Hi Folks. Here's the debut of another editor. Let me know what you think about him. His name is Sir Charles5150 and he volunteered for the job. Carholi I've tried to reply to your emails at least twice but you have to send me a valid email address. I also need to warn you guys that it's October so this is the last normal story you're going to get for about a month. The rest of the month will be Halloweeny (is that a word?) SS06
My mind drifted. My thoughts were miles and years away. In my thoughts, I saw a man smiling at me. He had a shaved head and a bushy beard. I think the thing that seemed to be the most magical about the daydream was the amount of love that I felt coming out of him. His eyes were aglow. I remember reading shit like that when I was a girl, but here in the daydream, I finally understood it. The smile on his face and those glowing eyes were his reaction to me. That man loved me more than anything else in the world.
"Loves me," I mumbled absent mindedly.
"I don't know about love but I'm sure fucking the hell out of you," he sneered. The sound of the voice drew me out of my daydream and back to reality. I looked up and saw a big sweaty guy that for the life of me I couldn't remember. He was dripping with sweat as he fucked me. He sawed his dick in and out of me and I panted back in response to his thrusts. I was breathing in and out heavily which was what made him think that he was fucking the shit out of me.
But in reality it was pure physics. A two hundred pound man humping up and down on a hundred and forty pound woman forces the air out of her on every downward thrust. The heavy breathing that made him think he was Casanova was simply my lungs exchanging gases.
"God damn she's into that," said another man. "I'm next." As I looked at the line of men waiting for me and some waiting for other women and vice versa, I had an epiphany.
"Uh ... don't you guys think that the guy who brought her should have a turn," said a slim guy who came up to sit down next to me, and watch the guy screwing me. He pulled out his dick and started rubbing it as he watched. There was no sign of anger on his face. He wasn't jealous in the least. He just wanted his turn. He'd been off screwing some of the other women here, after all that was the point of swinging.
The guy on top of me noticed Bryan next to me and realized that the two of us, Bryan and I were there together. The thought of screwing a man's woman while the guy watched, really turned him on. He started pounding me harder and harder and surprisingly it was all I could do not to yawn. He suddenly slammed his pelvis against mine so hard, I thought he was going to crack my pelvis. I could see myself now showing up in the emergency room for x-rays. Some doctor would come out and tell me that I had a broken pussy.
The thought of it made me laugh. I looked into the guy's cum face and that also made me laugh. Then I looked at Bryan yanking on his dick so hard it could have come off, while another man fucked me. The whole thing was just stupid.
Suddenly, I pushed the man off of me while he was still coming down from his orgasm. "Hey!" he yelled, falling over as I pushed him off of me. "If you want to screw your old man, just say so. But you don't have to knock me down to get to him," he yelled. "I thought the point of joining the club was for variety. You know to add some spice. You guys can fuck each other every night. That's not what we come here for."
He got up and walked away. Somehow, the lesson he was trying to impart was less effective coming from a naked man with a shrunken dick.
Bryan kept yanking away on his dick. He was really going at it until he noticed my face. I couldn't hold it anymore and I burst into tears.
He looked at me and stopped what he was doing. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Can we go?" I asked. He looked at me crazily.
"Oh, Alex," he said as if his best friend had just died. "We haven't been here that long. It's easy for women to hook up; especially when they look like you. It takes the guys longer."
I was really upset and he didn't seem to care at all. "Look Bryan, if you take me home, I'll fuck you. However you want, for as long as you want," I said.
He looked at me as if weighing his choices. I guess the thought of having sex with me was so routine that it no longer registered as a special event. "Alright," he said finally. "I guess I should probably check on Ellie anyway."
A few moments later, we were dressed and on our way out, leaving a bunch of ticked off guys who were hoping to get a piece before I left. I didn't worry because there were plenty of other women in the club they could screw.
"So what's wrong? He asked. "What's with the tears?"
"I don't know," I lied as the tears started to fall again. I got into the passenger side of his truck and he got in on the other side. After turning the key and starting the engine he looked at me with concern on his face.
"We're still gonna fuck, right?" he asked showing me exactly where his concern lay.
We drove to his house as usual. He checked with the nurse who watched his wife two days a week, and told her that she could go home. Mina Harker was an older woman who'd been a nurse for twenty three years. As much as she loved her patients, she loved her family more. So the chance to get home early was great for her.
As we watched her go I looked down at the bed and actually looked at Ellie. For the first time in years I tried to actually see if there was anything left of the beautiful young woman that Bryan, Dale and I knew. Seeing her lying there in her bed was one more log on the fire of emotions that burned in my heart.
"Okay, everything's good," said Bryan. "In a few moments she'll be out and she'll sleep for hours. Sometimes I really can't tell the difference between when she's asleep and when she's not." He took my arm and pulled me towards their guest room.
We walked into the room and I took off my clothes and lay down on the bed. Bryan came over and got on top of me. He started rubbing my sides and moved on to my breasts. I moaned although I didn't really feel anything. I did it just to spur him on so we could get things over with. He believed the reaction, so he kept going. It taught me a lot about Bryan. One of the things I learned was that even after all of the years we'd known each other and the three years that we'd been having sex, I really didn't know him.
I felt like I was seeing him for the first time and I didn't like him. Bryan had his dick out and he pushed it into me. It wouldn't go in so he started pushing harder. Bryan didn't give a fuck about me. The only one he cared even less about was the shell of the woman that he'd married.
It hurt like hell but I deserved it. I felt no pleasure at all in the sex. In a crazy way, I enjoyed the fact that I didn't enjoy it. In my mind I was paying. Bryan humped away at me. He panted and gasped and sawed away at me like the piece of meat that he saw me as. His eyes were tightly closed and he was making his cum face. He looked ridiculous. I didn't move my body at all. I just lay there like a block of wood. He never noticed. Just before he came, his eyes opened up a fraction of a second and he saw me staring at him, unmoving.
"I'm gonna..." he said. I pushed him with all of my might. He fell back and we disengaged but it was too late to stop his seed from shooting out of his rapidly deflating dick.
"What the fuck, Alex?" he yelled in confusion. "I wanted to..."
"I want to go home," I said.
"I'll drive you around the block as soon as we're..." he began.
"We're done already," I said. "And by home, I meant our home town." he just stared at me open mouthed.
"Okay, Alex," he said. "What's this all about?"
"Bryan, I made a mistake," I sobbed. "I made a really big fucking mistake. I don't know why it took me three years to realize it but I don't belong here. I think I've ruined my life."
He just looked at me and I could see the wheels turning inside of his head. "Alex, you're just feeling a little down," he said. "Maybe you're bored. We should probably find a way to spice things up. Remember when we first..."
"Bryan, that's not it at all," I said. "You are totally off base. Apparently even after all of this time you really don't know me. I'm serious. I want to go home. Don't you? Don't you miss it? We don't even have any friends here?"
"Oh Alex," he said. "You're exaggerating again. We have plenty of friends here. What about the place that we just left. We know the people at the club far more intimately than any mere friendships."
"Hah," I scoffed. "That's where you're wrong. Your own words are coming back to haunt you. When we first wanted to join the club your argument was that going there and being with those people was only sex, there were no relationships and no emotional ties."
"You know what I mean," he said.
"No, Bryan, I don't," I told him. "Were you lying then or are you lying now?"
He couldn't think of anything to say, so he remained silent.
"Bryan, don't you miss the people we grew up with. Don't you miss going fishing or playing golf with your friends? I'm talking about real friends. I mean people you've known all of your life not just a bunch of strangers that you get together to have sex with and then go your own way."
"But, they can be more than that," he said. "We just have to..."
"Bryan, they're never going to be more than they are right now. We're all a bunch of selfish people who sneak around doing nasty things with other people like ourselves. And then we sneak back to our lives. And really Bryan, we don't have actual lives. What we did was so God damned stupid, that I can't believe we did it."
"You were in favor of it at the time," he snorted.
"Bryan, I wasn't thinking clearly. I was becoming an empty nester. I know now that what I was going through is really bad for women psychologically. Your children are all gone so you begin to question yourself. You start to wonder what your purpose is and you question your attractiveness. It's almost as bad as when we go through the change. We just don't look at the facts rationally."
"Bryan did you know that the average person who lives to be 70 years old, spends about four months of that total having sex. Oversexed people like you and me might spend five or six months of that seventy years fucking; that's it. That means we spend the other sixty nine years and six months doing other things. But somehow we reversed the importance of it. We actually made that four to six months more important than the other sixty nine pus years. We gave up our lives for something that should only be a small part of it."
"Okay, maybe you're a little bit depressed,"' he said. "You'll get over it. You always do. Besides, we really can't go home. They practically ran us out of town on a rail. Maybe they would have, if we hadn't left before anyone got wind of what we were doing."
"Bryan, it's been three years," I said. "They're over it."
"You mean HE'S over it, don't you?" he asked. "Or at least that's what you're hoping for. That's what this is all about isn't it?"
"Bryan, I'm sorry but..." I began.
"Alex you were always supposed to be mine. You know that," he snapped. "We just made some bad choices. And he's just so God damned selfish. He's the one who's selfish. He just never learned to share. That was all you asked. You just asked to give me, his best friend and yours, one small thing..."
He stopped talking and just glared at me. "He treated you like you were property. He was always trying to stop you from doing things."
"Bryan, he loves me. He didn't want me doing things with guys because he got jealous. I guess he wanted to be the only man in my life," I said.
"Bullshit," said Bryan. "He didn't want you around Della or Elaine either."
"Della and Elaine were the two biggest sluts in town," I said. "Look at how they ended up. Della moved to Vegas and her daughter is ashamed of her. She's an illegal prostitute working the strip. Nevada has ways you can be a legal prostitute but she chooses to risk getting arrested, selling her ass in hotels and casinos. Elaine tried to hook up with the wrong guy at one of those sleazy motels out near the highway and was beaten to death. Her poor husband has never gotten over it, they say. So Dale wanting me to steer clear of those two, kind of makes sense. He just loves me and he wants the best for me.". "I do too," he snapped. "Or have you forgotten that? We met you on the very same day. Both of us wanted you. You just made the wrong decision when you picked him."
"Bryan, it's time to tell the truth," I said. "You keep trying to throw this in my face. But I never picked Dale. I loved both of you. I couldn't actually choose between you. You took the problems away from me when the Miller girls moved into town to go to college. You went after both Ellie and Arlene. The two of them didn't argue over boys and Ellie liked you a lot. She had longer hair than I did. She had bigger tits and she was willing to do anything she had to do to get you. You forgot about me like yesterday's news. Dale only got me by default. I don't know how things between the three of us would have ended up. In a lot of ways I kind of hope that we'd have just been a threesome, like those people in that movie, "Savages." the two of you could have stayed best friends and both of you loved me."
"He never would have gone for that," quipped Bryan dejectedly. "He was the most generous guy I ever knew, but he just didn't know how to share. He'd buy you lunch if you didn't have any money, or he'd give you his, but he wouldn't share it with you."
"I seem to recall him buying or doing a lot of things for you over the years," I said. "Remember when you lost your job? He got you one with the company he worked for. Remember when Ellie threw you out for cheating on her? He let you move in with us and stay with us for months until Ellie took you back, and we never charged you any rent. And how did you, his best friend, repay him? You kept trying to get me to fuck you, every time he wasn't around."
Even as I said the words, I hadn't thought or spoken about those times in over ten years. I guess I'd blocked them from my mind to keep me from thinking badly of Bryan. Maybe I was the truly selfish one of us. Maybe we were all just human. We all had our faults. But I was beginning to see Bryan's far more clearly. I could also see mine.
They say the best way to see things is in the mirror. What's that thing they print on the rearview mirrors in cars? Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.
I could see everything so clearly now and I realize that I've fucked up. Bryan is truly selfish and he also always has to have his own way. He's like a spoiled child. He has to have the best and the biggest piece of cake. I remember when we were kids, if he and Dale both bought toy airplanes, Bryan would always insist that his was the best, but he was reckless. Bryan always flew his plane into a tree or slammed it into the ground. When he destroyed his plane, he always wanted Dale to trade with him or share. He always used the same excuse. You've got lots of planes, I only had one. And it was true. Dale always took care of his things. I don't know why I didn't see that before now. Objects in the mirror, I guess.
"That wasn't just me," said Bryan. "You were throwing a lot of vibes my way, Alex. I was scared and lonely and except for you letting me feel on that big ass to tease me, nothing really happened."
I thought about that too and it dropped me even lower in my depression.
"I don't care, Bryan, I'm going home this weekend with you or without you," I said. He looked at me with an expression I'd never seen on his face before. It was part curiosity and part anger.
"Bryan, it's been three years," I said. "Maybe he's forgiven us. Have you even come close to having a friend like that again? You used to say that he was a better brother to you than your actual brother was. Isn't that worth the risk?"
"Alright, I'll get my niece to watch her aunt for one weekend. Who knows, if things go well, maybe we could start going home once a month or so."
Poor Bryan. I didn't bother telling him that if things went well, I wasn't coming back.
My eyes popped open as sleep was ripped away from me by the most pleasant sensation ever. The ripples of pleasure started in my lower abdominal region, went down my legs until my toes starting twitching and then rocketed up my spinal cord to my brain. The outward signs of it were echoed all over my body. My hands gripped the sheets tight enough to nearly shred them. A smile broke out unbidden on my face. My back arched and my brow started to heat up, as perspiration appeared on it.
"Oh, shit!" I gushed. "Oh, God!" In a matter of seconds I'd gone from unconscious to having my blood boil into sperm that was threatening to shoot out of the end of my dick at nearly the speed of light. I imagined it shooting skyward like a fountain and staining the freshly repainted ceiling of our bedroom.
As the tension ratcheted up, I noticed the outline of the head bobbing up and down under the sheet. I pulled the sheet away and saw an ocean of cascading orange curls undulating with every stroke of the head. At the top of one stroke she paused evilly and looked up at me. She squeezed the head of my straining penis and smiled at me. The expression on her angelic face was as innocent as if she'd been sitting in the first pew at church. But the line of spit that trailed from her smiling lips back to my dick looked anything but innocent.
"You like it when I do this don't cha?" she asked.
"Mmm Hm," I managed to get out. She ran her tongue slowly and lovingly around the head of my dick and then just seemed to inhale it. The roof and sides of her mouth, as well as her cheeks seemed to caress every square inch of my most sensitive flesh. I saw the side of her cheeks hollow in and that was all I could take. Although I know I didn't release very much actual fluid, it felt like she swallowed a gallon of my sperm. Not a drop escaped. It felt like it came up from the soles of my feet. I came so hard, I was expecting the top of her head to fly off, but it didn't. And when I came back down to earth, there she was, stretched out next to me, smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"You really do like that, huh?" she smiled.
"Don't you like it when I do you?" I asked. She smiled nervously and nodded her head.
"I love the way it feels, but I can't understand why the hell you do it," she said. "There is no way I'd put my mouth on some chick's crawdad. And you get your tongue all the way up inside of me. It's almost as if you like smelling me and pulling those hairs out of your teeth."
"Annie, you really don't have much hair down there. I love that fire crotch. And if you had a forest of thick, black, scraggly hair down there, I'd still do it and like doing it because it gives you pleasure, and I L..." I began.
"You what?" she asked. Her smile brightened the room. "What were you about to say?"
I smiled but I stayed silent. I'd come so close to telling her, but she already knew how I felt.
"I'm going to the market," she said. "In case you've forgotten, there's something going on this weekend beside the car show tomorrow."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Like meeting your daughter and son in law for the first time," she said.
"Get serious, Annie," I said. "You've spoken to her on the phone for over a year. She already loves you."
"I still have to clean the house from top to bottom and get most of the food ready," she said. "This is important. I have to get started."
"Now? But what about... ?" I whined. I pointed at my lower abdomen.
"You'll get as much as you want, tonight," she smirked. "If you're good today. This way I know you'll be on your best behavior." I frowned and folded my arms across my chest.
"No pouting," she said smiling. "That's not good behavior and I don't give bad little boys any pussy."
"Bad little boys just take it," I said, grabbing her and throwing her across my lap. I swatted her round little butt a couple of times, rubbing her ass at the end of each stroke. With each stroke her legs opened a bit more. On the last stroke my fingers lingered and grazed her vagina. My fingers came away wet.
Her eyes appeared to have glazed over and she looked at me as if she was expecting me to continue. "You ... you're not going to stop now are you?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said. "We have to go out for our run."
"Not me," she smirked. "Market, then hair dresser."
"But I need you to run with me," I whined.
"No you don't," she said. "I slow you down. You just like watching my ass in those tiny shorts."
"I do love those shorts," I gushed. "But I love what's in them even more." I took another playful swat at her ass.
We had driven nearly the entire night. We had checked into one of the motels on the edge of town. Despite the terrible conditions, I had to admit that I was very excited. In my mind I saw this weekend as a chance to put my family back together. My daughter usually never mentioned her father on the rare occasions that we spoke. But when she'd called me a few days ago, she'd let it slip that he'd be at the town's Labor Day picnic and celebration. Of course he would. Dale always did love the car show they had as part of the festivities.
I remember him staring for hours at those cars when we were younger. Dale was always fascinated by Mustangs. I remember so many things about those years, now. I remember when Dale and Bryan stopped competing for me. Bryan was getting all of the sex he wanted from Ellie. He walked around with a smug look on his face as if he was rubbing it in Dale's face. I kind of expected Dale to go after Ellie's sister, Arlene.
In fact, I asked him about it.
"Why would I do that?" he asked me as if I was making no sense.
"Well, she's pretty. And she has really big tits," I said. He just sat there scratching his head.
"Alex, I've been crazy about you, since before I even knew why I liked girls," he said. "There are lots of girls in the world. But there's only one you. I'm actually glad that Bryan found Ellie. That means that I don't have to share you anymore. You're kind of special, you know?" I could tell that he meant every God damned word of it. I felt even worse, then because I had given or let Bryan take my cherry a few months before that when I turned eighteen. Dale had never pushed me for sex and in that moment I realized why. For Bryan, I had only been a target. I was just sex, but Dale loved me.
It's funny how now in my late forties I realize that I knew more about life and love when I was eighteen than I do after almost half a century of life. What I really hope is that this weekend gives me a chance to get back what I so foolishly gave away.
When I look at my life now, I realize that I don't have one. I don't have even half of what I gave up to get ... nothing. I live in a rented apartment. I work very hard at a job that requires no skill and has no opportunity for any type of advancement. The man in my life is married to someone else and shows his affection for me, by letting other men fuck me in front of him. My daughter barely speaks to me and blames me for the destruction of our family. She looks at me as if I'm toxically stupid. She never gives me any type of information on her father. In fact no one does. When he broke his leg two years ago, I didn't find out about it until he'd recovered.
More than anything else, I knew that I'd been stupid. I also knew that I didn't deserve a chance to make things better. I did not deserve forgiveness. But more than anything else in life, I wanted it. I prayed for it. I hoped for it. I had dreams about my husband forgiving me and I would do anything to make that happen.
When I think about what I wanted my life to be like when I turned fifty, I was nowhere close. I dreamed of sitting on the porch of a cabin in front of a lake, with a man who worshipped me. I saw barbecues and grand kids running around for me to spoil. I saw us traveling and seeing places together, I saw it all. I think the thing that was most important though, the thing I miss the most in my life right now is the love.
A few years ago, there had obviously been something wrong with me. I can see it now, but I didn't then. Call it a midlife crisis. Call it the change or menopause or empty nest syndrome. Call it abject stupidity or any of the other three million names that we use when a woman makes a really stupid decision. My greatest hope is that it's not too late to fix it.
I have nothing to lose by trying though. What's the worst thing that can happen? I can try to get Dale to forgive me and take me back and he can say, no. Then I'll be miserable. But I'm already miserable so how much worse can it be?
Okay, it can be much worse. Right now, I'm miserable but at least I have hope. At least I have something to dream about that makes the misery bearable.
I had left the motel room for two reasons. The first was to find something to eat. I walked down the aisles of a huge new superstore that hadn't been here when I lived in this town. The second reason I'd left the motel room was to get away from Bryan. He was trying to turn this trip back home into just another fuck trip. He used any excuse or any situation to try to inject some newness into a situation that had gone on for far too long.
It's really ironic that I only ended up with Bryan in the first place because I was bored with plain old married sex. I wanted excitement and spice in the bedroom. But after doing and trying almost everything there was to do, I now find myself more bored than ever. In fact I crave the one thing that's missing from all of the sex I got. That would be feeling. Feeling like what I'm doing is more than just letting some asshole who doesn't know or care to know my God damned name, hump me until he cums and I go.
Sometimes, I hate Bryan for conning me into this. Now that it's too late to take back some of the things we said and did, I realize that Bryan did all of this for his own selfish reasons. It's the same old story. He broke his airplane and now he wants Dale's. He blew me off for Ellie until she got sick. Then he suddenly decided that he needed to share me with Dale. The only thing that was different was that this time, Dale said, "no."
That alone should have told me something. Dale isn't like that. He'd normally do anything he could to help anyone, especially Bryan. It took me far too long to realize that Dale loved me too much to ever share me. It took me far too long to realize that like Bryan, I was trying to have my cake and eat it too. I just hoped that enough time had passed that Dale would at least talk to me. And if Dale did, my daughter, Karen, might as well.
I was thrown from my thoughts by the impact. The cart that I'd grabbed when I came into the store, simply because it seemed right, had slammed into another woman's cart.
Her elfin face immediately erupted in a smile. "Sorry, I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going," she said.
"Me neither," I replied.
"I have so much stuff to get, that I don't know where to start," she said.
"I have no idea of what I want," I supplied. She was tinier than I am. She was wearing yoga pants and had the body to make them look good. Her boobs rocketed away from her rib cage and while not overly large, there was enough jiggle there to keep any guy happy. Her round little butt and curvy hips made the yoga pants almost obscene. But the thing that most people probably noticed first about her was the explosion of red curls that fell almost to her waist. Only a slight crinkling around her eyes gave any clue to her possible age. She could have been anywhere from her late twenties to my age and probably appealed to men from both age groups.
"Are you having a special dinner?" she asked.
"What I really want is just to sit down and have a nice conversation with my husband and daughter," I said. "That would be the most special thing possible. I really don't need much to make things special."
"Well you're ahead of me," she said. "I spent years on a man who wasn't worth half of the tears I cried over him. He was always telling me how much he loved me and how hot I was. Then he'd go out and spend his entire paycheck on liquor or get caught fucking some other woman. The smartest thing I ever did was refusing to marry him. But now I live with a man that I'd marry in an instant, but he never mentions it, because he got burned once. Today I get to meet his grown up daughter, who will be comparing everything I do to her sainted mother. I don't stand a chance. The only thing I can do is to try to make things as pleasant as possible and not give her any ammunition to use against me."
"Holy shit, that sucks," I said.
"Tell me about it!" she smiled. "But, I can't say I blame her. It has to be hard as hell seeing your father with another woman. I guess it's only human nature to want to break them up. I just have to keep myself from doing anything stupid enough to give her a reason."
As we walked down the aisles of the store next to each other, we became friends of a sort. We traded ideas about things to cook and the holidays and men, back and forth. When it was time for us to part, I gave her my phone number so she could call me to talk. Since I was seriously considering moving back to town, it might be good to start out with a new friend.
The problems started as we left the store. I noticed Bryan walking towards me. He didn't seem to be interested in me at all though. His eyes were riveted to Anne's rapidly receding form and I recognized the look in them.
"Who was that?" he asked as he reached me.
I wondered if he realized how obvious he was. "Just a new friend," I said cautiously.
"We can always use new friends," he mumbled. "Do you have a way to contact her?"
"Why do you care?" I snapped. "Are you tired of me already?"
"Oh, Alex, don't act like you don't understand the game. That woman is no threat to us. It's only going to be sex."
"Bryan, do you realize how stupid you sound?" I asked. "Remember what you told Dale. You told him that what went on between us was no threat to my marriage, because it was only sex. But Dale didn't take it that way and that's why..."
"And that's why you dragged me back to this tiny assed town to try to get him to forgive us," he snapped. "We didn't do anything wrong. He's the selfish one. He's the one who acted like he owned you and didn't want to share. Hasn't he heard that Lincoln freed the slaves a long time ago? Instead of us crawling back here, he should be crawling to us. We're right. He's wrong."
For the first time I realized that Bryan really didn't have a clue of what was going on. He still viewed things with the morals of a spoiled eight year old.
"But I'll make a deal with you," he smirked. As I looked at his smiling face, I felt a sense of dread. I was sure that he'd want me to do something that I wouldn't be comfortable with.
"You call your new friend and get her to hang out with us," he said. "I'll go and talk to Dale and try to smooth things over. I'll do whatever it takes to get him to sit down and talk with us."
"You go first," I said, not trusting him. "After we talk to Dale, I'll call Anne."
"Deal!" he said loudly. As we headed back to the motel I felt that sense of dread returning. I also felt guilty. I was selling Anne out for a chance to get back with my husband. I know it was wrong, but I'd do it without the slightest hesitation. If I had to chose between hurting a woman who had never done me wrong and even the slightest chance of merely talking to Dale, Anne would lose every time.
"I'll go now," he said. "Stay by the phone. I'll probably call you soon with good news."
As he walked out of the motel room, my feeling of dread dissipated. It was replaced with a feeling of elation and a feeling of anxiety at the same time. It had been three years since I saw him. Did he still look the same? I had picked up three or twenty pounds. Would he still love me the way I love him? Would he be willing to put the past behind us and start again? I was too excited to do anything. If we did talk I'd be willing to swear to him that if he forgave me I'd become the perfect wife for him again. I'd swear on my life that no other man would ever touch me for the rest of my life.
I rushed into the bathroom to bathe and make myself ready. I needed to be as pretty as possible. I wanted Dale to take one look at me and want me back. I took a long bath and thought about all of the good times that we'd had together and the things we'd talked about. We'd been a perfect family, but even then, even before things had blown up when my daughter had left the nest, I'd felt that something was missing. Perhaps what I'd missed was the excitement of having those two guys competing for me. I think, in the back of my mind, I felt kind of cheated by the fact that there had never been any kind of true resolution of the conflict between them. It was so great having two best friends trying to outdo each other to earn my favors. Maybe, when I'd gotten older, I'd wanted to relive that excitement, but it had gone terribly wrong.
I lost track of time sitting there in the tub, thinking about my past. I thought about what I had done wrong and how I'd fix it, if given the chance. I thought about what I wanted out of life and how I wanted my life to be from then on. I realized that although there hadn't been any more competition between the two men, there was already a clear winner and I had picked the wrong man. If given a chance to rectify my mistake, I'd jump on it with both feet. The objects in my mirror seemed to be getting closer and closer. I could almost reach out and touch them.
I was just about to get out of the tub anyway, when my phone rang. I picked up the phone and heard my daughter's voice.
"Hey, Mom," she said. "Are you enjoying your holiday?"
"I'm more nervous than you could ever imagine," I said.
"Me too," she said excitedly.
"Maybe we should get together and talk about it," I said. She laughed at that.
"That's easy to say when you're almost 800 miles away," she laughed. "I'm not sure how I'd feel if you were closer though."
"Karen, I'm in town, Honey," I said excitedly. I swear I heard crickets chirping in the sudden silence over the line.
"Karen ... uh, Karen?" I said. "Are you still there?"
"Mom, why are you here?" she asked. From the sound of her voice, it was as if my visiting was the worst thing in the world. I felt like I was her four hundred pound, snaggle toothed aunt showing up at a beauty pageant, wearing a thong. But then to save me from embarrassment, my call waiting tone chimed in.
"Karen, I have another call," I said. I was amazed at the tension between us.
"Is this Alex Evans?" asked a voice.
"Who wants to know?" I asked.
"My name is Clara Barton. I'm a nurse at the local hospital and we had a man brought in this afternoon. He's in pretty bad shape and wanted us to contact you. His name is Bryan Jones."
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"Are you his wife?" she asked.
"Not exactly," I said "But..."
"Then I can't exactly give you any information," she snapped. "But you should probably get over here. He's going into surgery in a few minutes."
Things couldn't have been better. As usual I got the best end of the deal. I had no idea why my luck never seemed to run out. I guess it's like they say good things happen to good people. But then I have to admit that the saying isn't always true for everyone. If you want to be successful you have to be willing to put yourself out there and ask for what you want. In some cases you have to extend yourself and take what you want. Most people just aren't willing to do the work. Most people don't have the audacity to take the risks. They're simply too afraid to risk offending someone.
Me, on the other hand; not so much. I really couldn't be bothered to even partially give a fuck about offending someone else's delicate sensibilities. Other people's senses of morals, fairness and manners aren't even a blip on my radar. If I had to have one of those moral creeds mine would be the one they had in that Vin Diesel movie, "The Chronicles of Riddick." The Necromongers believe that you keep what you kill, and so do I. It has done me no harm up to this point in my life, so why change.
In fact for most of my life it's kept me happy, fat and sitting pretty. When my best friend, Dale and I used to play with our toys, I learned a lot about people. If I broke mine, I'd simply whine and mope until he either shared his, or gave it to me. Dale, like most people didn't want to see his best friend unhappy, so he gave in every time. Every God damned time. The man must've been related to Mother Theresa. I'm telling the boy had to have been a saint. If it had been me, I'd have let my little ass whine and cry all day. I'd have taken the time to educate me on the dynamics of water balance in the human body. I'd have looked deeply into my little eyes and said, "The more you cry; the less you pee." And that would have been that; but not Dale. After a while it got to the point where my toys were for learning what not to do and Dale's were for sharing.
When we got older, the sharing thing continued. And nowhere was it more obvious than when it came to Alexandra. During high school, the three of us were a trio. We did everything together. We even went to our prom together. I got the first dance with her and Dale got the last one. We all turned 18 a few months after that. From talking to Dale the way that best friends do, I realized that the two of us saw things with Alex differently. Dale had her up on some kind of pedestal, but to me she was just a girl.
Dale got a job between high school and college, so for a lot of that summer, he worked during the day. That threw Alex and me together a lot of the time while Dale was working. As usual, I seized the opportunity and got her cherry. She made me swear not to ever tell Dale, because she didn't want him hurt. Actually, I think she just liked playing the two of us against each other. And she knew that if Dale found out about it, he'd step down. He would have refused to have anything further to do with her, because he'd have thought that the two of us had something special going.