The Saga of Bass and Sarah
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2017 by Jedd Clampett

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Love, infidelity, and family

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   NonConsensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Cuckold   Petting  

This can’t be happening. I’d been so careful.

I was standing like a fool in Rath’s kitchen. Bass just walked out. He didn’t say anything. What was I going to do?

I knew I should have stopped seeing Rath. I glanced over at him, “I’m out of here.”

He gave me one of his smug smiles. As I stepped through the laundry room door toward my car, I turned and said, “You better think of something.”

Rath snarled, “Fuck you.”

I pushed the button to open the garage, got in my car and started toward home. I had to think of something. I needed a story; something Bass would believe. I was all over the place. What was he doing at Rath’s? He was supposed to be at work. He couldn’t know anything. He couldn’t have found out, not Bass. He trusted me. No one would’ve told him. Hardly anybody knew. Who knew? Well Nellie ... OK, then there was Vernon but he was married like me. Vernon wouldn’t have told. No, we’d both felt so guilty after ... but then ... I don’t know ... guilty conscience? It couldn’t have been Lawton; we’d only done it once. Like Vernon he’d ... well ... I only think he did the once just because he knew he could.

OK, I made a mistake. I never liked Rath that much anyway. He wasn’t any good either; not like Bass. Bass and I had been married eight years. Bass and me ... just last night we ... Rath wasn’t the first. There weren’t that many; well maybe two, no three more; just the three a time or two at the Visitor Center. Oh why count; none of them meant anything. They were just something; something that happened. It wasn’t like it was fun; just a thing. It was because of ... I’d always been so careful. I never dreamed ... now...

I opened my cell phone. Better call work and tell them I won’t be in. I hit the number. Nellie answered, “Sarah?”

I replied, “Yeah, I won’t be in.”

She answered, “I figured. We all heard it on the radio. Someone was here looking for you. A social worker I think. Bass is in a pretty bad way.”

I was stymied, “What are you talking about?”

Nellie replied, “You haven’t heard? Your mother-in-law ... the accident on the interstate. They say Bass was one of the ones on the scene...”

I was stumped, “What accident. I haven’t heard anything.”

Nellie told me, “Margaret, your mother-in-law was in an accident out on I81. She was killed. I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Bass was one of the paramedics. They say he was the one who found her. Oh Sarah you’ve got to find him. He’s going to really need you today.”

I closed my phone. What have I done? What’s happened to my mom? That’s why Bass ... Oh no. Dad! Bass! I reopened my phone and checked my messages. Shit! Damn! He’d tried to call me, but I’d turned my phone off. He went to get his brother. He went for help. That’s why ... his dad. I had to get to his dad’s! I gunned my engine and took off.

All the way over I prayed. I cried. I tried to make sense of what was happening. I’d done a terrible thing. I’d betrayed my husband, the one man I’d finally found I could love. I’d done the absolute worst thing a wife could do. What was I going to do about this? Oh come on ... it was just ... sex ... it wasn’t like I ... But Bass didn’t ... he didn’t. I had to think of something. OK. I knew I could count on dad. He’d understand. He’d listen. He’d be on my side. The kids; I had the girls. Bass wouldn’t...

I reached Sycamore Street, I pulled up, got out, and went to the front door. No one was there. I was at a complete loss. What was I supposed to do? A neighbor saw me and walked across the street. She was an older lady, a lady I’d come to like very much, an old friend of Margaret’s.

She reached me, “Sarah we’re all so sorry.”

I wasn’t thinking, “Have you seen Bass. Where’s dad?”

The lady looked at me. She was all puzzled, “You don’t know?”

I asked, “Know what?”

“The news”, she said, “the news over the TV. Owen saw it. He had a heart attack. Bass got here right after. It was Bass who ... he called the paramedics. They all left together.”

I asked, “And dad?”

She shrugged, “Dead. Well I think. They had him covered with a...”

“Bass,” I asked, “My husband?”

“They took him too. I overheard one of the paramedics. They said something about shock.”

My hand involuntarily went to my mouth, ‘The hospital. I had to get to the hospital.’ I checked my watch. Elizabeth, morning kindergarten; I had to get to the school. I needed someone to watch my girls. All right, there’s Lydia Abercrombie. I’ll call her. I reopened my cell and tapped in her number. She picked up right away, “Mrs. Abercrombie?”

“Sarah?” I heard her say.

“Mrs. Abercrombie I need your help. My mom, dad, Bass; I need to get...”

“You’ll have to pick them up Sarah. You know the law. But if you pick them up and bring them over I’ll be glad to watch them for you.”

I was on the edge of tears, “Oh thank you Lydia. I’ll get them now.” ‘OK, ‘ I thought, ‘get to school. Get all three girls. Go to Mrs. Abercrombie’s. Then to the hospital; find Bass ... explain.’

So I was on my way to the school. I had to come up with something. I could tell Bass I’d loaned Rath some money. Then he tried to blackmail me. He wouldn’t tell Bass I’d loaned him money if I put out. No, that wouldn’t work. How about I’d borrowed money from him? No Rath was always broke. OK, I felt sorry for him. His wife was having an affair. No that would never work! All right I did feel sorry for him. He’d lost another job. But he hadn’t! Beatrice threatened to leave him; that would work. He was lost and lonely. Bass might believe that. Bass was a softy. He loved me. He’d believe me on that. Now to tell Rath; I clicked open my phone again to call Rath. I rang his cell. No answer. I tried his land line; again no answer. The bastard; he’s gone back to bed. Damn, we had to have matching stories ... if our stories didn’t match?

I’m so nervous. My stomach ... I’m going to throw up. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Come on Sarah ... get it together. Think. Think! Bass loves me. We’re married. Our three girls; he wouldn’t ... no he would never ... not Bass. I’m safe ... he doesn’t know anything ... nothing ... nada. He only knows about Rath. Well I did feel sorry for him! He’s such a loser.

I thought, ‘Bass doesn’t know anything about me ... my past. He met me. We fell in love. We moved. We got married. He doesn’t know ... he believed ... he never checked. He never went back ... he never asked. He doesn’t even know how old I am! Oh Jesus! He can’t find out!’


Across town Rath had watched Sarah drive away. ‘Dumb bitch, ‘ he thought, ‘Bass, what a stupid asshole. If he only knew ... well fuck him, maybe he should know.’ He yawned and stretched, ‘Not now though, time to go back to bed.’

Rath closed the laundry room door and retreated back to his bedroom. He’d rest up a till Beatrice got home. That cunt; she’ll probably wonder if I’ve been missing work. Well fuck her too.


Sarah collected the kids and dropped them at Mrs. Abercrombie’s. Emily wanted to know if everything was all right. Sarah reassured her. She was afraid to say anything without Bass. Now she had to get to the hospital and find her husband, her loving, loyal, faithful ... oh this can’t be happening.

Twenty minutes later Sarah was parked on the emergency lot, and headed for the door. Everyone knew her. Everyone knew her husband. She got to the Triage desk, “Have you seen my husband?”

The nurse at Triage smiled, “He’s back in room 17. He’s lying down right now.” Almost as an afterthought she added, “We’re all sorry Mrs. Ebersole.”

Sarah had almost blocked out thoughts about mom and dad. She blinked back a tear, “Thank you,” she passed through the doors to find her husband.

She found him in room 17. He was lying on his side curled in a fetal position; they’d gotten his clothes off. They were on a chair in the corner. There was blood on them. She wondered if it was Margaret’s. He seemed to be asleep. She crept up beside him, “Bass?”

He rolled over; he didn’t look that focused. He murmured, “Go away.”

I walked to his side, “Bass I’m sorry. Don’t be angry. We can talk later. Right now there’s mom and dad. Think of the girls.”

He rolled back, “Help me up. Get me my clothes.”

I tried to push him back down, “No honey. You need...”

He pushed me away, “Funeral home. Arrangements; get me my clothes.”

I tried to keep him in bed, “No I’ll...”

He pushed back again, harder. He was shaking like he was cold. He said, “No, get my clothes. Go start the car.”

I backed off. I found and handed him his clothes, “Mrs. Abercrombie has the girls.”

He wouldn’t look at me, “Take me to the station. Then get the girls and go home.”

I volunteered, “I’ll come with you.”

He glared at me, “Did you hear me. Get the girls and go home. Don’t tell them anything. I’ll do that.”

I tried to smile, “OK, I’ll get the girls. We’ll wait for you at home.”

He snarled. I’d never seen him look so vicious, “I don’t care what you do.”

I backed back, “I’ll be out front.”


Bass slipped on his gore smeared clothes. He glanced around the emergency room. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. He walked out past Triage. The nurse got up to stop him, but he was too fast. He’d gotten through and out the door before anyone knew he was up and about. He went straight to his wife’s car, opened the passenger door and said, “Take me home first. Then get the girls.”

Sarah appealingly looked at him, “Bass please. Let me explain. Honey I’m...”

He kept his eyes straight ahead, “Shut the fuck up, and take me home.”

The drive wasn’t that far, but it gave Bass time to try to think through what he needed to do. He was still all at odds. He felt groggy. He figured he’d been at least slightly concussed; that plus all the excitement left him a little dazed. Still things were beginning to come into focus.


As we drove along I tried to think. I just couldn’t get my head wrapped around what I needed to do. I looked over at Sarah. I wondered, ‘Why did she always look so beautiful?’ She sat there, driving, and she looked radiant, tired maybe; sad for sure, but so God damned radiant! Everything about her breathed sexuality. Oh how I hate her. I love her, but I hate her.

I couldn’t let it go. With her I could never hide my feelings. I was so angry! “How could you,” I asked?

She looked over, “Bass I’m...”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t let her, “I hate you! I fucking hate you! You betrayed me! You fucking betrayed me! And with him! My own brother! Don’t lie to me! I know what you did.”

Sarah was crying, “I didn’t ... you weren’t supposed ... I wasn’t ... it ... I can’t.”

I was so God damned upset! I couldn’t handle it, “You know the Shawnee used to live around here. You know what they used to do? If they caught someone they’d tie them to a tree. They’d cut a small hole in their abdomen and then slowly, oh so slowly, pull all their small intestines out and wrap them around the person and the tree.”

“Bass I’m sorry ... I wish...”

I wasn’t finished, not by a mile, “That wouldn’t be good enough for you. You know what else they did. They’d bury a stake in the ground with maybe twelve inches sticking up. Then they’d tie a person’s hands off so they were forced to hunker down over the stake. They’d be too low to stand, but too high to kneel without the stake going in them. Then they’d sit back and wait. They’d wait to see how long it took before their captive started to slowly sink down on the stake. You Sarah I could do that. I could do that to you.”

She just kept crying and driving.

“You know what Sarah,” I said, “even that’s not good enough. You should be burned at the stake. You know how they did that Sarah. You know how they did that? You want to know?”

She kept crying, she whimpered, “No...”

“I’ll tell you Sarah. They’d set up a stake; maybe five six feet high. The captive had his, or her hands in your case, hands tied behind her back. They’d tie a rope around ‘her’ neck. They’d cut off their eyelids so they’d have to see everything they were planning. Then they’d do shit. They’d lay out hot coals, hot faggots on the ground. The captive could move. They could run around and around dodging the things they tossed in front of them. Wouldn’t that be fun Sarah? I could do that. I could do that to you. I’d like to do that.

“Oh Bass. I’m so sorry. Please let me...”

“Explain? Explain Sarah? You want to explain? You want to explain to me how you came to be fucking my brother. Fucking my brother on the morning my mom died? Tell me Sarah what possible explanation could you have?”

She kept crying, “Bass I...”

“Back to the stake Sarah. You know what was a favorite thing? They’d get pine needles. They’d dip them in pitch. Then they’d, one by one, punch the pine needles into the captive’s body. With a woman it was extra fun. Think about all the pine needles they could punch in those big tits of yours. Then when the captive was fully encrusted with pine needles someone would come up with a torch and set ‘her’ on fire. Man they said they really burned. They said they burned and burned. It didn’t kill them though. They’d douse them with water and start all over again.”

She was really bawling, “Bass please I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?’

“Forgive you? Forgive you? Forgive you for what? Fucking my brother. Fucking up his marriage. Oh Sarah you know I’m telling Beatrice. Tell me how I can forgive you for what this will do to our girls. Our girls? Are they even mine?”

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