A Boring Man

by Cantbuymy

Copyright© 2013 by Cantbuymy

Romantic Story: Innocent People Were Hurt

Caution: This Romantic Story contains strong sexual content, including Cheating   Slut Wife   .

Suspend credulity. If this was in your library it would be listed under FICTION!

If you liked Mission Impossible, did it upset you that Tom Cruise was jumping from a moving train to moving helicopter in the Channel Tunnel at speeds of close to one hundred miles an hour? How fast to you think you would have to move to jump from an object moving at 80 miles an hour to another object moving at 80 miles an hour away from you without any distance to get a running start. Or how well do you think a human body would react to being launched at eighty miles an hour with enough speed to catch another moving object moving at the same speed. Can we say "squish" boys and girls?

So don't fucking tell me it is not real, it is as real as I make it in the world I create.

A boring man.

"God Damn fucking bees. Where the hell did they come from? We must have hit a nest! Someone get me a damn fly swatter so I can at least hit a few. Shit I have been stung again. Damn it!"

"Franklin, wake up honey, you are having a bad dream. Wake up baby." Donna said.

I finally woke up. We had been together for almost thirty years and I was always having that damn bee dream. Sometimes it was different because there were sometimes other things too, but always the bees. They had changed over the almost thirty years we were together but they were still there.

"Was it the bees again?" Donna asked with a smile.

"Yes. It was the 'Killer Bees'" I said making us both laugh as we remembered the John Belushi skit from Saturday Night Live.

I got up and took a shower because it always helped after one of the more intense dreams. They came almost nightly, had since the accident I had when I was eighteen and right out of high school. I don't remember the accident but I was in a coma for two years and then one day I woke up and decided to go to college. My body was heavily scarred but healed and my mind was ready to go to work. It was as simple as that for me. I don't know where my family was, I don't think I had one, but that did not matter to me either.

It must have been one hell of an accident because I was broken and scarred up pretty good. You could tell I had a lot of surgery. I sure hope I had a good time before the accident because I sure paid one hell of a price. Whatever it was I did I did not want to do it again. Maybe I would be a little less excitable and a little – make that a lot - more cautious. Boring and quiet can be a good thing.

I wanted to be an accountant. I can't remember ever wanting to be an accounting in high school but now I did. I remembered the name of the school but little else about it. The doctors said it was not unusual. I just wanted to have a nice life, a loving family, and house with a pool and wear brown shorts with black sox and brown loafers. Not really, but you know what I mean. Non-descript is what I wanted and what I was.

"Fuck the damn bees are back. They were thick and I just hated to get stung, we all did. 'Anyone got another fly swatter mine is broken?' 'Hey you got one?' 'Damn you got stung too.' 'Someone toss one of those insect bombs out there and see if that will get them away.' 'Damn, damn, damn, that just pissed them off more than ever.' 'Have all of us gotten stung?' 'Where the hell is the bee keeper?' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop, over and over. 'Shit that has to be the largest fly swatter I have ever seen, listen to that noise. I bet that gets rid of the damn fucking bees.'" The dream went on and on.

"Wake up Franklin, wake up. You are having a bad dream." Donna said.

"Donna they are getting worse all the time and I don't know why. I even mentioned them to the doctor but he says I just have an aversion to bees." I told her.

We had a son John, and two daughters, Paula and Billie. Nothing much of consequence happened to us. Our lives were boring.

We met and married at twenty, well I was twenty. Donna was twenty five when we married. Back in the day there were a number of ways to propose but I guess mine was one of the standards.

"You're what?" was what I said.

Even a moron will know that it was in response to the "I'm pregnant" comment of Donna.

We were married in a little church in the town where I was going to school. Everyone she knew was there and at the reception. It was a low key affair. Like me she had no family to speak of and only her friends were there but it was a very happy event.

When I think about it I never went back to my home town. I had moved to go to college, a small Midwestern college with a town attached to it. Donna grew up there and had all of her friends around. It kept her happy so I was happy. We moved into the same housing tract with her old friends and settled into a life of marital bliss.

So at twenty I was married and still going to school. The year was 1973. I'm not sure how it happened but two years later I had a degree in accounting and computer science. Maybe the records were wrong but I had enough units to get my B.A. and a B.S. in only two years. I never bothered to ask, I just got my degree and left. If they made a mistake that was their problem. Why upset the cart with questions?

Then I started my career as an accountant. Not a glamorous accountant that did all those tax and financial wizardry things and were in the news. No I was a bean counter of sorts. I audited things. I was a C.P.A. I went into a place and counted. I was usually alone and I counted alone. If there were two of us we could agree to a figure even if it was wrong. If there were two of us but we counted at different times then there was never the opportunity to agree and the audit would be accurate. It was boring and I loved it. No one fucked with me and I could move at my own speed.

"Fucking God Damn bees again. Where the hell are they all coming from? Stick up your hand and you can feel them hitting it and hard too. Shit one actually drew blood. Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop, over and over. 'Bee keeper, get your ass over here. Can't you do something about these fucking bees?' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. 'Shit you are noisy. No don't help me, fix the others first. We have all been stung pretty bad. The fucking bees will not stop. We must have run into a nest the size of Arizona. Put some of that stuff on the stings. These must be killer bees.' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. 'What the hell is making that noise?' Is that a bird flapping its wings? Is that were all the noise is coming from? That is one fucking large bird. Is it a pterodactyl? Shit look at that thing. Damn it is shitting all over us. Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. At least it helps keep the bees away. Damn, stung again! What the fuck kind of bird drops hot shit?"

"Franklin, wake up honey. This one must have been really bad. Take a shower and come back to bed." Donna said.

When they were bad I needed a shower I would sweat like crazy, but only during the last part. My scars hurt too. The people in my dreams, I know there were people but they were ghosts, just shadows and odd shapes moving through. They had no faces, no specific shapes, like smoke or a cloud.

Two years after John was born we had Paula. Now Paula was extra special. She was my princess. I loved John but Paula, well she owned me like her mother did. It would be that way right up until she didn't.

I was crazy about the kids and Donna too. The kids I would just go into their room at night and watch them sleep. At times I would pick them up and just hold them.

Playing you ask? My happiest times were playing with them. Helping them learn to walk, to ride a bike. To throw a baseball and play catch.

Buying frilly little dresses for Paula and Billie. Watching them grow and hoping they would have more than I had and a happy life too.

There were neighborhood barbeques on Saturday where we all get together.

Everyone had known everyone else forever. They grew up together and let me into their little group. I liked them all but there was just something that, well we all have those feelings.

Maybe it was that I knocked Donna up and she had to marry me so fast. We had dated a few times and she was a decent enough fuck. I don't really remember about fucking too much before but she seemed to be OK. But after we got married she did not get into it that much. I got some action but there was no experimentation or rousing nights or days of sex. It just did not happen. I just thought that was the way everyone lived when a woman was pregnant and after the first child. It was not like I did not try but she always told me no. So sex was infrequent but I had my children to keep me happy and a calm life.

I would hear the women talking.

"Donna, Franklin must be the most boring man in the world. How do you put up with him?" I heard one ask.

"Ladies, Franklin is a great husband. Yes he is boring but he is the perfect husband. He does not drink or smoke. He does not gamble and brings his check home every week. He never chases women and he loves me and the kids. Franklin is perfect. And there are always ways to keep myself entertained. After all I have all of you. I have some good news! We might be having a new addition to the family." Donna said.

All the women laughed and giggled and kept up the jokes and good cheer. I was pretty happy myself. Within a month it was Billie she was pregnant with. We had a big party and invited all of our friends.

All of the friends had children about the same age and they tended to congregate together in a pretty close knit group. They had all grown up together and now their kids did too. I was the only new one.

Everyone would kid me about being boring and I would just laugh. I did try to stay in shape. I ran, it was boring and I loved running. I tried to get the kids and my wife and her friends involved but they just said no.

Auditing warehouses and products requires some muscle to move things around and count and I got plenty of physical exercise without going to a gym. Take your average warehouse full of thousands of things and then count them all. You begin to understand what I did.

I did have some weights at home and I used them in the basement just to keep in shape some more but that was about it.

Oh there was school and plays. Music lessons, dance lessons, soccer, football, baseball, gymnastics, you name it and the three kids did it. Sometimes all of them and sometimes just one in one sport or thing, but the three of them were always into something.

Donna managed to keep busy as a stay at home mom.

"Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. 'Is that a pterodactyl? It sure makes a lot of noise. But those damn bees. The bees are so thick you can hear them and feel the air move. 'Bee Keeper! Get the fucking bees away from us! Everyone has been stung. This is dangerous here. You should know if you get stung enough it can kill you. Not me, the others, they are stung worse. Fucking touch me and I will hit you with my fly swatter! Give the others the bee sting serum. Don't give me any shit, I will fucking hit you, now give it to the others NOW! Dragonflies, where did they come from? Well at least they eat the damn bees."

"Franklin, wake up honey. Take a shower baby." Donna said still half asleep.

I did what she said and came back to bed. I had a headache and my scars hurt like crazy. I hate fucking bees. I told her now I was dreaming of dragonflies and prehistoric birds. I also began to remember snakes and hogs and even dancing. The dreams were getting crazier and crazier.

"Why can't I remember the accident?" I asked the doctor as the wife sat beside me. "And those damn dreams."

"I think the accident memory problem is probably post traumatic stress. Maybe you will remember and then maybe not. As for your dreams, I am not sure but maybe they have something to do with the accident."

"No doctor I don't know the fucking genus of the pterodactyl! It was a huge flying bird with leather wings. No I don't know if it was a Quetzalcoatlus or a pteranodon. It was a fucking huge reptile with leather wings and a wingspan about the size of a semi-truck. I am an accountant not a paleontologist!" Damn these doctors ask some stupid fucking questions.

The dreams got worse and but thankfully life was still dull and boring, just like I wanted it. I counted beans and I came home and sometimes we had sex, but that was less and less as time went on. I guess I was boring there too.

"Doctor why would I be dreaming about dragonflies and hogs, and snakes, now it is snakes too and then there is the dancing." I asked.

"What kind of dancing? Ballroom dancing, dancing like in Saturday Night Fever, what kind of dancing are you dreaming about?" The doctor asked me.

"Well it is more like West Side Story, Sharks versus Jets." I told him.

"Do you dance with anyone at all?" he followed.

"Well this is kind of embarrassing but at times I think I am dancing with other men. It is not erotic kind of dancing but just holding each other and moving." Looking at my wife, who is holding my hand, I continue. "You know, my left hand holding their right hand. My right hand touching them. Or a few times I am sort of doing a ballroom sort of thing where we twirl around and I am holding them by the waist and he has his hands around my neck. I can't see faces or even real shapes but I know it is men. It is nothing sexual, but just strange and there are always the bees as part of the dream. Lots of times there are snakes and hogs and dragonflies and we are always skidding on something. It is like people say 'skids' and we start skidding." I tell my wife and the doctor.

The doctor has no idea what to do.

"Is he happy at home, does he do anything strange?" the doctor asks Donna.

"No, nothing at all seems to bother him. His problem is the dreams and he has them almost every night. But other than the dreams, he is doing well. He is the same at home as he has always been all these years. The dreams don't seem to impact him when he is awake." Donna said.

That was the last time I saw a doctor.

We still did all the Saturday events that was the way the neighborhood was. We actually saw members of the group daily, but Saturday it was everybody. There were about twenty of them, not counting the kids. It was a very close knit group.

We did the school things too. There was the PTA, saving for college, and even weddings. Shit weddings were expensive. Graduation gifts ate up a lot of money but we had more than enough. You can make a fair amount of money counting beans.

When the family needed something I was proud to be able to get it for them. Yes at times I would have to work overtime and pick up the schedules of others who were off on vacation or just sick. Donna told me we needed money and I found a way to earn it for the family.

The house was paid for and we had added on but never borrowed on it. We had retirement accounts, well I did. There were new cars and family vacations too.

"How do you put up with being married to someone so boring?" one of Donna's friends asked.

'I manage to find ways to entertain myself. Franklin is good to me and is not demanding. I have money, a good home, and a man who loves me like crazy, life for me is always good. You ladies should be as lucky as me." I heard Donna say. Then she added "But then again you are as lucky as me." They all laughed.

"Really girls, he will do anything for me and my kids and that is all I really want." Donna finished.

Time went on and on. We were near our thirty year anniversary.

"Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. 'The others have been stung. Bee keeper, help them. Where did all the damn bees come from? Are you raising bees around here? Shit they sting everything they can.' 'Hey, put some of that insect bomb over there, they seem to have a nest there.' They seem to be afraid of the pterodactyl? Why would bees be afraid of a bird that has been extinct for 85 million years? Fucking God Damn bees, where are they all coming from? 'Some give me another fly swatter.' 'Who else has been stung?' 'Bee keeper, get those pterodactyls to chase the bees.' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop." Another crazy dream but I was used to it now.

"Hey Franklin, still dancing with any men as the bees sting you?" Randolph asked. Everyone laughed like crazy about it.

I was a little taken aback that Donna would have mentioned it to anyone, especially dancing with men, MY dancing with men. It was something that was supposed to be between us, not us and her friends too.

I pulled her over to the side of the road on a drive back to the house. We could have walked but Donna liked to drive over. That way if there was something they needed I could just drive out and get it. I did that a lot too. "Donna, why the hell did you mention this to anyone? This is very personal! You betray me and the trust I put in you when you do this." I told her.

Donna laughed at me. "Franklin, these are our best friends in the world. We do everything together. We see each other everyday and we take vacations together, and have meals with each other every day. Franklin why are you being an ass about this? You are the one dancing with other men!" Donna said.

Well that was how it started. It was the first time I realized that someone else meant more to Donna than I did. I don't mean the kids, I mean other people. I began to have doubts about US and then I started to get suspicious. I hated being suspicious, it means that my life is not boring anymore and I really craved boredom.

It took a few months but I learned everything I wanted to know once I actually started looking and actually paying attention. Had I actually been blind all of these years? When the time was right I confronted everyone at one of their little get together events, which I had not been invited to.

I went into Robert's house without being invited. In thirty years I never walked into one of Donna's friend's house without being invited, but they did it all the time to me and our house. It was very interesting to say the least.

Inside the house was my loving wife Donna, her son John, and her two daughters, Paula and Billie. All twenty of the "friends", actually nineteen; and Donna's adult children, of course. They were all naked and yes they were fucking like crazy.

"Well you finally found out." Robert JOHN Wilson said. Everyone laughed as they looked at me standing there.

"Come in Franklin and learn the truth about your boring life." Robert JOHN Wilson added.

"I believe you know my daughter Billie," Henry WILLIAM [BILLIE] Craft added. The laughter never stopped.

"Let me introduce you to Paula's father" Donna said. "But you already know Grant PAUL Collins."

Each time there was an introduction I was informed of a middle name that matched the first name of the child I thought was mine. The middle name was spoken louder than the other part of the name. But I knew the truth before I got there that day, just barely.

The wives were just as bad. They were all fucking. My ex-son was married and thirty and his wife was there too. The Ex-daughters were there too. Everyone was part of a swinger group; everyone but me. I was boring.

Now I knew why my ex-children all started to call me Franklin, and not Dad or Father, as they did years ago. Donna said it was just a phase but I was hurt; still I let it go, then, not now.

"Why Donna? Why did you do this to me? Why did you steal thirty years of my life? What did I ever do to you to deserve this?" I asked.

Exasperation was on all of their faces.

"Franklin, you are just boring, and you are a wimp. You have no passion. You can't seem to stand up for yourself. You move through life as if nothing matters at all, except the kids and I. Maybe for someone else that would be enough but it was not for us.

"When we were all children we made a pact to always be together. We all lost our virginity with each other and kept having sex together. There was one more but he died, so we needed one more man. You were that man. That made the group even again, ten men and ten women. We thought we could keep you in the dark forever. I don't know how you found out but it is way to late now. You were kept in the dark for thirty years; you seemed to like it in the dark. Did you really think I wanted the genes of a loser like you to pollute my children? You are nothing Franklin. You have no backbone; there is nothing that you will fight for, nothing you feel passion about, not even me and the children. But I no longer care. You are bad at sex, you do a boring job, and you are not really more than a good slave who supported me and my children." Donna said.

"Donna I wanted to have more sex, I wanted to do more things but you kept shutting me down. Hell, I thought you were into necromania, you hardly moved during sex. I see you apparently don't have that problem here. Apparently I was the only one you shot down as you sit there with a cock still up your ass, cum dripping out of your pussy and cum on your face from sucking one of your buddies off. Why not me? Why the hell not have a full sex life with the man you married and who cared for you and your children for thirty years?" I asked.

"Franklin if I did what you wanted you would have wanted it all the time. Then you would have found out I was having sex with my lovers here. Then there would have been the chance you might have been the one to get me pregnant and I could not take that chance. And that memory thing, those dreams, and those scars, did you really think I would find those attractive? I picked you because I was already pregnant, you did not know about me and my friends, and you were easy. Sleep with you once, claim you were the father, all was well and done. I was not that far along so you would never figure it out. The baby would just be a little premature." Donna said.

"Is that all I ever was to you? Someone to give you money and support you while you had sex with your old friends and then get your children into this sick life you live? You called me Baby and Honey and held me when I had those dreams. What that all a lie too?" I said.

"Don't be such an ass Franklin. I liked you, sort of. I was just being nice when I called you baby and honey. You did not seem to mind. But after a while, well you just disgusted me with years of those damn dreams and dancing with other men. What the hell were you thinking? You have to be kidding me. Here you are some crying closet half fag dancing with men in your stupid dreams, worrying about dragonflies, flying fucking prehistoric birds, snakes and hogs and bee keepers. You are a freak! Well the damage is done and there is nothing you can do about it. If you divorce me I will get half of everything and the home too. Because we have been married for so long you will have to pay me alimony until you die." Donna added with an evil looking smile.

"And your fuck buddies? What about them, where they in on it all along?" I wanted to know. Actually I already knew but I wanted them to admit it.

"Franklin, they are not my fuck buddies, they are my lovers. We have all been in love since we were children. You just can't understand love like that. You don't understand devotion to people you love." Donna said.

Then her fuck buddies answered.

"You bet we were. You were the perfect dupe. We were happily fucking your wife as you worked away. Then we started fucking your daughters too. Our wives got to fuck your son. Oups, he is not really your son and they are not your daughters. Once they learned the score your pretend kids happily joined the club. When we went on vacations there was always someone with you so we could fuck Donna and later the daughters too. But then Donna would be with you and we would orgy by ourselves as you did that boring husband and wife thing you insisted on doing every time. Having 'alone' time, holding hands, kissing her hand and looking longingly into her eyes. Damn dude you are just so fucked up. We would have invited you but you are not really worth the effort. The wives talked about it and none of them would have fucked you so you were a no go from the start and never got any further."

This came from all of the men and women too, but in various parts of the discussion. There was more, a lot more, but it is not all worth repeating. It is enough to say that they all disclosed their contempt for me, their using my money to raise their children, and their helping each other keep me in the dark.

"Now that it is out in the open there is no need to hide anything. Be a good boy and go and clean up the house, I will be back in a few days and I expect it to be nice and clean." Donna said.

Everyone was laughing at me.

Eventually I had everything I needed and I left and went home. I still remember the laughter as I walked out of the door without closing it.

But as I walked out I turned to Donna and said:

"You must be proud as you sit there getting fucked knowing that your son and you get to watch that has been of a high school football hero, who made John with you, sitting in a chair with his cock up your daughters ass. Or maybe John Jr. likes to see Paula's father fucking his wife? Hey John Sr., are your other kids in this bunch? John Jr., does your wife come over when you are not around, like your whore mother does, and fuck your father? This is what you gave me up for, betrayed me for? You gave your children away to people who treat you, and now them, as a cum bucket or in John's case, a young dildo with a pulse. I bet you actually picked out a mate for John, just to make sure you had a person who could become new permanent fuck mate. Donna did you or your children ever notice that your fuck buddies kids are not part of this group and ask yourselves why? I know their wives only had their husband's children but you played their whore and their cunt. These are the genes you wanted to pass on to your children and grandchildren? You wanted to pass on the genes of people who hate you. Think about this slut, your chosen mate killed himself rather than marrying a woman who got pregnant by John. Didn't that give you a fucking clue you stupid bitch? Yes, I knew he killed himself and why. It was not hard to find out once I started investigating. I'm just happy that I am not part of their precious gene pool and none of the bastards will ever call me father or grandfather."

My little pen camera picked it up nicely. It was a good thing I was actually invited to stay, that gave me permissions to record everything too.

"Come back any time 'cuckie'" John Sr. said as I was walking out. "Bring a few friends next time. Oups, you don't have any friends do you cuckie?"

Apparently John was right; I did not have any friends. But I did have six county marshals all with papers to serve on everyone, except the kids.

"They gave me permission to let you in, they are all there." I said to the group of law enforcement officers.

In our county the Marshals serve process for the courts and they can be privately retained to do just that. I hired six of them to serve everyone at one time and in one place. I told you I was a bean counter.

Now let me tell you that the screams of twenty three naked people as half a dozen uniformed armed Marshals entered the place was deafening. It was even louder than them all going through orgasms together. I had to smile as I walked away unhurriedly shaking my head. The restraining orders would keep everyone away until the dust settled.

The divorce was nasty and I did not do it in the same town I lived in, I went to the county seat. I went for a fraud annulment and based on the evidence I got at our little talk I was able to hit the other "friends" up for millions. I already had the information but their confession was all I needed to use in one little bit of dialogue.

They all admitted they were in on the fraud from the beginning, that I was specifically targeted, it was a conspiracy, from the beginning and they admitted how they would keep me busy so that the others could fuck my wife and her daughters.

They talked about using me to pay for things for them and their other children. How Donna took our money to buy things for her fuck buddies. They talked themselves out of millions of dollars, all nineteen of them did.

I got the house, everything inside of it, all of our savings, retirement, everything. Since Donna and I were not married, the annulment based on fraud took care of that, there was no community property. Donna owed me for raising her bastards as did their parents. Needless to say the bastards were not kind to me either. They hated what I did to their mother and their fathers. But I was not done yet. I was a bean counter and I knew how many beans make five.

In the end I got a little over five million dollars from all concerned. That was fair after schools, vacations, college, weddings, and thirty years of lies and deceit. They were all in on the conspiracy so they all got to pay. I did not break them but I sure as hell put a nice big dent in them. I have to admit that they were still friends and they all pooled their money to pay everything off, especially after I started filing writs of attachment on everything.

I even got an order changing the birth certificates as the original ones were obtained through fraud. Donna was required to return my name, but I don't think she really wanted to keep it. The kids lost my name too. I am not sure what it is now and I don't care. For my part I lost their addresses and phone numbers. I also lost thirty years of my adult life.

I did not want to live in the house but I did not really want to sell it. I wanted to destroy it. So a few weeks after the divorce was final and I had my money I came back to the old neighborhood, much to their amazement.

I had a crew with me to knock the house down. Donna went nuts as did the kids.

It was my final act of vengeance. The house was worth about six hundred thousand dollars on the market and boring me had paid it off before I found out what was going on. Donna wanted it badly as did the kids. It was where they grew up and all of their fuck buddies lived in the same tract.

Eventually they induced me to let it go for one million one hundred thousand dollars. Yes, I jacked up the price and all of the fuck buddies bought it. They were smug about it too. I was just as smug; I made an extra half a million in three days of talking. They agreed to a cash payment and a five day escrow.

Why would they do that? That was simple, my house was the key. It abutted one property rear to rear, as well as the sides of two others. If someone else had bought it their little games would have been a lot more difficult. Their sex lives were worth so much to them that they paid big time for it.

Before I left I destroyed every picture, even the ones on the computers. I destroyed every school project sent to "dad," or "mom." Every mother's Day card, every Father's Day Card, every Birthday Card, every Christmas card and every vacation card and picture. What ever history was in the house was now in the garbage dump or in the burn barrel. When I turned the house over to her it had all the furniture, my clothes, everything else was there. The refrigerator was full of rotten food and not a dish had been cleaned since that day those many months before. I did nothing to keep the place up. The yard was junk too. It had no electricity, gas or water, everything was turned off.

I was kind enough to repaint thought. I thought that was pretty nice of me. Every wall, and ceiling, and window and every piece of woodwork was sprayed with a new coat of dull, boring, black paint. Yes they knew about it when they bought it. Kind of hard to hide blackout windows.

Donna got the house back and lived there. It became their party house so the fuck buddies would all get a key. Donna kept the place up and became their personal whore or house keeper. Hey that is what she and the rest of the women were anyway. She never saw it that way but I sure as hell did. She did not see that it was only her kids that were part of the group even after I told her. She thought it was only because they were special, but it was because they were stupid enough to believe the shit their whore mother told them. It was only her daughters that were whores for her friends and it was only her son that let his wife get fucked, even by his own father. Donna was never the brightest light in the firmament.

I had quit work and just left, I left everything except the money. I even left my clothes. I left everything that would remind me of that life; I even left things I forgot I had. If they had been important I would not have forgotten them.

I drove all night and stopped in a cheap motel and in the morning I stopped at Walmart and got some cheap pants and shirts, and new underwear and everything else I would need for my trip. I threw away the clothes I was wearing when I left. I wanted nothing to remind me of them or those thirty years. The car was a rental and I changed cars that next day too. It was the equivalent of stomping the dust from my feet. It is a bible thing, look it up.

Two days later I was in Our Nation's Capital and at the door of the Pentagon. Ok I was not really at the door; I went to an annex and filled out an application, giving them the Day's Inn I was staying at as an address and my new cell phone number. Yes I had tossed the old one; they used it to track me when I was not home. They thought of everything. I found that one out during my two month investigation. I used that to my advantage. It had call forwarding and I just left it where I wanted them to think I was and I had full rein to follow them and be where they did not want me to be.

The DOD hired me the next week. It was a strange interview. I was a bean counter and the DOD has one hell of a lot of beans to count and they are all over the world. I was a CPA and had good auditor references though. I gave them work history and everything else. Despite all of this I had a very strange interview.

I was asked if I was going to use Veterans Points Preference to get the job but I told him about the accident and my being in a coma for two years and not actually going into the military during Vietnam. He smiled and excused himself.

A few minutes later he came back with a couple of files and read them to himself as I watched from the other side of the table. Then a man in a Navy uniform came in and took my fingerprints with some type of computer print device. They looked at the screen and nodded to each other.

"Welcome to the Department of Defense Mr. Hill," the man said to me with a warm welcoming smile and a handshake. "Is there anyplace you think you might like to start?"

"Well yes there is. I did not think I would be asked where I wanted to go but to be honest I have lead a very sedate and somewhat boring life and I would like to experience a little adrenalin rush once in a while. I want to go to Iraq or Afghanistan where I can be the most good." I replied.

I don't know why I picked the DOD or even asked to work a war zone but I did.

I had been married in 1973 and it was now 2003 and the war was just beginning. I wanted to do what I had never done. I was tired of being bored, I wanted action, and I wanted to go to war, even if it meant counting fucking beans.

If you pressed me I think I wanted to die but I was too cowardly to do it.

"I think that can be arranged Mr. Hill" the interviewer said. "You sure you would not prefer something more sedate?"

I advised him that sedate was not what I was looking for. They smiled and said then it would be as I asked. The Navy man, wearing a very funny gold emblem, like an Eagle holding an anchor or some such thing said "Welcome Aboard" and it was over.

A few days later I was fitted with body armor called Dragon Skin. I had to pay for it myself. It was not standard issue and the troops were not allowed to use it after a while, but I liked it. Maybe it was the name, "dragon." They also sent me to school for weapons training. This part was strange because I was a civilian DOD employee and all I was going to do was audit assets in the theater of operations. The body armor I could understand, the tactical weapons training was a mystery. When I asked why I was told:

"We think you should." Some soldier said.

What the hell. I was no longer living a boring life. I carried twin .45's in my back so I could pull one out with each hand, and a M16A4. Many of the younger guys liked other weapons but the M16 felt comfortable in my hands, so I used it. Lots of guys carried the Ka-Bar for a blade but I preferred the standard M9 Bayonet. I was not Rambo but I was not going to get killed because I could not defend myself.

They trained me in how to use each weapon and I surprised myself at how easy it was to learn. My instructors acted like it was expected. No pat on the back there.

I first went to Afghanistan. I was one of a number of people on the team. That was the fist time I freaked out. We landed so we could take other transport to our base of operation. From there we would visit smaller bases or supply points. That was when I heard it.

We had just gotten onto our transport when I heard it:

"Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop,"

It was the sound of the rotor spinning as the blades cut through the air. Not identical to the dream but damn close. The chopper was just sitting when we got on board but they started it and after the whine of the jet engines waking up the sound came.

"Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop,"

"Well I must have heard it someplace. After all dreams are about what we know, even if it is not about what we do or did. This is my pterodactyl sound. Large leather wings cutting through the air. Mystery solved, that is where I heard the sound and used it in my dreams. I must have heard a military helicopter before someplace else even if I don't remember it." I thought.

The dreams, yes I still had them but now there was not some lying fucking whore calling me baby and holding me like she actually cared about me pretending to want me to feel better.

We hit a number of bases, if that is what you can call them. If we had assets there I look and counted them.

I learned a few good lessons right up front. Islamic's are not for sale, but you can do a short time rental.

They were the best allies money could buy but only in the short term. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." If their enemy was our enemy they could be rented.

The dreams continued. Now the smoke people took shapes and even some form of faces.

I was now an old man with children, well certainly old but only "almost" with children. If you were thirty you were "dad" to them. If you were forty, "gramps" was the term. If you were over fifty, you were "Hey fucking old man."

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