Hi folks, I know a lot of you don't like this kind of story, but I havne't done one in a while, so it felt right. Thanks for all of the e-mails about last week's story and you will be seeing those nuns again and soon. I'd also like to extend a welcome to my new editor Andy. He did a great job at short notice on this one. As a warning those who like their Bitches burned should pobably leave this one alone. SS06
The rumble of my Mustang's engine somehow failed to wake the sleeping child in his car seat strapped to the tiny seat behind me. I had placed his child safety seat on the passenger side so I could see him out of the corner of my eye.
How he slept through that symphonic cacophony of pistons was beyond me. I would probably wake from death to enjoy it. But perhaps for a two year old the ability to fall asleep during that symphony was simply more proof beyond DNA tests and everything else that he was definitely my son.
Then I spot it. All of my senses come alive as, like the warriors of old, my reflexes prepare my body for battle. My ears separate the sound of an engine that isn't very different from mine, even as my eyes scan the traffic ahead.
I see it then, a heavily customized Camaro. I notice the nice red paint that is obviously a custom job. The body kit seems a bit garish to me, but then not everyone likes my custom grills and chin spoiler.
The driver of the Camaro has seen me and slows. He revs his engine and my heart soars. His death will be epic. His shame and disappointment are at hand. I've already seen his demise in my mind's eye as I see vectors and holes in the ebb and flow of traffic.
He has no idea how the six hundred horses under my hood, will destroy his plastic insect-like little car. The smirk on my lips widens as my foot caresses my accelerator, but then ... sanity takes over.
My mind remembers that my son is in the back. My heart's joy plummets and I actually slow to below the speed limit. I look at his black tinted windows and shake my head. He has no idea how lucky he is.
As he moves ahead in traffic, he slows as well. I can sense his disappointment in being denied the battle that never was. I feel it too, but my son's safety is far more important.
Ten minutes later, fresh from the battle that never was, I pulled into a driveway in a nice neighbor hood. The house isn't what it once was. The grass is a bit too long and needs to be edged as well. The hedge needs to be trimmed and there are a few paint chips on the wall of the house.
All of those could be explained away, with the pressure of family life. Sometimes there just isn't enough time in a week to do absolutely everything. What can't be explained away is the lack of joy coming from the house. Many of the houses on the block exude happiness or love, or safety. This one doesn't.
I turn off the engine and before the car goes silent the front door opens. A woman rushes towards the car even as I open the door. The closer she gets the more beautiful she becomes. Thick golden hair falls in waves and curls well past her shoulders. Her breasts are barely contained by the thin t-shirt she wears. Her nipped waist is still, even after giving birth, so tiny that I can get my hands around it. I know this because I've done it so many times.
She smiles as she gets to the car. "How are my boys doing?" she asks.
Even as my face frowns, I'm struck by how beautiful she is.
"He's asleep," I said, trying to keep my voice as free of emotion as possible.
"Okay that's one down," she smiles. "How are you?"
Although every fiber of my being is dying to tell her, I let the question slide. I open the passenger door and pull out the entire car seat. My son doesn't even stir.
"Well at least I can tell my mom that I saw you," she says. "When was the last time you saw her?" I just look at her as I carry my son, car seat and all towards the house.
"Jake, that was a really nice thing you did, yesterday," she says. "You work yourself to the bone all week. No one expected you to go and cut those trees down for her on Saturday and spend all day today taking junior to the zoo. You need some time to have some fun yourself too. Remember all work and no play..."
Again I didn't reply. "So Honey, I was thinking ... I could get my mom to watch her grandson this weekend ... She's dying to you know? And we could live out your greatest dream. We could fly to New Orleans for that Anne Rice Vampire Ball that you always wanted to go to. And you could dress me up any way you want."
"You don't really want to do that," I said quietly. "You'd hate it."
"Jake, you're right," she said. "But I'd do anything for you. You have to know that. And okay, Jake, maybe I have an ulterior motive, but JJ is two years old now and I'm twenty seven..."
"You're getting better at math," I said.
"Very funny Jake, but you know where I'm heading, right?" she said. "JJ needs a brother or sister and I want to have at least one more before I get too old to chase kids around and this could be a good..."
I kind of zoned out as she droned on about what she intended to do to me as soon as we got to the hotel.
I could see the whole thing playing out in my mind. I could be the headless horseman for my costume and she could be the sexiest vampire EVER. Maybe we'd win the costume contest. She did say that I could dress her anyway I wanted. As I looked at her now I could see her nipples tenting the thin material of the t-shirt.
Even then I could remember the way they got harder and stuck out farther and farther under my fingers. I remembered the way she cooed and molded herself to me. Her legs would spread almost of their own volition. And whenever I touched her she was always wet and ready for me.
Sometimes I'm sure that the reason we went wrong was my fault. Perhaps I left her alone too much. Maybe I even loved her too much, or simply trusted her too much. But for seven years everything I did was for her.
From the very first second I saw her, I fell for her ... literally. She was working in a restaurant on the campus of the college I was attending. I took one look at her and stopped what I was doing. I wanted to get closer to her so I took a step towards her and fell over the chair that I had overlooked. I also fell right in front of her and she tripped over me and dropped an entire tray full of plates and food.
She was not a happy camper. Her first action on regaining her equilibrium was to call me every name that she could think of. In my embarrassment I just got up and left the restaurant. Angry, hurt and covered with food, I went back to the house I shared with three other students. I went right into my room and showered. As usual I buried my head in my books. A couple of hours later my best friend Eric burst into my room.
"Get your head out of your ass and come downstairs," he yelled excitedly.
"For what?" I grumbled. "I need to study."
"You study too much," he laughed. "Why the hell are you always studying?"
"Duh, college, remember?" I said over the top of my book.
"See, that's why I bailed on college," she said. I had never heard her voice, but it was as beautiful as the rest of her. I looked up instantly.
"It's all of the studying," she said. "It just bored me to tears." I just sat there listening to her.
"So you accidentally tripped over a chair, huh?" she asked. "Obviously you're better at studying than walking..."
"All I saw was you," I said quietly. She walked towards me and smiled.
"You're so beautiful, that nothing else registered," I continued. "I didn't see chairs or walls or floors or other people. But whether I saw them or not, they were there so I tripped over one."
She laughed then.
"Sorry, I guess you must hear that all the time right?" she nodded.
"Yep, every guy I see wants to take me out for dinner and then take me home and fuck me," she said.
"Sorry," I said. "I need a lot more than that."
"I haven't even offered you that yet," she laughed. "But just out of curiosity, what did you have in mind?"
"I want to give you everything," I said. " ... A home of our own, a family, and my heart just to start. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, if you let me.
"Give me some money," she said. "I got fired today. They don't seem to like waitresses who are constantly spilling the food." I handed her my wallet. She reached in and took a twenty.
"Burgers okay?" she asked.
"Huh?" I asked.
"Are burgers okay for OUR dinner?" she asked.
"Sure!" I gushed, liking the sound of the word "Our."
"Be, right back ... uhm... ?" she said.
"Jacob," I smiled.
"Aubrey," she said smiling back at me.
"Shouldn't I be coming with you?" I asked. She just shook her head.
"You keep studying, Jake," she said. "You need to be smart if you're going to spend the rest of our lives taking care of me, so keep studying."
Two years later we were married and living in our first house. Two years after that, I had started my own company. We manufactured custom prosthetics and orthotics for customers ranging from world class athletes to the average Joe. We also manufactured safety equipment for athletes who wanted to train or compete with minor injuries.
My company was still small enough that everyone knew each other, but profit wise we'd already entertained several offers to buy us out. The problem was that everyone who wanted to buy the company didn't want to keep doing the charity work that we did for kids who'd been injured and couldn't afford their prosthetics.
.... There is more of this story ...