Falling for Her
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2010 by Dreamer I Be

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 4 - John Garson was a lady's man. When Ronnie propositioned him, he was happy to come along for the ride. It wasn't until after John met Ronnie's husband that he really FELL for her.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Cheating   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Size   Violence  

"You bastard!" shouted Ronnie to Carl. "You said you wouldn't kill anyone else."

"Slut!" bellowed Carl. "You promised anal only. You're the one who chose to give blowjobs. You knew what would happen."

He turned to his two flunkies. "Throw a blanket around this bitch and take her home," he said as he strode off to the stairs.


Epilogue

The first beams of the rising sun roused me. I never knew I could hurt so badly. After running an inventory of body parts, it seemed as though nothing was broken. I raised my head and found myself on a setback of the building two stories below the roof. Carl and his flunkies had never looked down. My survival was nothing less than a miracle.

One of the windows was unlocked, and I was able to push it open and crawl inside. I used the phone in the office and woke up Rob, my assistant manager. He held his curiosity in check, and drove out with some clothes. He was well aware of my reputation with the ladies, so his best guess was probably close to what happened. After I dressed, I swore Rob to secrecy. He brought me home, and I collapsed in utter mental exhaustion.

I holed up in my house for the next two weeks, not even turning on the light. I lived on only water and the food in the pantry. There were some pretty strange meals toward the end. The only person I spoke to was my lawyer. I tasked him with replacing the contents of my wallet, the credit cards, driver's license, and everything else that had been chucked in the dumpster. He sold my car and prepared to place my house on the market. I needed to leave town.

Painfully for me, he also set up the sale of my beloved clothing store to my assistant manager. I would hold the note, and Rob would pay me out of the profits.

I didn't think Carl would spend too much time looking for me. He would be surprised, of course, that my body wasn't found, but if I was nowhere to be found and everyone said I missing, Carl would lose interest ... I hoped.

With my savings in my pocket and all other assets in the process of liquidation, I pulled out of town in a nondescript used sedan. I chose a medium sized city a thousand miles away and found an apartment in an undistinguished building. Taking a survey of my skills, I created a position for myself in a local charity helping men who were down on their luck gain the personal skills that would allow them to get jobs. That included teaching them to dress for success. I cannot describe the pleasure I still get watching these men regain their pride as they turn their lives around. I moonlight as a personal shopper for the well-to-do, but this is my passion and my calling.

You see, I really did die that night. John Garson, driven businessman, raconteur, incipient alcoholic, is no more. He died when I accepted my death on that rooftop. I go by Jay Garson now. I'm quieter. I still have my sense of humor, but I don't need to be the center of events. One glass of wine is enough for dinner, no nightcaps need apply. I'm content to enjoy life as it comes. I date occasionally, but I'm not looking for one night stands anymore. When I meet a woman, she has to meet a much different set of standards.

I glossed over my description of awakening on the setback that morning. I was in a daze. It took me quite some time to realize that I was alive. It was the pain that finally broke through my stupor. My mind split in two for a while. One small part was rational and knew I had to get out of the building before the workers and staff arrived. That was the part that made the phone call and remembered to ask for clothes. That was the part that knew my survival must be kept secret.

The bulk of my mind was that of a two year old child. It was enchanted to see the dawn with its pinks and yellows, the sky's shift from navy to brilliant azure. The flowering trees were a delight. I even drew joy from the feeling of fresh clothes on my bruised and scratched skin.

James Clavell, in his novel 'Shogun', wrote a wonderful description of what it's like to not die. Clavell's hero begins to commit seppuku, ritual suicide, only to have his action thwarted when his overlord stops the motion of his blade. Clavell describes the feeling of unreality when, expecting death, the hero returns to reality. He got it amazingly near correct.

As to those final few seconds of my former life, I can still recall them in such detail that they seem as if it was an hour. I am sure that I will carry them with me for the rest of my days.

 
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