Rodney and Denise

by Matt Moreau

Copyright© 2010 by Matt Moreau

Erotica Sex Story: His wife needs a lot more than her husband has the capacity ot give.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Cheating   Cuckold   Slow   .

"Rod, at first I had no intention of you ever being in the know about all of this. But—frankly—hiding it from you has gotten to be way too much for me," she said.

"Huh? Hiding what, Denise?" I said. I had a bad feeling.

"Well, to put it crassly, I'm a slut, Rodney Harris. I've been one for a long time. I have had many men, and I intend to keep on having many men. Wait please, let me finish, please." I'd started to get up. "That said...

"Rodney, you are the only man in my life for whom I have the slightest emotional attachment. Put another way, I love you, Rodney, and I hope you can deal with this information and be my lifelong love and husband and friend. But—I can't stop." She looked down and waited for me to respond.

"Huh? What? Slut? Me—deal with..." I was near speechless. My stomach was churning and I felt my eyes begin to water. I slowly rose and, unsteadily, begin to move out of the dinette and away from the worst moment of my entire life. I had no idea where I was going. I ended up in front of the front room picture window. I stood there, hands at my sides, my mind a complete blank.

I sensed her behind me. "I know how much I've hurt you just now, my husband. Especially after all of this time. I waited until Jill and Jimmy were out of the house and in college. I wanted to minimize the hurt. But now, looking at it—maybe the truth is that there is no way to minimize it," she said.

"No, no, there isn't," I whispered, more to myself than to her. "No, there isn't."

"I understand," she said. "Rod, I don't have a business dinner tonight, as I told you yesterday. I have a date, and I am going. If—if—if you are still here when I return, I know we will be all right. If not, well, then not I guess." I said nothing. Would I be there when she returned? The entire unadorned truth was I didn't know.

I watched as she readied herself for her date. It was torture. I wondered if she were taking care to make me realize how things would be if I did decide to stay. Our entire married life, nineteen years—lost.

I noticed the clock. It was ten minutes to eight. She was standing beautiful and sensual in the hallway. She looked at me. She had a kind of sad sympathy etched on her features. "I hope you'll be here when I return," she said. There was a certain earnestness in her voice. I said nothing, did nothing, I just watched as she turned and walked out, got in her car, and drove off.

Our conversation earlier on when she'd made her confession, if that's what it was; no, it was an ultimatum; had finally come home to roost in my befuddled brain. That had been at around two in the afternoon. I'd had time to think since then. And think I had.

Divorce? Was it a foregone conclusion? Maybe, maybe not, I wanted a measure of revenge regardless. Nothing too wild-ass; I wasn't going to go to jail for shooting anybody, but I had a plan to at least ruin her night.

I'd gotten lucky, and Denise had gotten careless. Well, why shouldn't she have; she knew me; she knew I wasn't the violent sort. I was a wimp in her eyes, a pussywhipped wimp, and she knew it. Well, anyway it had been true until two o'clock that afternoon.

Like I said, I'd gotten lucky, I'd overheard her phone call to her lover, soon after she'd destroyed me: some guy named Maxwell. It was clear that she was all kinds of sympathetic with my state of mind, but it was also clear that she had no intention of denying my rival his much needed pussy. My eyes had narrowed at that.

They were meeting for dinner at the starlight lodge and had rented a room there: room 314. I'd smiled at that, no, sneered. It's where we had spent our first night together years before, Denise and I. Not the same room, but the same floor. Like the late great Yogi once said, "It was déjà vu all over again."

The kids were still in town and dorming it up at the university twenty-five miles away. I'd called them. Both were twenty-one: yeah, yeah, they were already born when Denise and I married. We'd been living together and hadn't had the money or the balls to have the kind of wedding she wanted while she was pregnant, so we'd waited. Hey, other people have done it.

As I waited for my company in The Hinge, my favorite bar, I thought back to our marriage and the days that followed. We'd been true soulmates, or so I'd thought; I wondered now.

I saw the dynamic duo enter and head for my table; the place was pretty much empty.

"Hi daddy," said Jill.

"Hi dad," said Jimmy.

"Back atcha, both of you," I said. "You guys look good. School agrees with you." I was so proud of the two of them: tall good looking kids. Did I say I was a proud daddy.

"Daaddeee," said Jill, "I've seen that look before. You're up to something." Jimmy nodded agreement.

"Nothing too earth shattering kids, just a surprise for your mother. Are you up for it?' I said.

The yeah-yeahs were enthusiastic. I hated doing what I was about to do, but this one was for me. I was not going to end up the bad guy in this, and that was a dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cincheroonie. I told them that their mother and I were to meet up at the lodge where we had conceived them many years ago and have a fun weekend. I told them that I wanted them to be a part of it, but that their mother was in the dark about my plans. They yea-ed the heck out of the idea; the yeas would soon be turning to oh-my-gods if things worked out the way I figured they would.

It just occurred to me. I haven't described myself, or my adulterous whore of a wife, or our situation. Denise is cute, around five-five and one-twenty-five: brown hair, brown eyes. Me? I'm right at six-one and two-twenty. My brown hair is thinning quite a bit now; well, Whaddya gonna do. Oh, and I bench 315 for reps.

We both work, I'm an electrician, Gemini Electric Inc.; she's a beautician, Curls R Us. I graduated college with a B.A. in English of all things, and promptly went to work as an electrician's apprentice: union scale paid better than teaching elementary school. Denise got her certificate from beauty school and was kind of an expert at coloring hair—mostly of old ladies, so she says. She does pretty good at it moneywise too.

I took my car to the Starlight; the twins followed in theirs. I knew the old hostel only too well. Denise and I had used it for the odd weekend more than once since that first time years before. It held a kind of nostalgic sentimentality for me, and I'd thought for her as well, but I guess not in her case if she was sharing it with one of her studs.

Parking kind of back from the entrance we all exited and walked briskly inside. I waved a smile at the desk clerk, and led the troops to the elevator where I punched in for the third floor. It was almost 9:30. I was sure that the two lovers were well into it by now; that was key to my plans.

Room 314, and in fact all of the rooms at the Starlight were small. Large beds, small bathrooms and the mandatory little writing table; that was it. Once we were inside, the lovers would have no place to hide.

I didn't have a regular key, but the kids thought I did. Actually, I kinda did: I had a size-12 key. I was about to use it. I shushed the kids. They stood aside so I could open the door. They were geared to scream surprise.

I smiled, looked at my children, and drove my work boot through the door like it was made of Styrofoam. The kids were stunned. Inside the room Maxwell was ramming his cock into my very naked wife's butt hole. The kids stared.

The faces of the two fuckers were momentarily frozen in time as we visitors took in the scene.

"Momma!" screamed Jill.

"Mother!" Squeaked a completely at a loss Jimmy.

She saw me and fear and anger at once creased her features.

"Rod, you bastard!" she screamed. "My—our—children!"

"Yes, slut, our babies. Now there will be no doubt who the bad guy is in this, will there," I said. To her credit my whore of a wife began to sob.

"Sorry for messing up your evening," I said. "Uh—no—I take that back. I'm not sorry." I started laughing at the two naked adulterers on the bed. Good 'ole Maxwell was already springing into action trying to get some clothes on. Denise for her part had reached for the wadded up sheet and was trying to cover her nakedness.

Jimmy, being almost as big as me was going after the man. The scuffle was short; Maxwell was prostrate and bleeding profusely from the nose and mouth.

"Jimmy, please, no more," his mother said. "please!" Jimmy was snorting and sneering at his own mother. The look I got was indecipherable.

"You dating pussies now, mom?" was his verbal response to her. She was crying and unable to speak.

Jill moved slowly across the room to her, and took her in her arms. Well hell, I felt kinda sorry for the woman too.

"You did bad, mom," she said, rocking her back and forth.

"Dad, you and Jimmy go. I'll stay here with mom for a little bit and see she gets home," said Jill.

She saw me look at the lover who was still writhing in pain from Jimmy's attack. "It's okay, dad. He won't be getting anymore pussy or causing us any problems," she said.

I grabbed Jimmy and we left. I stopped at the desk downstairs and was met by a couple of uniforms. Evidently we'd been noticed by some of the other guests breaking down the door. I'd been prepared for this. I handed Jimmy my wallet.

"Bail me out in the morning, okay?" I said. He nodded.

Both Jimmy and Jill were waiting for me after I was released. The man he cleaned up the floor with hadn't pressed charges against Jimmy. I wondered if that were the result of Denise's intercession; I was betting it was.

"Thanks, kids," I said. "I am very sorry for putting you through all of that last night. But I..."

"Dad, it's okay," said Jill. "Let's go have lunch. Jimmy and I want some answers and we have some ideas. Okay?" I nodded. They had the helm for the moment.

We took a table at the back of my favorite Denny's. After ordering I proceeded to give them the skinny without any embellishment.

"Mom, actually said all that stuff to you, dad," said Jimmy. I nodded.

"Dad, mom loves you. She's just, well, mixed up. Can you—will you—you know, talk to her?" said Jill. I looked at my daughter with sad eyes. All the daddies of the world know how difficult it is to refuse anything a daughter asks of them.

"I guess, but don't hold out a lot of hope, baby. Your mother is who she is, and she made it more than plain to me how she felt and what she wanted. Hell, she probably won't even want to talk to me," I said.

"She'll talk to you. And, she'll talk to you about the men too. I made sure of that before we even came down to the jail to get you," she said. I looked at this wonder of nature I'd sired. I was so proud of her.

Jimmy, it seemed, had decided to hang around after I was arrested. He did it partly to make sure the women were all right, and partly to see what he could see about this Maxwell fellow.

The lover had come down stairs about fifteen minutes after we'd left him. He looked a lot the worse for wear, but he was ambulatory. Jimmy made an on the spot decision to follow him. He also got the make of car and plate number. The guy must have had some money; the car was a Jag.

Jimmy followed him to an upscale condo complex maybe ten miles from the scene of the crime. He didn't follow him inside, but that would have been pretty much useless in any event.

I stood on the steps and just looked at my house door. I'd come up just in time to see both Jimmy and Jill drive off. I was abandoned to my fate. Well, I was a tough guy. I could always knock her out if she tried to go on at me like she had the day before. I smiled at myself for that, for thinking like that. If it ever did come to blows between us, it would be her having the last laugh; I was well aware that I could never hit a woman; it wasn't in me.

It was my house, but I knocked. Ten seconds later the door opened. "Rod? Why did you knock?" she said. I stepped inside, but I didn't answer her. I didn't have an answer. After all that had gone down, I didn't feel like the place was mine.

"Rod? Are you all right? Please say something," she said.

"I'm here, Denise. Jill said you wanted to talk to me. But—let me say up front that if you're going to lay it on me like you did yesterday, then we have nothing to say to each other," I said.

She sighed. "Rodney—Rodney—Rodney, I really blew it didn't I. I knew almost as soon as I said what I said yesterday that I had hurt you bad. I said as much at the time if you'll recall. I just didn't realize how strongly you would react to it all. I am so sorry for everything.

"Please, though, are you all right? Are we all right? Please tell me," she said.

I stared at her. Not one word—so far—about her stopping what she was doing. All I was seeing, all I was hearing was a woman who was concerned about herself. Maybe a little concerned about me, but it wasn't coming across that way.

"I'm okay, I guess. You?" I said. I was playing it cool, but it was her that had to say the right things, not me.

She nodded. "I'm okay too. I was worried about you in that awful place. I mean the jail," she said. "I am so sorry." I still waited to hear anything substantial that changed anything; so far I'd heard nothing.

"You really nailed me and Maxwell," she said. She was slowly shaking her head. She looked, well, tired.

"Why am I here, Denise?" I said, finally. "Jill said you had something to say to me. Have you said it? Is there more? What?"

She was wringing her hands. "I'll stop if you want me to," she said. "If it will save our marriage, I'll stop. I mean if you want me to."

I looked at her like she had two heads. "If I want you to?

"Why would I want you to? I mean you love it so much. How could I deny you something that means so much to you?" I said.

"Huh?" she said. "Oh my God! No! I mean, of course I'll stop. I didn't say it right. I wasn't thinking. Okay? Is that good?" she said.

I started laughing. She was just too funny for words. It was so clear to me that she had no intention of stopping. She was gonna keep on fucking the whole damn neighborhood and there was not a damn thing I could do to stop her—nor could the children either if it came to that.

I went over to her, took her in my arms, kissed her and made her sit down. She relaxed. That would be short lived.

"Denise, you and I both know you're not going to stop," she started to interrupt; I held up my hands. "Let me finish," I said.

"Denise, I'm moving out. I'm not ready to divorce you, but I can't live with a woman—my woman—who is going to cuckold me almost on a daily basis and generally humiliate me every chance she gets.

"I love you, likely always will, but live with you? Not a snowball's chance in the place where the devil lives. I have only one request," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"I would ask that you never let any of your fuck buddies come into this house. Consider it neutral territory. You know kinda for me and you and the children, other family members to meet every once in a while. If you can do that, we can remain friends of a sort. You think you can do that?" said.

"Huh?" she said. I just looked at her and waited. "Oh, yes, I guess so. I mean absolutely. But—but—I would give it all up, I mean the men, if you want me to," she said.

"Denise, you can't give them up. They mean more to you than I do or even the children. And, it's okay. I get it. But, not here, is all I ask. Okay?"

"Rodney? Why are you doing this? Something's going on. What is it? You're too calm. Yesterday you almost destroyed me. You did destroy Maxwell. What's going on? Really," she said.

I knew my face darkened. "Denise, yesterday, when you talked to me; you humiliated me to a point that you never want to approach again. Divorce me, fuck around all you want, but never, ever talk to me like that again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

"And I didn't destroy Maxwell, Jimmy beat me to it. I would have, make no mistake," I said. "But, to answer your question, I'm not sure myself what's going on. I should be kicking your ass the hell out and hunting down your lovers to kill them. But for some damn reason, the whole outrageous scene amuses me.

"There is one thing though. I am very serious about this one, Denise. You need to be careful, very careful. Some of these men are not going to take no for an answer; I don't want you hurt. Like I said, I do love you.

"When this whole schmear plays itself out, and the dust settles; I want all of us to still be standing. Denise?"

"Huh?" she said.

"I do worry about you in this. I'm very worried," I said.

"Rodney? Would you stay with me? I need you by me. You make me feel safe," she said.

"Denise, I can't be around you while you're living this way. I mean fucking everything with a third leg. You've got my cell. Call me if you feel threatened. Otherwise, I won't be around much. Once in a great while if the children come down from school, but for now I can't live with my wife out there cuckolding me. I can't just sit around seeing it happen to me. I can't," I said.

We talked for a little while longer. I kissed her goodbye and left.

I spent the next few days doing one of two things, either moving into the shabby little motel room near work, or fighting it out with the twins.

They could not understand why I wasn't staying at the house and fighting for what was mine.

"Jill, for the last time. Your mother has to be ready to give up something she thinks about virtually every minute of the day. I can't compete with that. But, I am hoping that she will be willing to make the right decision soon. If she doesn't, well, we had some good times a couple of great babies," I said.

"Dad, you make me so mad," she said.

"Dad, You should listen to Jill; she's talked to mom. Mom wants you to stay home. She promised us she would stop doing all of that bad stuff. I believe her, dad," said Jimmy.

"And you should have believed her. She was telling the truth. What she wasn't saying was that she wasn't sure she could keep her promise. For me there can't be any half measures.

"Kids, she is living a dirty and treacherous life right now. She doesn't realize how bad it's going to be for her. If and when she does; then, there is a chance that she might change for the better. That's the hope in any event," I said.

The kids and I went at it for more than an hour. They wondered who the other men were that my loving wife had been cuckolding me with. I wondered too, but for the moment I was willing to let that particular question lay dormant; there'd be another day, a day of reckoning perhaps.

Working kept my mind off of the stuff I needed to keep it off of. I knew she'd do her best to reform; I also knew that there was no way she was ready to, not yet. I got my first inkling that I was right from an unusual source.

"Hi Rod," said Blue. Blue was not her name, it was her street name. Blue was a lady of the evening. Her real name was Beverly Kimbro. I only knew it because she was a sometime drinking buddy of mine. A couple of times a month we'd talk; I'd buy the booze, and she'd laugh at my idiot jokes. It was a deal made in heaven for the both of us.

"Hi girl," I said. "Ain't you workin' tonight?" I never pretended that her career choice wasn't the best. I didn't make decisions for other people. What worked for them, well, worked for them. I'd no business telling them what to do. If Blue had asked me to help her, or protect her, I likely would have. But, she hadn't, and she liked her work. I'd never had her, but she'd promised me a freebee if I ever had the urge. Horny as I was fast becoming, I was almost at that point, but not yet.

"No, I've got a cold, and I just don't feel up to anything other than kicking back. So, here I am. With a handsome man to buy me drinks," she said. She looked tired too, but, she'd just said she was under the weather.

"Jimmy, set the lady up. Her money's no good while I'm here tonight," I said, perhaps a little too grandly. Her bourbon and water was already poured; Jimmy knew the song. "How yuh doin', Blue, been a little while."

"Okay, Makin' a livin'; you know how it is. I keep hopin' some millionaire will like me enough to make an honest woman outta me, but so far all I got is a drinkin' buddy who appreciates my conversation," she said, laughing at me.

"Yeah, well, he does that," I said.

We talked for a while and then she went pensive on me. I let it be as long as I could, but eventually, I had to ask. "Okay, Blue, I know you. Something's up. Give."

She didn't want to, but then again, she did want to.

"I saw your wife, Rodney. She went into a motel with another man. Rod, I know enough about this stuff to write a freakin' book. She's fucking someone else, guy. She's cheatin' on you," she said. I slowly shook my head from side to side.

"I know, Blue. I know," I said. "She said she was trying to quit doin' it to me, but I know she can't, not for any length of time at any rate.

"You know who he is?" I said.

"No, never seen him before. Just some John as far as I could see. They didn't look too lovey dovey. I think it was just a couple of civilians needin' to get their rocks off," she said. I nodded. "Yeah well that's a common disease isn't it?" I said.

"Yes, yes it is," she said. "Wanna get yours off with me? I'm in the mood."

I looked over at her. She did look pretty tonight, I thought. "Sure, why not," I said. "I need it pretty bad, like I said. You'd be perfect for me." She looked askance at me, but she didn't say anything.

Her place was a cheap ass hotel room a few blocks from the Hinge.

She stopped in the parking lot and waited for me to come to her. Having parked, I walked over to where she was waiting. "That's my place there," she said, pointing. "Your wife and her John went into that one," she said, nodding in the direction of a room some three doors from her own.

"It was just the other evening. I was coming home to get ready for a date. There was no mistaking her, Rod. I've met her a number of times with you at the bar. But, Like I said, I don't know who the guy was."

I let her lead me to her door. I was looking forward to the next few hours. I couldn't remember being hornier than I was at that moment.

"How long have I known you, Blue?" I said.

"A long time," she said. "Maybe four or five years. She stopped, looked around, walked a few feet away. Her back was to me. I could tell she was wringing her hands. She definitely had somthing to say to me. I looked at her thinking something was wrong. I moved around in front of her. "Rod, would you do me a favor?" she said.

"Yeah, sure, of course," I said. I was really concerned at her antics, her words.

"Would you—would you—call me Beverly?" I smiled, relief flooded my brain. I nodded.

"Yes, of course, Beverly," I said. She seemed inordinately happy at my attitude.

I needed to get back on track. I really was bursting at the seams with horniness.

"But Beverly, anyway, in that time, in that five years, do you realize—that I have never even shaken hands with you?" I said.

We were standing in the middle of her apartment. Clearly it was her work station, not her real residence. A bed, a chair, a writing table, an old TV, and a bathroom: that was it: just like the starlight. "You live cheap," I quipped.

"Uh huh," she said, looking at me like I was mister dense or something. I had to laugh, and I did.

"Smartass," she said, smiling.

"You gonna take me or not?" she said, hands on her hips—her very shapely hips.

I moved to her and took her in my arms. She melded herself to me and the heat of her almost caused me to cum before we'd even done anything.

We stripped in record time. I beat her by a nanosecond. Naked, we held each other for a moment.

I turned her around and pressed my very turgid six inches into her crack. She moo'ed. My hands explored her B-cups, and I began sucking on her neck. God, she smelled so good, and I was all but consumed with wanting her.

I went to my knees and gripped her thighs with some force. I pulled her to me and kissed her naked mons. I traced her slit with my tongue. I buried my face between her legs as she spread them a little to allow me greater access.

I pushed away from her and turned her around. I was still on my knees. But now, I was just inches away from her buttocks. I kissed each of them and parted their cheeks. I kissed her nether hole. I licked her there and she jerked.

"That tickles," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. I just looked up at her and gripped her thighs even tighter. I licked and kissed and worshipped her behind as though she were a goddess.

I stood. "You're wonderful," I said, as I kissed her. "God how I need you right now."

"Then, take me," she said. "You're the man; take this woman. She won't resist; she knows her place and her fate. Just fucking take me"!

I pushed her back onto the bed and forced her legs apart—as if I'd had to. I probed her pussy with the tip of my penis and felt myself able to gain a small lodgment. I pushed more or less gently and the head was in. I pushed a little harder and I was halfway inside of her. I pulled out a little way and then back into her. Soon I was buried six inches deep into the most wonderful place a man can enter. She wrapped her legs around me and started bucking. She was making sure she could get her rocks off too. I began slamming into her. She stiffened and a wild look came over her face. She grabbed my hair and pulled me down to kiss me and mutter incoherent noises into my ear.

I exploded inside of her. I relaxed for a moment or two and rolled off of her. As I did, I pulled her on top of me.

"Spin around and take me in your mouth Bev. Please. Now"! She did. And as she did, I began sucking on her cum soaked pussy like I had never sucked on a pussy before. Jesus this woman was hot. I cursed myself for not taking her up on her offer of a freebie before.

Hard again, I flipped her over on her belly and again forced her legs wide apart. I pushed at her sopping pussy yet again entering her from behind. This time it took some time before I was able to come; she did, however, manage two small cums before I was able to again unload into her.

We lay together spent and covered in sweat. I was breathing hard; she, less so. She had made my day. Oh yeah, for damn sure.

Blu—Beverly, had made a major difference to my psyche. I no longer felt like the complete and unregenerate loser. But, happy? Not by a country mile. I still thought of little else during the day but my all but lost love, my wife, my Denise.

I had to know more. Didn't I? Well, I would. I absolutely would. It was two days after my rendezvous with Beverly that I decided it was time to play the sleuth.

I was parked outside of, and down the street from, her place of work waiting for her to get off. I had no idea whether or not she would be meeting anybody or whether she might just go home. I hadn't long to wait. It was already 4:55 and she would be getting off in five minutes. At 5:07 she came out.

I watched as she got into her car and drove off down the street. She was not headed for the house. I followed at a distance. She parked in front of a bar and grill on the other side of town. She entered the bar part of the building. I was fairly sure of what I would find if I went inside. I didn't; I waited in the car. I would give her a head start when she came out and follow her.

But, she didn't come out. I waited for two hours. I had to pee, so I just decided to leave. I shook my head from side to side; that was a big assed waste of time. I gave Beverly a call.

I don't know why I hadn't thought of it, but the last time Denise had played—that I knew of—was the night that Blue had seen them in the same motel that she used for business. I had followed her, Denise, the one time, but she had just gone to a bar. But, now it came to me. Maybe she and her boyfriend: Maxwell or whomsoever, might be using the same motel regularly. I knew she wouldn't be going back to the Starlight, not after the little show we'd all put on that one night. The resolution to check out Bev's business address made, I felt good; I had a goal. The usefulness of that little decision was soon realized.

"Yes, they're inside," said Blue. Same room actually. The night manager told me that lately they had had a standing reservation for Wednesday nights. This was Wednesday night.

"How long?" I said.

"Maybe an hour, I guess," she said. "But, Rodney, you told me you expected her to keep it up. I don't know why you're acting so surprised. Really, stalking her. You knew she was going to keep it up. There was never any mystery about that."

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't make any sense. I don't make any sense. It's just—well, it is what it is, that's all," I said. "I guess I just keep wanting to be wrong—in spite of everything."

"You thinking of breaking them up like that other time?" she said.

"No, I'm thinking of fucking you next door to them," I said...

She looked askance at me. "Rod—I'm not into revenge fucks," she said. "If you want me, that's one thing. If you just want to prove to yourself that you can be as big an asshole as she is, then you are barking up the wrong tree. Okay?"

"Yes, well, I do want you for you. And, that you can take to the bank," I said.

Neither of them noticed the man watching them from across the street. A man, but not a happy man.

"Jill, I'm telling you, daddy is dating a whore. I watched him go into her private brothel and he didn't come out in the three hours I waited there," said Jimmy.

"Jim, I hear what you're saying. But—how do you know the woman was a whore? How do you know that they are even doing anything," said Jill.

"Jill, I've been with the woman myself. Her street name is Blue. Jill, she was my first piece of ass. And, for the record she's good at what she does. But, she is not good for our dad! She's a fucking prostitute! Am I getting through to you? Our poor old man is reduced to having pay for it, Jill. It's humiliating.

"Jesus! I guess we have to talk to him. I don't know. Maybe he's not—you know—very good in bed. I mean maybe that's why mom..." said Jill.

"Jill, don't go there. I do not want to involve mom in any of this. We've got enough trouble with her as it is," said Jimmy.

The brother and sister were waiting in the Hinge when the woman came in. She was clearly on the hunt. Well, prostitutes had to make a living didn't they?

"I'll go talk to her first; it's been a couple of years, but I know her. You come over when I signal you, okay?" said Jimmy. Jill nodded.

"Hello, Blue," said Jimmy. The woman looked up and had a strange expression on her face.

"I know you, but I'm afraid I just don't—wait—a year ago. You were the virgin college boy. Right?" she said. "Johnny, I think," she said.

"Close. Two years ago. I'm amazed you remember. I was the virgin, but the name is Jimmy."

The woman smiled. "Well, how have you been? You looking for nookie tonight?"

"Fine, and no, I'm not looking for nookie. I do need to talk to you. My sister and I need to talk to you," he said.

"Sister?" she said. She watched while he signaled for his sister to join them.

"Blue, this is my sister, Jill, Jill Harris," said Jimmy.

"Harris?" Suddenly, the face of the woman darkened. "Oh my god! Your father has to be..."

"Yes, Rodney Harris," said Jill. "And, we have a situation to talk to you about."

"Let me guess. You two don't want your dad fucking me. Is that it?" said Blue.

"Blue, it's nothing against you," said Jimmy. "it's just..."

"I know. Your dad told me about his marital problems. I'm a good listener.

"Look, kids, your dad's a big boy. He's hurting. We talk—well—he talks, like I say, I listen. I love the guy, as I'm sure you do. I haven't added to his hurt. Okay?" she said.

The two siblings looked at each other. "Blue—our dad—well, he's hurting real bad, as you seem to understand," said Jill. "We'd just appreciate it if—well—you know, if you'd kinda stay clear of him for a while. We..."

"Kids, with all due respect, if your dad comes to me, I will not be sending him away. Oh, and if it's any consolation, my body won't be costing him anything. He's not a client. Okay?" The two siblings looked at each other.

"Okay," said Jimmy. "Just please don't hurt him. He's our dad, and we know he's kinda fragile right now." Jill nodded her agreement.

"That I will promise you," said Blue. The trio spoke for some more minutes, and parted.

"Well, Whaddya think?" said Jimmy.

"I don't know. I kinda like her, but she is a prostitute, not our kind of people," said Jill.

"Hey. I was one of her customers at one time. She's all right as far as I'm concerned. My problem is that I really don't wanna see our family broken up," he said.

Jill shrugged, "Well, yeah, there is that," she said. "I sure hope she doesn't hurt him; I mean add to his hurt."

She crawled out to the curb and onto the sidewalk of the shaded street. No one was near, no witnesses. Blood was everywhere: clothes, face, even her feet. The only saving grace was the fact that she was drunk.

The man looked over at her and then sped off in the chartreuse Corvette. The fucking whore, he thought. She had it coming. She'd come onto him, hadn't she. Made him pay for lunch and then wouldn't put out! She'd not pull that shit again, not anytime soon at any rate. Fucking whore!

Denise pulled herself up, first to her knees, then to her feet. She could still walk. Not in a straight line exactly, but she could make progress to the corner; she didn't stumble. The blood in her eyes made seeing iffy. Surely someone would see her, help her.

She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't see anything. She smelled it— hospital antiseptic. She was in the hospital; she was sure of that much. Michael did this to her. He beat her. Michael Westbrook, that was the name of the man from the bar. They'd had lunch? Yes, lunch, and then the drive to the deserted park. Yes, the park in black town. He'd taken her, ruthlessly.

The black lady? Yes, the black lady had called the fire department; she could remember that.

Someone was moving around her. Why couldn't she see? She began to struggle. Her hands! Her hands were bound.

"Be calm," said a voice. "I'm nurse Regan. You're in Mercy General. You had a bad—accident," said the voice. "I will release you if you can calm down."

"Okay," said Denise, in a weak voice. She was starting to cry. "Why can't I see?"

"Please, the doctor will be here momentarily. He will answer your questions," said nurse Regan, as she released the Velcro restraints holding the other woman's arms.

She heard the nurse moving around and apparently arranging things for the doctor.

"Morning," said a man's voice.

"Doctor?" said Denise.

"Dr. Noyes," he said.

"Why can't I see," said Denise. She knew she was sounding desperate.

"Mrs. Harris. You were pretty badly banged up. We have saved your eyes, and you will heal. But—we—you will need to be careful for a while.

"May I ask, is there someone we can call for you? We found your purse and your I.D., but when the police went to the place on your license they'd found you'd moved, and no one knew where or with whom," he said.

She was silent for a moment. "Rodney Harris," she said, "my husband."

The doctor wrote down the info, cautioned her to rest, and promised to return.

She sure looked peaceful, as I sat beside her bed and watched her breasts slowly rise and fall with her breathing. The intravenous sedative would have her out for hours. But, I was going nowhere until I could scold her for being so reckless. I might be married to the whore, but clearly my warnings had fallen on deaf ears. Yes, she and I would be talking.

She was so beautiful even with all of the wrappings and tubes.

I'd fallen asleep and when I awoke she was staring at me. Evidently the nurses had come in and removed her eye bandages while I'd slept. Jesus I was tired.

"Hello Rodney," she said, in a what sounded like a little girl's voice.

"Hi, honey girl," I said. I was shaking my head from side to side. "How do you feel?"

"Numb," she said.

"Probably the sedatives after effects," I said. "Denise—who—who was it?" I said.

"Rodney, I really don't..."

"Denise, who the fuck was it. A name," I said.

"Michael Westbrook. Met him at the Hinge," she said. He seemed so nice, Rod. We had lunch. I wasn't feeling too well, and well, he thought I was leading him on, teasing him. You know. He forced me..."

"Okay, that's enough," I said. "I will take care of things. You just get better. Jill was here last night. I think she's coming back this morning. I have to go to work.

"Denise, this is not a good life you're leading. You really have to get it together at some point. I mean it," I said.

"I know. Rodney, I am so sorry, so very sorry. And—and—thank you for coming."

"Like I wouldn't have come. You're still my wife, Denise. You're not acting like it, but you are still regardless," She started to cry. I felt like shit making her.

"Denise, no matter what happens to us, I will always be there for you. But I have to go. You take care," I said. I kissed her on the forehead, turned, and left. I had to get out. I didn't want her to see the growing anger in my eyes or the way my lips were twitching in absolute hate for the scumbag that would do something like this to a woman—any woman.

The Hinge. "Yeah," said, Earl. "He's some rich guy. He comes in here some days. Usually in the daytime. If there's any fluff around he tries to latch onto it and get himself a free nooner. He's tried with Blue a couple of times, but no dice there; she's way to savvy.

"I think he owns some kind of car dealership, but I'm not sure," said Earl.

"It didn't take long to find the asshole. I'd gone to the yellow pages. Denise had said he'd had a brand new Vette, a model that wasn't even on the market yet it was so new. I hit pay dirt on the fourth call. He did own it all right. Now, for a little visit.

The dealership was first class. The dude did have money. That was good; his medical bills were going to be substantial.

After a couple of low key enquires of the help, I was able to locate the very busy executive. He was a big guy, as big as me. Didn't matter, he was going down.

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