'll bet I know what you were thinking about," she smirked. "I didn't realize that I was marrying a sex maniac. You're acting like you haven' had any in a while. It's only been since last night Tiger. Are you trying to get me pregnant again?"
"She had an extra little hitch in her giddy up as she sashayed away from me. I decided to put off telling her about the car until I got some hard figures."
"On my way home the next day, I stopped to look at the car. Up close, it was even more awesome. The car was clearly not stock. The thing I'd thought was a hood scoop was the top of the engine sticking through a hole in the hood that was designed for the purpose."
.... There is more of this story ...