Greetings coveted readers: I haven't submitted anything for quite a while. I've just had nothing I wanted to write. Then, the other day, I caught a few lines of a song on the radio. I haven't heard it before, or since, and I cannot seem to recreate the melody in my head. But, the words did make an impression on me. And so, I offer this story for your approval:
We'd been dating about 3 weeks when we were intimate on the 6th date. She was a 23 year old Senior at Colorado State University, majoring in Animal Feed Science, I was a 28 year old grad student, with a BS and MA in Veterinary Medicine and was about to get my Doctorate in that same vocation. I did not have her in any classes, but our fields of interests were similar enough that we were often in the same area of campus many times per week. We inadvertently had met and knew each other for two or three years before we actually dated.
She, the svelte and tall, willow swan, dark haired, blue eyed with straight, white teeth, an air of class and ornery girl machisma. She was a tall 5'10", 140 fit pounds; very perfect 'C' cup breasts with a small round, athletic tight butt that makes men forget their whereabouts as they watch her move about, bend, stoop, walk and pose for her admirers.
She was an easy 3.5 GPA student and never really tried to do any better. Her name is Audrey. Audrey Nichole Neville and she descends from British Royalty. Often I'd playfully call her Annie (Audrey Nichole Neville, initials A.N.N.) as a nickname, even though she didn't like it.
Me, the relatively average looking guy of 6', 175 lbs, Sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. I wasn't, am not, ugly but not super looking either. I am bright, but not brilliant. I had no real athletic talent, but I wasn't out of shape, I had few social skills but I wasn't a wallflower either, just sort of an average type of guy, nothing special.
My GPA was 3.3 and I had to work hard to keep it up that high. But, I was well on my way, almost there; to becoming a veterinarian. Veterinary Science and practicing vets have a reputation for earning a solid living with lots of job security. So, I wasn't exactly a throw away, but, not really the grand prize either.
It seems now that I always kind of knew that Audrey was just stopping off in her life as far as her relationship with me was concerned. It seemed like she knew she could do better than settle for someone like me, but that right guy hadn't quite come along yet, so I was the stand-in for a real boyfriend/fiancé until the perfect one came along. She almost always kept a distance, some sort of protective shield in place. Occasionally after an ardent fucking, she'd let her guard down and gush some wonderful sharing of her life with me. But, it was not often and not for long periods of time when it did happen. She pulled back and stayed back most of the time.
I guess I kind of forgot that little detail along the way and I fell in love with her. Hope springs eternal, doesn't it? Or, is it, "Love is Blind?" I think it is both.
She was mostly good to me, kind and even loving at times. But, she never really made the leap, never committed that last ounce of her heart to me, always holding something in reserve, hoping that her 'Lance-Lancelot' would make his appearance and save her from the dull drudgery of a life with such a common one as I.
As I turned 29, I was to receive a trust fund set up for me when I was born. I'd lost my parents when I was 15. They died tragically on a luxury cruise ship when it lost power and became disabled in the middle of the sea, drifting for days before rescuers were able to respond to their ship's location and tow it to shore for repairs and offloading of the passengers. Fresh water became scarce; frozen and refrigerated food spoiled, raw sewage was running in the ships hallways. My parents caught some infection and died on the ship before they ever made shore. They were on their 20th wedding anniversary celebration and took a cruise as their gift to one another.
I was 15 and they trusted me to stay home alone that two weeks during the summer, with the supervision of neighborhood families and friends looking in on me every day.
My parents weren't wealthy, but they both had jobs, both had income, left their Last wills and testaments, life insurance policies and an estate and had set up a trust for me, contributing what they could to it since I had been born. It matured when I was to turn 29. It was substantial.
The cruise company had paid One million, fifty thousand dollars each for my parent's deaths, as my share, in settlement of a five hundred million dollar class action lawsuit the surviving passengers brought against them. It seems negligence on their part was proven to the satisfaction of the courts and a judgment rendered.
The judge in my case in juvenile court, ruled the money be put in my trust fund, with living expenses and college fees to be doled out to me as needed until I attained that age, under the original terms of the trust as set up by my parents at the time of my birth. Since I had no family, or legal guardian, the judge appointed a lawyer to handle my finances and sent me to a foster home until I reached 18. Regular monthly checks kept my life bearable, because the foster parents did not want to halt the gravy train.
Additionally I had their life insurance proceeds, their savings, and even the house was paid for on their death by insurance. But, I had to move into a foster home until I was at least eighteen.
So, in just a few weeks, I was to receive three million seven hundred thirty three thousand dollars as the fund matured and I became of age to receive its' bounty. Interest, dividends and stock price increases had grown the fund to a substantial fortune, in spite of my cost of living draw and administration costs through the years For a very young man I was about to be quite wealthy.
Money would be no issue, but I never mentioned this trust fund to Audrey. She had no idea of my soon to be wealth. She knew only of my monthly check that it was enough to cover my expenses while in school.
I must have had a protective mechanism that triggered inside me and, because she never committed the last ounce of her heart, I didn't either. Though I was in love and devoted to her, I had dreams of buying her a beautiful home and making a wonderful life together with the money. I just never told her about the trust fund.
We hung out together on the weekends when we had free time and even in the evenings some times during our last year of schooling there in Fort Collins. We got married after 4 months of dating in a private ceremony in the District Judge's office.
There was always plenty to do, skiing was close, lots of bars and restaurants in the college town dotted every corner almost. There were plenty of farms, ranches and feedlots we could visit together to enhance our college majors with some hands-on experiences. We did many things together.
We had a fairly good sex life, in my estimation. Her favorite position, and actually it is a favorite of mine too, is when she'd lay on her right side, I'd spoon up behind her and play with her clit as my cock would nudge her from behind. I could boink around on her rosebud a little and then finally insert my cock into her pussy while playing with her clit. As I pistoned in and out of her, I'd push the top of her pussy so that my cock would be rubbing on her g-spot from inside, all the while rubbing her clit from the outside. She was explosive when we did that. Actually, I was explosive when we did that, too.
We had oral sex a lot too. We both did love to give and receive oral sex. I felt like I was better at it than she was. She'd nearly break my neck or cut off my air supply sometimes when I'd lick her and finger her at the same time to wild orgasms. But, when she gave me oral, she'd never swallow; she always held onto my cock and only took the tip into her mouth. It wasn't the best, but it was ok and I did usually come, just that she'd have a napkin or towel ready to catch my load.
Our sex life was good, I did not complain. We were married but four months, not time to really have anything to complain about yet.
But, Audrey seemed forever slightly perturbed with me. She wasn't ever satisfied with the direction "we" were taking. Actually, it was 'my' direction with which she wasn't satisfied I determined later.
One day we were at a feedlot east of Greeley helping them out with our individual expertise in our respective areas of study. The feedlot had received a load of supposedly 'open' heifers. That means females guaranteed, "not ever to have been with a bull, therefore not pregnant".
At final count, 45 of the animals were pregnant when they were off loaded, and some started delivering their premature calves right there in the feedlot, after the stress of their trip. I was assisting the lot's cowboys and feed truck drivers with the delivery of the calves. The feedlot didn't want the calves but we needed to save the mothers because of the initial investment. We were duty bound to minimize the loss of life because the settlements against the ranch that sent them to the feedlot, would be substantial. But, we had no way to care for the live birthed calves, so they were all stillborn prematures or they did not survive their first night in the harsh environs of the feedlot.
One of the young cows was having a tough time delivering her calf. It looked like she wouldn't be able to get it done, so I decided I had to take the calf by force from her exhausted body.
With bare hands I reached up inside that cow, who'd been in labor for about 30 hours, I got ahold of that calf's back feet(it was a breach birth), then I pulled. I put one foot on her butt, the other on the top of her thigh and pulled with all my might. She shit all over me, and when the calf came out, blood and placenta squirted on me and all over the back end of the cow. I was laying in blood and shit and had it squirted all over me from head to toe.
The calf was dead and would have never delivered, the mother would have died in labor had I not done what I did.
Audrey was in the office at the time of this event when I came into the office to grab a shower and clean up. She saw me, she looked at my shit and blood covered face, hands and clothes. She shook her head in disbelief with disgust. As I walked somberly down the hallway to the men's room and the showers, I heard her comment to the secretary, "I can do better than this."
Audrey left me that following weekend. "This isn't going to work, Bill, I just need to keep looking, see who's out there", she explained to me. "I love you, but I'm not in love with you." "I'm filing for a no fault divorce. You don't owe me and I don't owe you, just let's quit this." That was her words. No tears, no emotion, just resolve.
I was stunned; thought I may have read that in a story somewhere. No matter, she'd said it and it was to me that she was talking. I was alone in life. I did have my millions intact. But, money makes a poor substitute for someone to love, and someone who loves back.
We parted company and went our separate ways. I was broken hearted, but I did not let her see it, or I tried not to let her see it. She's no dummy, so I'm sure she did know how this had hurt me. She just didn't care.
Still, I realized that to try and corral her would never be the answer. If she wasn't happy, she'd never be a good mate and life partner, no matter what my own level of love for her was. It takes two to make a happy marriage, a life together, a partnership. We were but one ... me.
Graduation day came and went; she got a job with Cargill Foods and moved to Wichita. She was going to work in the lab, testing cattle and hog feed additives, looking for ways to put more weight on the critter, while using the same amount of feed, and in the same amount of time. It was a good job, and she had a bright future. But, Wichita? Not so great.
After graduation, I applied to several veterinary clinics around the Front Range and finally accepted a surgery position in a well-known and successful practice around Brighton, concentrating my practice on large animals, like cattle and horses. I performed surgery to save the lives of expensive horses or prized beef and dairy cattle. It was extremely lucrative for me. I would make $80,000 in my first year as a large animal surgeon. With time and experience would come huge income increases, eventually to become three hundred to four hundred thousand dollars per year most likely.
But, I was all alone and lonely. No parents, no brothers or sisters, no aunts or uncles dotted my horizons that I knew of and I just had nobody who I was close to.
I was an eligible bachelor; lots of MILFS and older unmarried women were always sniffing around and trying to land a date. I did go out some, but I had no favorite. I just went out because I sometimes needed something with flesh on it to talk to, other than horses and cows. My sex life was conservative. I could have gotten laid morning, noon and night if I wanted, but I didn't. So, only occasionally did I treat myself to a day and night in bed with one of the cougars that prowl the jungles of our Queen city of the High Plains.
It was in the week between Christmas and New Year's, just 7 months after we'd graduated, and 5 months since our divorce was final, that a knock came on my door late at night, around 11pm. I lived in a condo in Brighton, I just was renting it until I found what I wanted to buy. Brighton is a town of 33,000 Northeast of Denver 20 miles or so on US Highway 85.
I was laying on my couch, kind of zoned out, half asleep and half listening to Letterman. I like to sit around in my jockeys and turn the heat up in the apartment to where I'm comfortable without much on, even in winter. Money for utility bills was no issue.
When I heard the knock, at first I wasn't sure I actually had heard it, or if it might be next door. Then, a little more sharply came a rapping and I stumbled to my feet and went to the door opening it without covering up, standing there in my Jockeys.
There stood this tall, once lovely, creature who looked like she'd been fighting with a sock full of silver dollars. She was beaten and bruised, her right eye swollen shut, her lips, both of them, top and bottom were split and bleeding, she had a patch of hair missing in the top center of her head, it looked to have been pulled out by the roots, bleeding. Her cheeks were bruised and swollen and she just stood there, dry eyed, looking at me.
"Audrey, for cryin' out loud, what is going on? Come in here" I grabbed her upper arm gently, but she winced when I squeezed just a little to urge her inside. It was bruised too.
I was so surprised to see her. She seemed unwilling to talk. She just sat on my couch with a haunted expression. Not crying, nor whimpering nor talking, she just sat there bleeding and suffering.
"Have you been raped? Who did this to you? Audrey, what has happened here? Talk to me, Annie." I said.
She only said these words, "Not raped, boyfriend beat me up. He's stoned and lost it with me." She offered no other words.
I guessed they had come back to Colorado over Christmas and probably had mixed it up some after smoking some weed and drinking too much at one of the many parties.
"I should call the police, this guy needs to go to jail" I said.
"NO, NO POLICE!" she shouted without any other words.
"Ok, no police." I said.
I told her I was going to draw a bath, that I'd be right back. It took me 6 or 7 minutes to start the bath, get out my best shampoo and soap and pick the bathroom up a bit.
I went back to the living room, she had not moved. I helped her very gently into the bathroom, and told her I was going to bathe her in warm water, that I'd be removing her clothes. She did not acknowledge me, nor did she resist.
She just stood there as I removed her shoes and socks, shirt and jeans, then her bra and panties. Her black and blue, lithe and beautiful, but, ugly bruised body was on full display. I did not recognize where I'd once played so contentedly.
I guided her into the large tub and got in with her. I only had my jockeys on, so I was already basically unclothed. I sat behind her, and began pouring water on her hair, then I washed it and rinsed it. It was bloody, where her 'friend' had pulled a fist full of her dark locks from their mooring in her scalp. And, it was sore. The shampoo burned her and she whimpered when soap came into contact with that fresh wound. She had bruises beginning on her back, shoulders and arms down to her butt, but I couldn't see beyond that, because she was sitting. I knew her legs had some bruising, but not as bad as her upper body.
After gently washing her back I got up and pulled her to the back of the tub, then got in and sat in front of her. Her breasts shocked me. There were bites and bruises so bad. How horrid were the marks she had on those lovely firm mounds. Her nipples and areola were bleeding, her belly had bruising and I knew her pudenda was very abused, but was unable to see much with it under water.
I lathered a washcloth again, and gently ran it over her face, washing away blood, sweat, dirt and old tears. There were no fresh tears on Annie's (Audrey) face.
I had her raise her arms and I washed there. She had not shaved and her armpits were quite hirsute. I caressed her upper chest and her breasts with the washcloth and moved over her belly as she lay back with one leg on either side of me as I sat there in the large tub, in front of her.
As I began to soap up the washcloth again, I told her I'd need to do each leg and then her groin. She did not acknowledge, she did not resist, so, I lifted a leg and washed the unshaven hairy leg of my ex-wife and former lover. Then I lifted the other leg and did the same. I lathered the washcloth and looked at her body and face. She was watching me, following me quietly from a distance it seemed, not speaking not reacting not emoting anything in particular that I recognized.
Gently I put my hand under her small ass and raised her body out of the water. I applied the washcloth to her very hairy vagina and began to wash. I washed down to her ass hole and all around the area. There was considerable bruising and she was tender there, I was very gentle.
As we sat there silently in the tub, her bath complete, I drained the water out and began refilling the tub with slightly hotter water, to let her soak and to rinse some of the bloody and dirty soapy water off.
"Vince, do you have any wine?" She asked me, much to my startling.
"Annie, I'm not Vince. This is Bill-remember?" "Look at me, Annie, look at me."
I looked closely into her eyes for the first time this evening and noticed her pupils were unevenly dilated. Concussion.
I shut the water off, pulled the drain plug and ran for the phone. "911, what is your emergency?"
Three days later, I was at the hospital to pick her up. They were releasing her with follow-up instructions.
She did not want her parents to know, and had implored me to just pick her up when she was released and let her convalesce with me for a few days. She'd call her work and arrange to get back from Christmas break a little late.
Yeah, right Annie. I mean, Audrey. Ok.
I took her to DIA and put her on a plane to Wichita a few days later. I had to buy her ticket, get her some clothes and toiletries and two hundred dollars to get home on. She was barely grateful. I wondered if she didn't just expect me to be there for her.