Here is my story.

This new story is based, initially on a letter to Dawn from John T. Miller; her husband, after the divorce:

Dawn:

You fucking cheating cunt. I cannot begin to tell you what you have stolen from me and what disrespect you have given me over the last twenty five years. Twenty five fucking years you have stolen from me. I want them back and since I can't get them back I have to find another way, and I will.

First, my kids will have to change their names so their sperm donors do not show up as related in any way. I have just found out that it is possible to do an adult adoption, and you will be removed from the birth certificate as their mother and your family will be denied any contact with them. You can tell your parents, brothers, sisters and all of your family that the reason they don't have the children or grandchildren in their family any more was because you are a cheating piece of shit. How is that for fun? Good memories, hey?

If you contact the children or allow them to contact you, or any member of your family, the children will be dead to me. I will fire them from my firm, and disinherit them and their children. Further, they will no longer be allowed to meet with their half siblings, the men you fucked with for a quarter of a fucking century, they and you and your family are dead to them. There can be no compromise on this, or any other conditions I put in this letter.

I am happy you are staying in that house because it has such good memories for you. Since it was all you got in the divorce it is good to know that you have your happy memories.

You know what I remember best, when you had me get a vasectomy so I could never have children of my own; so that as the last surviving member of my family my blood line is now dead; thank you for that you cunt. More of your happy memories are they?

Here are the memories that house has for me. Every time I rubbed your back, or massaged your feet, or put oil on your stomach when you were carrying another man's child, it reinforces what a lying cunt piece of garbage you are, and were, and I get ill thinking I ever touched you. You actually fucked and got pregnant by another man within a year of our getting married and you named her after your fuck buddies mother. You are scum. You even knew that they were not mine and who they belonged to, you fucking whore. You had to plan that pretty carefully. Are they more good memories for you?

You even went back and fucked those five pieces of garbage when you were pregnant. Did you have a good laugh at my expense? Did all your whore friends laugh at the expense of their husbands? Did your breeding bulls laugh with you? Are you and they laughing now?

Every time I held your children and loving called them the names of your fuck buddies you were showing me how much you hated me. Did you laugh when I did it? Did you smile at me but all the time you were laughing at me, your stupid husband? Every time I called them those names it was a lie you had me repeat thousands of times. Every time I told them I loved them and called them names joined with your fucking friends, it was a lie you made me repeat. Did it make you feel good knowing I was raising the children of your whoring? Good memories Dawn? All those family pictures are the same lie. You got to tell your whore friends how stupid we all were. Good Memories again? It was a quarter of a century of good times for Dawn and her sluts and bulls.

How you must have planned to make sure that I was not the one to breed you, you had the bulls for that job, I was just a servant working my ass off to give you time to fuck someone else, make that five someone's, away from me. Good Memories?

I destroyed every picture I could find of you and I, and of the children with you too. Every vacation picture every wedding picture, every anniversary picture and card. Everything I could find with your name on it I destroyed before you got the house. But all is not lost, I saved you the ashes. More good memories for your whore ass and your friends; and I also destroyed every picture of you with your family. As they are pictures of dead people I don't want to save those pictures.

Every time you open that foul hole you called a mouth and said we made beautiful children you defiled our marriage and lied to me. Did you have a good laugh? Another good memory you cheating whore?

Every time I lovingly held you and said "I love you," you knew you hated me. You knew you had no respect for me. You knew I was the big joke and in three months you would have a good orgy and laugh about it. You knew that you lied to me every time we held each other close and you pretend it was affection. And now I know it too and it kills me. Twenty five God Damn Years, twenty five years you stole from me. Good times, good memories?

Every time you said you loved me did you gag inside or just laugh at me. Every time you held the children did you laugh at your fool of a husband and think of your breeding bulls with fondness? You went off and fucked them at least four times a year for a god damn quarter of a century, over one hundred fucking orgies where you ate shit off their cocks and drank cum out of the other slut's pussies. You are a foul bitch. Such good times you have to remember.

Every room where you saw me play with another man's child, where I took care of them, where I fed them, every act of changing a diaper, or giving them a midnight feeding, or walking them in the middle of the night when they would not sleep or were sick, every time I held them until they were no longer afraid of the dark, or brought them water when all they wanted was to stay awake, every time I did that was it a good memory of your betrayal? I know that every time I did it and I think about it, it was another bullet in my dying body, another moment of your betrayal. Did you enjoy what you did to me? Did you laugh at me and tell you fuck buddies how stupid I was and what a good job I was doing raising their children? You slut you even stayed over to fuck them a day before our twenty fifth anniversary. I am so glad that anniversary was never celebrated. Good memories for you?

Every sports event I went to when I cheered for them, I was calling their name, was it good thinking I was such a fucking idiot that I did a great job or raising them for someone else? Good memories?

Every dance class and recital, every night I stayed up waiting for them to come home when you went to bed, because I was worried about them, another good memory for you? What a chump you must have thought I was. And I was a chump wasn't I? You were planning your next fuck adventure before you ever got home. I did not even have your exclusive time when you were back with me; you were planning your next fucking orgy for the six of you.

Every night I sat up and did homework with them, was that a lie too? Did you tell your fuck buddies how stupid I was but what a good job I was doing raising their children. Did you have a good laugh then too? I hear you laugh now. I know their voices from your orgy tapes. I can hear them and you laugh at me; ridicule me, insult me, belittle me. More good times and good memories for you, you whore? Did you laugh knowing you and your whore friends were having their husbands call children by names of your fuck buddies? But there was a mistake, one of you whores actually screwed up and actually had one of her husbands kids, with the two others her bulls gave her. Well one out of seven is still pretty good for you assholes.

I cleaned up your vomit when you were sick and washed you when you were too ill to bathe, and I cleaned the shit off the sheets when you could not care for yourself when you got so sick all those times. Where were your fuck buddies then? But that did not matter, four times a year you went out and fucked them for almost a week. You made sure that you extended your stay for an additional two days and got there at least one day and sometimes two days early. That gave you four days all alone with the six of you and the three days of training you had to limit yourself to only your nighttime orgy. How hard on you those three limited sexual days must have been. You did not have sex with me the day before you left and the day after you came home. You wanted to be clean for them, but were too fucked out for me. You are such a sick whore. Let's count, twenty five years, four time a year, one hundred trips, and at least six days of orgies. God Damn Bitch you actually had 600 orgy days and you traded partners every time. You were fucked by all three men, not counting the cunt munching, at least three times a day. That is nine times time six hundred days. Shit you actually cheated on me over 5,400 times by letting them stick their cocks into you. That does not count the times you whores let them do a round Robin where they moved from one hole to another without cuming. Hell if we had fucked once a day for ten years it would only amount to 3,650 times and I know I was not getting it once a fucking day. Good times for you to remember cunt? Somehow I don't think you have suffered enough.

Maybe when we slept together and I thought I was making love to my wife what you were really doing was tossing me a mercy fuck dreaming of fucking and sucking your lesbian cunt lickers and your three male fuck buddies in the same room in an orgy. Knowing that does not make me feel good but they are good times and memories for you!

Was our marriage a bad a joke for you, you fucking whore? I now know it was a nightmare for me. Every moment I think of something that took place I know it was just a quarter of a century of lies; more than half my life a lie. Over five thousand god damn times you cheated on me.

YOU STOLE MORE THAN ONE HALF OF MY LIFE!