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Garbage

By: jthserra



This is garbage, a tale of garbage, or if you will, a tail of garbage. It's a tale of smell, of the smell that clings to your clothes, that lingers in your hair and that permeates your every pore. It's the overpowering smell of too sweet perfume and too manly cologne, worn in the futile attempt to quell the pervasive odor of rot.

In another life, Janine might have been a model, her lithe frame gracefully cross-stepping the runways in the finest clothes, wearing elegant jewelry and exuding a sublimely erotic fragrance that whispered only of the very finest designers. Unfortunately, her lithe frame was more suited to an earlier era and her graceful movement was more Rubenesque than fashion photo shoot.

Certainly, her ample breasts drew considerable attention, but as proportionately beautiful as she was, she was simply too large for most men or women to consider her attractive. The strange edict that defined the range of beauty in the minimal variations from the proportion 36, 24, 36 sadly ignored numbers like 45, 30, 45, so Janine traded her dreams of fashion gowns for the dark striped overalls of the sanitation department.

Garbage, pure and simple: the thought that something of value, something that someone actually wanted to obtain would suddenly, for a wide variety of reasons, become undesirable was something Janine quickly understood. So, while her complexion was so smooth and soft that women longed to touch her face, the men she knew only wanted to see their white cum dripping from that perfect skin.

Janine learned to settle, to settle for the quick, groping of her co-workers in the cabs of the garbage trucks. Although she enjoyed the sensations, the soft feel of the skin of a hard, strange cock as it slid between the rolling mounds of her breasts, the feral look in the men's eyes as they fucked her tits, the warm feel and strange smell of their cum as they splashed over her face and breasts, she quickly found that as soon as the men came, they quickly wanted to get away from her. That was until she met Ruben.

Ruben was different, sure he met her in the cab of the truck and he did enjoy the ample, soft flesh of her breasts, coating her with his warm cum, but he was more. Ruben didn't leave immediately after he came, in fact he was the first man to reach between her legs, slipping his fingers into her wet cunt.

Janine lost herself in his touch and as Ruben ran his fingers up her slit, alternating between rolling over her clit and sliding down into her wet depths, she first thought of herself as something more than the discarded plaything the other men used. Ruben's fingertips carried her over the edge, and as her pussy quaked over his fingers she dared, for the first time, to want more.

Tears ran down her face as she held him tight, slowly recovering from the first orgasm she shared with anyone else. Ruben kissed her tears and whispered to her, "Can we do this again tomorrow?"

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Janine replied, "Yes, tomorrow would be nice."

"Should I bring a rubber?" he asked.

Understanding fully what he was asking she replied, "Yes, please do."

Janine watched Ruben fix his stained overalls and slide down out of the truck. She cleaned herself up, fixed her overalls and climbed down to the concrete pavement. Leaving work, she realized that for the first time in a long, long time, she looked forward to the next day.

That evening, she rubbed her skin raw trying to remove the pervading stench of garbage from her body and hair. She had never really noticed how the smell stayed with her until then and she spent hours ridding herself of it all. Janine even washed her overalls, something she usually only did once a week.

The morning seemed to shine brightly for her and even though the day seemed to drag as she sprinted from trash can to trash can, she soon found herself riding back to the motor pool. Walking through the office, she casually brushed aside the juvenile innuendo the men took as witty and headed to the back of the lot.

Ruben waited for her, bowing slightly in mock elegance as he opened the door to the truck. Janine turned to slide her large frame through the door and felt a hand move over her ass and squeeze gently. Again, something that seemed so demeaning at the hands of the other men, was strangely touching to her.

Inside the cab, she wrestled out of her coveralls and slipped off her large panties as she watched Ruben lovingly work the condom over his hard cock. Although he was small in stature, Ruben's cock was one of the larger one's she had seen, rivaling even Joe T's, the six foot three ex-basketball star.

Ruben eased his small frame between Janine's large, but muscular thighs and though her frame seemed to dwarf him, his cock began to open her more than anything had before. Although the condom was lubricated and Janine was incredibly wet, she felt the slight tug, as her delicate flesh stretched over him. Biting her lip as a sharp pain pierced her, she felt him slide deep into her body.

The pain subsided some as Ruben began to move upon her, slowly thrusting and then quickly withdrawing. Overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations, Janine winced a bit at the pain while she trembled as pleasure seemed to course through her. Filled with his cock, she felt an empty longing absorb her as he withdrew and moaned as his thrust then filled her again.

Suddenly, Ruben seemed to growl and thrust himself into her with a great, convulsing spasm. She felt his cock twitch several times as a bit of drool formed at the corner of his mouth and she gasped as his weight fell upon her, flattening her large breasts.

Ruben lay in silence for only a moment, then he quickly withdrew from her, slipped the condom off his softening cock and moved toward the door. Tossing the spent condom onto the ground, he zipped up his overalls and without a word he clumsily climbed out of the truck.

Looking down at him she asked, "Come back tomorrow?"

Ruben shrugged and with a disdainful look on his face, he turned and walked away. Janine lay back down on the seat, she had seen that look before, it was the same look she saw every day as the people carried their garbage to the curb. Once they finished depositing their load, the people would lithely walk away, suddenly, somehow lighter.

Janine looked up at Ruben as he walked to the front of the lot. He seemed to bounce as he walked.

Garbage



Thanks as usual to Mikothebaby for her tireless efforts and consumate skill in editing this story. As most of you know with my terrible punctuation and addiction to commas, without her you would have a lot of trouble trying to read this.

*  *  *  *  *  *

There comes a time in every marriage when the bloom is off of the rose. Not that the love is gone or that you hate each other, but things are just not new anymore. It can be the best time in the relationship for some couples and the worst for others. This can be a make or break point for marriages because you have to seriously look at things and decide whether or not you want to continue to stay married to that person. The term, "It's cheaper to keep her," had to be coined by a guy who had reached that point. 

It comes roughly about the same time when you look at the girl you fell in love with and married, only to realize that she's somehow been replaced with her mother, whom you hate. That svelte, feminine body has been upgraded and accessorized until you no longer recognize or even want it.

At the same time, personalities, both yours and hers, have evolved to the point where the thing you dreamed about when you met has come true. You are both truly totally honest with each other. First off, we need to understand that humans, though we talk about it all the time and respect it, are simply not cut out for real honesty. We simply can't handle it. When you love someone, you almost have to lie to them and do it regularly. 

We lie in a thousand different ways, verbally being only one of them. But once we reach that certain age where we've become fully evolved, where we become the ultimate version of ourselves, we simply no longer give a shit.

We become so comfortable with who and what we are that we simply don't feel it's worth the effort to pretend any more. That's when the lying stops and the rubber meets the road.

So you've got a beer belly...Let it all hang out. You're lazy...Buy yourself a new couch. Your eyesight sucks...Ditch the contacts and buy a bigger fucking TV. You have no need to hide any of your imperfections from the little woman anymore because you're married to her and you've been together for so long that you have to put up with each other's shit anyway.

Don't worry guys, they do it too. For women this is the time to throw away the pushup bras and stop wearing high heels. They've realized that all of sexy underwear is just plain uncomfortable and all you're going to do is take it off of them to get what you want anyway. So they buy a hundred pairs of granny panties and dare you to say a fucking word about it.

Oh Boy let the good times fucking roll...

So anyway, I'm 54. Due to some great investments early on and a downturn in the auto industry, I'm retired. Because of my brilliance as an engineer and some patents I developed for my company, they can no longer afford to pay my salary and the way my retirement package was accruing trailing zeros, it became clear to some of the bean counters that the smarter thing for the company to do would be to offer me a buy-out.

It was a win/win situation. The company gives me a one-time payment in the upper single digit millions so I no longer have to work for the rest of my fucking life. Boo ya! On the other hand they get to license my patents and they get to clear the cost of my exorbitant mid six figures salary from their books and also to hire a fresh new crop of engineers to breathe some much needed life into the company. It was a good deal for everyone concerned for the first year or so before the inevitable boredom set in on my end.

My wife loved the idea at first. We now had both the time and the money to do all of those things we never had the time or the money to do before. We started out by downsizing our home and moving into a sparking and modern brand new condo. With our only offspring out on her own, we no longer needed a large house.

That took us through the first six months. Then we started traveling the globe. That ate up another six months until we got the idea that no matter where you go, it's only another place that the people who live there are fucking tired of.

We settled into the new condo and familiarity began to breed what it usually does. I started to notice new things about my wife, Linda, that thirty years of marriage had failed to teach me. I mean I still loved her, I just didn't like her. I think it was because we were simply spending too much time together.

A day is twenty four hours long. The average person spends eight to ten of those hours at work. The average person also spends about eight of those hours asleep. You also have travel time to and from destinations. With different hobbies and activities added in it takes a big ass chunk out of your day.

I suddenly realized that except for when we were on vacations, Linda and I only spent a few hours a day together. Now all of a sudden I was trapped with her twenty four hours a day, seven days a week until one of us died. I was also suddenly faced with the fact that we had nothing in common except our daughter and that Linda was either, to quote the Temptations, a ball of confusion or an utter fucking moron.

First off, let me begin by saying that I did not marry Linda because I thought that she was brilliant. I married her because she was a willing and good fuck, hotter than hell, and had a pleasing personality. Like most engineers, I had multiple reasons for the decision as you can see. I also considered that time might take one or maybe even two of those admirable qualities away from her, but even if any one of those was left she'd still be worth spending time with.

Unh unh, I was wrong. As far as the sex goes, over time she became more willing to use it against me. You know the story. If she wanted something and I didn't, she used sex to get her way. That worked for the first few years until suddenly I developed the ability to say no to her. Then she started saying no to me until she got her way. Sometime after the first ten years, it just became easier to go without than to put up with her shit. So now it was a case where it was once in a while if we both wanted it type of thing.

As far as her being hot; I blew it there too. Linda was surprisingly beautiful when we met. She had big firm boobs, a tiny waist and a nice sized butt. There are lots of fifty year old women out there who work at it and are still incredibly hot. There are also lots of fifty year old women out there who don't work at it and are blessed with good genetics and stay very hot. Lastly, there are lots of fifty year old women out there for whom their sexual appeal has nothing to do with their looks. They have a flirtatious nature or other skills that just make you want them anyway.

Sadly, Linda fits into none of those cases. Over the years she just let herself go, so...her body and her looks went.

When she was twenty five, my Linda's measurements were 40 26 38 and I'm very proud to say that she has the exact same measurements today. The problem isn't the numbers though it's the order. Her boobs are still pretty big but they're a very saggy 38 now. Her gut has ballooned out to a staggering 40 inches and it was like her ass just deflated down to only 26 inches. 

Linda still thinks she looks the same now though and you can't tell her any different. Part of our problem was that we're just different. I am in no way perfect. I over analyze everything, I'm a slave to my schedule and I'm sure that over the years, several of my pursuits and hobbies have taken precedence over my marriage, but hey, I try and I've never cheated on her. I've always been an average looking guy, so I had to work harder. I've exercised for most of my life so now in my later years, I'm still fit and trim from daily workouts and runs. 

Linda, on the other hand, got her looks through her genetics. Her body was a gift from God so she didn't ever think she had to do anything to keep it up. That was one of our problems when we traveled. I always needed to visit the gym in every hotel we stayed in because anyone will tell you it's easier to stay up than to get up. Linda always thought that I shouldn't work out at all while we were on vacation. She hated my need to run in the morning or throw a few weights around. She said it made her feel like we were on a schedule instead of truly free to just relax.

On the other hand, I hated the fact that we couldn't do anything because of Linda's inability to walk for more than a block or two over flat ground and her constant need to eat. Every new activity I posed was met with comments like, "We can't do that. It takes too much energy." Or she'd say, "We can't do that. That's for kids."

The last thing for me to discover about the love of my life was that her personality had degraded along with her body. Over the years she'd become an expert on everything and a hypocrite at the same time. On one hand she'd tell me that a woman can do anything a man can. She'd also tell me that since neither of us worked anymore, not that she ever had; we needed to split the household chores between us. 

I'm not a chauvinist, I was all for it. I would get up early and do my work-out while Linda slept then I'd start tackling all of my household duties. I'd do exactly half of what was on the list and leave the rest for her. She would conveniently get out of most of her share of the chores by saying that certain things were just not for women to do.

One of those of course was taking out the garbage. I don't know why women who all swear that they can do anything any man can do find it so difficult to pick up a bag of household garbage and carry it to the can and drop it. It can't be the weight of it because the average trash bag weighs less than twenty pounds and is mostly full of paper or wrappers and discarded food. But Linda insisted that no woman should ever have to take out the garbage. She was sure there was a rule prohibiting it somewhere.

Anyway, it was garbage out of everything else that ended my marriage. It seems to be such a stupid thing for two people who loved each other to draw a line in the sand over, but it was taking out the trash that ended us.

Linda came in one Saturday morning and told me to take out the trash that she'd just finished filling up the cans with. I, of course, had just started watching one of my favorite track meets on TV.

Being an avid runner, I liked watching the athletes who were the best in the world at the sport I loved. Linda, who, of course, couldn't run a block if a pit bull was chasing her didn't understand it.

"Stan, I need you to take out the garbage, right now," she said. It wasn't just the fact that she'd told me, not asked me to do it. It was her tone of voice and her complete lack of respect for what I was doing.

"No," I said.

"It'll be a long time before you get any sex out of me if you don't," she sneered.

"It's been a long time since I've gotten any sex out you already," I said. "I'll survive." She got really angry for some reason and just stalked out. Since there were only the two of us in the house, we really didn't create a ton of mess so the bag wasn't even very full. The next thing I knew she was glaring at me as she stalked by me with the bag. 

She was back within five minutes still glaring at me, but that was how it started. Things got very cold between us for about a week and then suddenly she made up with me. I don't know why or how. It was seemingly, at least to me, spontaneous. It was as if we'd never been angry. I hadn't been anyway. She'd been the one who was pissed off. Maybe she'd just decided that it was stupid and to just let it go.

I did start to feel guilty about it after we made up but since things were going well between us I didn't want to push it. The funny thing was that when I tried to take out the garbage she wouldn't let me anymore. She'd just fly off the handle and grab the bags out of my hands. 

"I see what's going on," I said. "You're still pissed at me."

"No Stanley," she said, kissing me on the forehead. "I'm not angry at you."

"I've got it," I said. "You just don't want me to take out the garbage because you still don't want to have sex with me."

"Stanley, we can have sex whenever you want," she said. "Tonight probably isn't very good unless you let me take a shower first though."

I couldn't figure it out. It wasn't like Linda to just give up on something. Over the next few days my guilt motivated me more than anything else did. With Valentine's Day coming up I decided to splurge and buy Linda the diamond bracelet she'd been leering over and staring at in the jewelry ads. I even went better and upped the carats. I spent almost three thousand dollars on a bracelet that I was sure she'd love. I also planned a night out at our favorite restaurant. I arranged for flowers and the whole nine yards this would be a Valentine's Day to remember.

I didn't wait until the last minute either. We still had over a week before Valentine's Day arrived. I was feeling pretty good about myself then. I was actually proud that for once I hadn't slipped out on Valentine's Day morning and bought her the first cheapest thing I could find. And for once I wouldn't tell her that we'd had so many Valentine's days together that if she didn't know I loved her by now there was something wrong with her.

The thing was, I guess I'd started re-thinking everything. Sure her looks hadn't gotten any better. But her attitude had definitely improved. And like I said before, the love was still there, but Linda being nicer and just letting some of our arguments go gave me a reason to like her again.

One of the things I'd noticed was that over the past few weeks we started to produce a lot more garbage. It used to be that we only really had to take out the trash once or twice a week. Now it was at least three or four times a week. The other thing that was odd was that Linda seemed to be gone a lot longer than it took just to walk out behind the building and drop a bag into the large dumpsters back there.

When it was time to take out the garbage the day before Valentine's Day, I decided to do it for her. She made a huge stink about it. I had to listen to the whole women can do anything a man can do speech so I decided to just let it go. I turned on the television and started looking for something to watch. Linda grabbed the trash bags and headed out the door. I cracked the door open and watched as she turned the corner at the end of the hall.

I quickly ducked down the stairway at the other end of the hall and headed out to the back myself. I hoped that I didn't miss her since it was kind of dark out there. Actually I was quicker than she was and got there before she made the trip. Those daily runs had me in great shape.

I saw our building manger, Dino, out there doing something to that dirty ass BMW of his. The car was over ten years old and in terrible shape but he acted like it was something special. My 2010 Mustang GT looked and ran far better than his car ever did. Linda acted like his car was something special too. I think that it was mostly because she hated my Mustang.

I wondered what the hell Dino was doing back there but I wasn't concentrating on him. I wanted to find out what the hell was so special about the garbage.

Linda walked straight past the dumpster and over to Dino. He was a big fat slob of a guy. He leaned down and immediately just unzipped his pants. Linda got down on her knees in the filth of the alley and started sucking his dick like it was an ice cream cone. After a few minutes he pushed her away. Linda opened her jacket and wasn't wearing anything under it. She sat down on the hood of his car and spread her legs. Her skirt was up around her waist. Dino didn't waste any time. He got between her legs and rubbed his dick against her pussy a couple of times and then sunk in to the hilt. He thrust himself into her roughly a few times and then they settled into a rhythm. I was too shocked to move or to say anything. I can still remember every detail like they were burned into my brain.

I remember seeing him thrusting slowly but firmly in and out of her. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and even her hands gripped his flabby ass pulling him into her harder. Her sagging deflated breasts lolled off to both sides of her rib cage and moved with every thrust. Their colossal bellies both shook every time they came together. 

Dino grunted every time he thrust into her and he was wheezing like he was about to have a heart attack. Linda was the one moaning and urging him on. 

"Oh yeah, baby," she crooned. "This is your pussy. It's all yours. Take it," she yelled.

It seemed like forever but it was actually only about three minutes before Dino stiffened and roared. Then he just pulled up his pants and walked away like nothing had ever happened.

I waited for Linda to go back into the building and then quickly ran back up the stairs. I was too shocked to even think about what I'd just seen. 

Linda came into the condo only seconds after I'd settled back in front of the TV. As she passed by me she was normal. She wasn't overly cheerful. She wasn't defensive or anything like that. If I hadn't seen what I'd just seen, I never would have suspected a thing. I guess what they say is true. Women are much better at being sneaky than men are.

In fact, she was so much better at it than I was, that she almost caught me. She brought me a Dos Equis from the fridge and then looked at me.

"What's wrong Stan?" she asked. I didn't take my eyes off of the TV. I didn't even look at her.

"Nothing?" I said, trying to force my voice to sound normal.

"Then why are your cheeks wet. Have you been crying?" she asked.

"Oh that," I said. "The fucking Jamaicans beat us in the relay AGAIN. I was so excited that I accidently flicked one of my fingers in my eye. I'm sure they're doping but no one can prove it yet."

She looked at me very closely. "I think I'm going to take the Mustang out for a drive," I said.

"At night?" she asked.

"Why not at night?" I asked.

"Well, I was planning on taking a long soothing bath first but I was hoping we could..." she said.

"We could what?" I asked.

"You know..." she said smiling. "It's been a long time, Honey."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm not in the mood." And I wasn't. The only reason she wanted to fuck me was because she was feeling guilty about what she'd just done. I didn't think I'd ever touch her again. I grabbed my favorite comfortable old leather jacket and headed for the door. She just stood there with her mouth open. As I opened the door she called me.

"Stan, do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

"Why?" I asked. "You don't even like my car."

I closed the door then both physically and metaphorically. In a physical sense closing the door sealed our condo and prevented others from stealing or doing harm to its occupants and contents. Metaphorically speaking I sealed my broken heart and decided that Linda would do no further harm to it or my well being.

As I walked towards the garage, I noticed Dahlia Martin. She was a really beautiful young woman who lived in one of the units. She was tall and thin with long flowing hair that just begs for attention. I smiled at her and waved. She returned my wave kind of half heartedly. Dahlia was usually very friendly, so it got my attention. I walked over to her to ask her what was wrong.

"My stupid car won't start," she pouted.

Normally Dahlia worked from her condo. She did some kind of internet thing so if she was leaving it must have been really important.

"Well, call your date and have him pick you up," I said. "You're definitely worth it."

"You are the sweetest man ever, Mr. Laurel," she smiled. Dahlia obviously couldn't stay angry for more than two minutes. "But this is for work. I have to go all the way down town for a meeting to discuss changes in the rules and sign off on my yearly tax and insurance forms."




Garbage



"Well I'll take you then," I said. "I'm just going out for a drive to clear my head so it's no problem. When you get done, if you can't get a ride from a co-worker just call me and I'll pick you up too."

"But that's too much trouble," she said.

"Honey, the thing about being old and retired is that since you never have anything to do, having ANYTHING to do is exciting," I said.

"Thank you so much," she said. "Without you, I'd be in a lot of trouble."

"Don't mention it," I said. She took my arm as we walked over to my car. As I started the big v8 the car shook with the engine's vibration as if it was waking up from a long sleep. Within seconds I'd backed out of my stall and left the building.

Once we got on the freeway, it took me only 10 minutes to drive downtown. I followed her directions once we got there and put a way point in my GPS.

"There," I said.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked.

"In case you need me to pick you up. I'll be able to find this spot from wherever I am. I have no idea where I'm going," I said.

"I'm sure I'll be able to find a ride so I won't have to trouble you, Mr. Laurel," she said.

"Dahlia, I'm an old man, humor me. Give me your phone," I told her. She smiled and handed me her phone. I punched my number into it and called my iPhone. Then I handed her phone back to her.

"If you need me, you'll be able to call me now," I said. "And it's really no trouble." She got out of the car and I drove off heading back for the freeway.

I loved to just drive. I tended to stay on the freeway as opposed to the streets because I didn't have to stop for traffic lights or pedestrians. I also like to drive fast. Usually it's just me, me car and my stereo, with no distractions to come between us. I took advantage of Arizona's perfect February temperatures and let the warm night breezes blow directly into my car. In exchange, I let the loud ass music from my stereo permeate the silence of the evening as we drove. It was all about numbers. 

A man in his 50's driving a car designed to look the way they did 40 years ago, grieved for the ending of his plus 30 year marriage while listening to songs that were over 20 years old with the volume cranked up to 10. 

Tonight my album of choice was the Cult's Sonic Temple. Listening to American Horse helped me to both focus my rage and to steel my heart against what was to come. It isn't easy to get past the hurt that finding out that someone you've loved, laughed, argued and fought with for over thirty years had betrayed you.

It really isn't easy but it's not impossible either. I guess what made it possible was the fact that, like I've said before, I love her but I really don't like her. Maybe we really had grown apart over the years and this was just her way of dealing with it. She went to him for things that she either didn't want from me anymore or that she thought I wasn't capable of giving her.

I just couldn't figure out what those things were though. I was in far better shape than Dino even though he was younger. I had far more financial resources and more available time. The only thing I could think of was maybe he was just more willing to put up with her mood swings and bullshit. But even that was hard to believe because when he was done fucking her, he just walked off. He got the wham and the bam, but didn't even offer her the "Thank you ma'am."

Maybe she loved him or vice versa. I couldn't even see that though because they didn't kiss. Not once, she just walked up and started sucking his dick. This obviously wasn't the first time they'd done this. Their movements were too practiced. They'd done this before and probably quite often. Then it hit me. This was why she was taking the fucking garbage out so often now. 

She really thought she had me fooled, didn't she. I shook my head and laughed. I'd come to that realization just as Ian Astbury started singing the song's chorus. In my mind I substituted "She's" for "He's" in the lyrics and sang along with Ian and Billy.

"She's gone crazy, completely crazy. Trying to tame the American Horse."

The she I sang about was, of course, Linda. My wife of all these years had flipped her lid if she thought I'd put up with all of this. And, of course, if she thought that being nice to me after weeks of treating me like shit over something as stupid as taking out the fucking trash could somehow control me, then she was definitely crazy. I, like the American horse in the song, could not be tamed or controlled. I'd really started listening to the song because I guess I'd always seen the American Horse as a metaphor for my Mustangs. It was strange though the way the song now reflected my feelings about my dying marriage. And dying it was. There was no way I intended to spend the rest of my life with a woman who neither loved nor respected me. Both she and Dino would get what they deserved.

I took the next freeway exit and got back on in the opposite direction. I was heading for home with a new fire in my mind and a new dose of steel in my backbone just as Fire Woman came on in my stereo. My foot took off, plunging downwards on the gas pedal and the more I pushed it down, the bigger my smile got. In my mind, I started figuring out all of the moves I'd make over the next few days. Each new idea heightened my pleasure, and then an electric shock went through my body. I slowed the car down quickly and pulled off onto the side of the road.

Shit, I thought I'd been having a heart attack but it was only my phone. My stereo was so loud I hadn't heard the ringing, I'd only felt the vibrations.

"Hello," I said.

"Mr. Laurel," sniffled Dahlia. "I'm sorry to bother you. But I really do need that ride," she said.

"I'll be right there, Honey," I said. "Just wait for me by the front door where I dropped you off." I got back on the freeway and roared towards her location with all thoughts of my own misery and revenge gone.

Once again I roared into the night but this time I had a destination in mind. All thoughts about my own pain were banished at least for a while. Dahlia had sounded awful over the phone. That wasn't like her. She was one of the most cheerful people I knew. I wonder what could have happened to upset her. 

As soon as I got off of the freeway I started the GPS and quickly followed its spoken directions. Within minutes I was back at the building I'd dropped Dahlia off at. She ran over to the car and got in as if she'd just escaped some kind of nightmare.

"Home?" I asked.

"Yes please," she said in a very tiny voice.

We drove in silence, both lost in our thoughts. About five miles away from home her hand shot out and held mine. I didn't say anything. I was glad to give her some kind of comfort. As I drove into the garage, she let out a sigh of relief for the first time since she'd gotten back into the car.

"Thank you so much," she said.

"Dahlia, it was nothing," I said.

I watched her walk away. She seemed very different. The confident, beautiful young woman I'd seen only a few hours ago had somehow become a very frightened young girl.

"Dahlia," I called after her. She turned to look at me.

"If you need someone to talk to, I'm always available," I said. She nodded her head and headed for her condo.

I gave leaving again serious thought, but decided that more than anything else, I needed sleep. Tomorrow wouldn't be the busy day I'd envisioned. It wouldn't be filled with doing things with Linda, but it would be busy none the less.

I went to my condo and opened the door. Linda was watching TV. She smiled at me as I came in. I walked past her and just went to bed. I couldn't figure out why she was smiling at me so much. It came to me a few minutes later. She wasn't smiling at me, she was laughing at me. She was doing that because she didn't think I knew. Now, I understood why she'd been so fucking nice to me lately. It was all one big fucking joke to her. She'd ordered me to take out the garbage and I'd refused so she tried her favorite little game. She pulled out her "No sex for Stanley," card and I'd called her bluff. I guess It was my way of showing her that her sex as a weapon game couldn't control me anymore. She had to find some way to win so she decided to just do it behind my back.

On the surface, she was being nice, but on the inside she was probably thinking that I'd beg her to take out the garbage before she was done. Meanwhile, she was giving what she should have been giving me to someone else as another form of punishment. 

Yep it was one big fucking joke, but we'd see who was laughing when the punch line came.

That night when Linda came to bed she kept moving closer and closer to me in bed and finally rubbing her legs against me. I pretended I was so deeply asleep that it didn't wake me.

"Poor Stanley," she said. "You must really be tired. You'll never know what you missed. I love you Stanley."

Yeah, I do, I thought. I missed a chance at pity sex from a woman I no longer care about. And if this is your idea of love, fucking me after you been with some grease ball, I'll stick with people who hate me. They treat me with more respect.

I woke up the next morning and put my running clothes on. It was generally a little chilly in the mornings so I opted for running tights and a sweat shirt. Just as I was tying up my laces, Linda woke up.

"Stanley, you're awake," she said.

"Yeah," I quipped. "I do that every morning though I'm sure you wish I wouldn't."

"What are you talking about Stanley?" she asked. "I've loved you for over thirty years. Do you want me to make breakfast?"

"Nope, I'm going out to run," I said. 

"Why don't you run on your treadmill?" she asked.

"Because it's going to be a nice day," I said. 

"Stanley, we live in Arizona. Except for the middle of the summer when the heat is ungodly, they're all nice days. Isn't there something you want to say or do?"

"Yeah," I said. "See you when I get back." As I walked towards the door, she looked shocked. Suddenly some of the pieces started to make sense. Maybe Linda was laughing at me because she didn't think I knew what a whore she was, but there was something else too. Linda somehow knew about the bracelet that I'd bought her. Then I realized it, one of her big mouthed best friends worked at the jewelry store, so Linda probably knew about it before I'd brought the fucking thing home.

She might even know about the dinner too, because I'd talked to the jewelry store owner about my plans. Well, fuck her. She wasn't getting shit out of me. No wonder she had been so busy trying to give me some of her dried up old pussy. Now it made sense.

Well, Linda made sense, I thought as I ran but the whole Valentine's Day thing didn't. Men were expected to go out and spend ridiculous amounts of money on candy, flowers and jewelry, just to get the same thing we got most nights anyway. What was the point? To show someone that we loved them? Why not just say it? So does this mean that women don't love us? Or is it just that they're so terribly fucking insecure that we have to have a special day to prove it.

I wondered if there was a Valentine's Day card for people you didn't love anymore. Maybe I should make them. I could probably get rich.

As I ran around the park, I saw lots of other people out enjoying the sunshine too. There were walkers, skaters, bike riders and other runners. There were different classifications of each. Some were just meandering through the park more intent on enjoying the sunshine than anything else, but a few in each activity group were out for a serious workout.

It was fun just watching the people go by and imagining things about them. There were some really nice looking women out here, but most of them were far too young for me. I just wasn't the sugar daddy type. But in a way, I guess that was one of the things I'd need to start giving serious thought to. When I was done with Linda, what would I do? Shit, I was only in my fifties. Although I'm no spring chicken, I'm still young enough to get married again. But after wasting most of my life on Linda, I just wasn't sure that was even something I should think about.

I did a quick easy five miles, enjoying both the sunshine and pleasantly cool early morning breezes, but also I enjoyed people watching. I decided that from now on unless the weather was bad or I was nursing an injury, I'd run outside. There was no use trying to stay with or spend time with a woman who was cheating on me. 

  As I walked back towards my condo, I went over again all of the things I needed to do. I needed to see my lawyer about the divorce. I also needed to do some financial things. And lastly, I needed to start looking for another condo or a small house. I was going to either sell the one we were currently living in or just leave it for Linda.

When I walked back in the door Linda was cooking up a storm. She was acting more like it was Christmas than Valentine's Day.

"Are you ready to eat, Honey?" she asked. She'd put on a sheer robe with some incredible lingerie under it. There was a camisole like top that must've had a built in girdle because it squeezed her waist in. She still looked fat, but not as fat. It also pushed her sagging boobs up but that only served to make the stretch marks at the top of them more pronounced. She'd put on make-up and done her hair too.

"I'm going to take a shower and then go out for a while," I said. "Jimmy McDonald is retiring this week. I'm going to take him to lunch along with some of the guys at the plant."

"But Stanley, don't you remember what today is?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "It's Wednesday."

"Stanley today is Valentine's Day," she said smiling.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Happy Valentine's Day, but to tell you the truth, it kind of slipped my mind."

She looked at me crazily and then started smiling. "Stanley, do you think I should wear something special later on? I mean did you have plans to go out or something?"

"Nope," I said. "But if you want to go out you can."

"Stanley, I was talking about us going out together," she said. "You know like maybe to a restaurant or a show or something."

"Oh, that's an idea," I said. "But I think that maybe we'll have to wait until the weekend. All the good places are probably booked up by now because it's Valentine's Day." I went into the bathroom to shower and left her standing there with her mouth open.

After I got out of the shower, I dressed and got ready to leave. My lawyer, Ollie, was an old friend. I was sure that he'd see me without an appointment.

I could hear Linda talking on the phone in the other room. "Arlene, he's playing some kind of stupid game. I wish I could just tell him that I already know about the bracelet and the dinner. He's really enjoying himself this time. Yeah, I guess those little things are what spice things up when you've been together as long as we have. So I'll let him have his fun. Ooh, gotta go he's out of shower."

I waited for a few minutes and then loudly picked up my keys and opened the bedroom door.

I walked into Oliver's office less than twenty minutes later. His secretary, an attractive brunette looked up when I walked in.

"Mr. Hardy doesn't have any morning appointments that I know of," she said. "Let me tell him you're here." 

She got up and walked into Ollie's office leaving me to sit there and contemplate how youth was wasted on the young.

She ushered me into Ollie's office and asked me if I'd like any type of refreshment. I just smiled and told her I was fine.

I found Oliver inside his large office playing with one of those putting trainers.

"It's not going to help, you idiot," I said. "You can barely drive the ball 80 yards on a good day. Improving your putting isn't the problem. You need to work out and get some strength back into those arms."

"Shut the hell up Stanley," he smirked. "Just because you don't have a job, doesn't mean you can come over here and harass hard working people while they're doing theirs."

"Oh please, excuse me," I said sarcastically. "I didn't know I was in the office of Oliver Hardy professional golfer. I thought this was my crooked lawyer's office."

"So what do you need this crooked lawyer to do sir?" he asked, with exaggerated formality. He hadn't taken his eye off of his golf ball since I entered. He'd lined his shot up and lifted his club.

"Just arrange my divorce," I said, just as he swung the club. His shock at what I'd just said caused him to swing much harder than he'd intended. The ball rocketed across the floor, bounced off of the ramp built into his putting green and flew across the room. It bounced off of and cracked the LCD computer monitor on his desk.

"What?" he said. Oliver had been the best man at my wedding. He'd been to my house so often that it was almost as if he lived there too. He was my daughter's godfather and the executor of my will.

"God damn it, Stanley," he said. "Quit joking around. You owe me a new monitor. I almost had a heart attack."

"I'm not joking, Ollie," I said.

"But why, Stan?" he asked. He looked almost as bad as if it had been him who was going through it. "All marriages go through their ups and downs. You just have to make it through a rough patch. It'll get better. Anything beats the alternative, Stan."

"Oh," I said. "I thought watching her fuck the guy who does the maintenance for the condo complex out in the alley by the trash was as bad as it could get. So go ahead, tell me what's worse."

"Shit!" he said. "You have to get rid of that whore. I didn't know. Who knows what kind of disease she could give you. And I'm not talking about STDs; there are all kinds of scary bacteria around garbage. Shit. Whatever you do, don't have sex with her."

"So tell me Ollie, how do I get this started?" I asked.

"It's already done," he said. "You hired me. I'll start drawing up papers. We'll outline a settlement that's fair to both of you. Then we have her served and she gets a lawyer and we all sit down and work something out. Most of these things never go to court."

"What do you mean fair to both of us?" I asked. "I've heard bad things about divorces."

"Well, shit Stan, you guys have been married for what, thirty years?" he asked. "You'll probably have to split everything 50/50, no matter who did what." I looked at him like he was crazy. 

"Fuck that," I said. "I thought you were supposed to be the crooked lawyer. I could get that kind of shit from the internet. Stop thinking about this like BOTH of us are your friends. We need to come up with a way where that bitch doesn't get a quarter."

"Stanley," he said, looking at me.

"Oh alright," I said. "She can have a quarter, but no more."

"Stanley, that's illegal," he said. "Even in the worst cases, a judge would probably give her at least forty percent of your assets. A quarter is only twenty-five percent."

"No fucking way," I said. "You've got your numbers wrong. I was talking about twenty five cents, not twenty five percent of the money I worked my ass off all of those years for while she sat on her fat ass eating bon-bons."

"Before I'd give her that much money I'd just walk the fuck away. There is no way I'm going to pay her for fucking me over."

He looked at me like it was the first time he'd ever seen me. 

"Let's start looking for loopholes," I said. "Can I legally sell my condo?"

"Is her name on the paperwork from when you bought it?" he asked.

"Nope," I said.

"Then I guess technically you could. But if we did ever go into court over this, it could get really messy."

"Is there any law that says that two married people have to live together?" I asked.

"No," he said. "It is assumed that you would want to live with the person you marry but there's no actual law that forces you to live with anyone."

"Is there any law that says I have to divorce her?" I asked.




Garbage



"No, there isn't," he said. "But if you just disappeared, she could divorce you and then you'd still have to give her half of your assets."

"Okay, what if the condo was all of our assets and I gave it to her?" I asked. He shook his head and thought about it before answering. That was how we spent the remainder of the morning before breaking for lunch. My goal was to come up with a way to get Linda out of my life with as little of our assets as possible. It may have been wrong of me to want to do this to a woman that I'd lived with and loved for more than thirty years who would find herself homeless and destitute, but hey I'm human. All the way to my car I sang my new theme song, "If fucking you over is wrong, I don't want to be right."

There were a few things that Ollie and I had discussed other than getting rid of Linda. We'd also discussed what to do with Dino. Pain and suffering were on the way for him too, but the timing had to be right. If I handled Dino before Linda, then she'd know that something was going on. I had to move money around and make all of the financial moves before I served Linda and then Dino could be handled during the mop up.

On my way home, I transferred half of the money in both my savings and investment accounts into new accounts that didn't have Linda's name on them. I did stop by the plant and have Linda's name taken off of my insurance policies and I unlisted her from my retirement account. In our state, if I died, she'd still get the benefits unless I specifically excluded her in my will. The peon in the accounting office asked me a bunch of fucking questions about why I was doing it. I told him that she'd started a new business and was making as much money as I was so she didn't need it.

"There's no such thing as too much money," he said. He gave me a smile that made me want to choke the life out of him right then and there. Then he gave me a form that Linda needed to sign. I couldn't believe that shit. She actually had to sign a form to be taken off of MY retirement account. I was the one who dragged his ass into that plant for twenty seven years. Linda had probably only been there a handful of times during our entire life together. I just smiled at him and took the fucking form. 

I'd already decided how to get her to sign it. I had another form from Ollie that she needed to sign as well. That one put Linda's name on the condo as an owner. I'd given up the idea of throwing her ass out. I was going to leave myself. Only, since I wasn't giving her any money, she'd lose the condo and her credit would be ruined because she wouldn't be able to make the payments. Our condo was worth over a hundred thousand dollars. I intended to refinance it and take a loan for all of our equity out of it. Then I'd move out and leave Linda to her own devices. 

I was also going to make several questionable business moves that would lose the bulk of our cash and investments. I wouldn't start tapping into my retirement fund until I was 65 which would give me about 13 years. Hopefully Linda would be dead by then, just in case the law decided to give her a part of it.

As I drove back towards the condo, I was almost cheerful considering the past twenty four hours I'd gone through. I was smart enough to realize that I was still in shock over what was happening to me and that soon probably very soon the reality of the situation would hit me and I wasn't sure how I would handle it.

After locking my car in the parking structure I saw Dino looking at me. He had that little smile on his face that he always seemed to have. Only now I knew why. 

"Nice car Mr. Laurel," he said.

I ignored him and kept walking. Before I got to the condo, I changed my mind. I turned and went in the other direction and knocked on Dahlia's door.

She opened the door a crack after a few minutes. "I already told you, I don't have anything that needs to be fixed or looked at. If the situation changes, I'll call you. Please just leave me alone," she said.

"Sorry Dahlia. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," I said.

She opened the door further. "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Laurel," she said. "I thought you were someone else. Would you like to come in?"

"Not if it's going to be a bother," I said.

"No a friendly face is always welcome," she said. I walked into her apartment. She offered me a seat on her couch and told me to wait for a few minutes while she got dressed. As she walked away I decided to do something for her to help cheer her up. I whipped out the ever present iPhone and called the florist.

I told the woman at the flower shop who I was. She remembered me because my order had been pretty big, but also because whenever the occasion dictated it, I ordered flowers for Linda from her shop.

I asked her if she'd sent out Linda's flowers yet and she told me that I'd asked to have them delivered later in the day so they'd probably go out on the next delivery load. I asked her to deliver the flowers to a different condo in the same complex and to tell the driver that if he got them here within an hour there'd be a big tip.

Since the flowers were only addressed to, "the lady of the house," there was no need to change anything else.

Ten minutes later Dahlia came back into the living room. She seemed a little bit more relaxed, but still not herself.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Where should I start?" she asked. "Sorry about before. I thought you were that idiot Dino. He's always hanging around out in my hallway. He knocks on the door at least once a day telling me he needs to come in and check for all kinds of things. But he never finds them and when I ask others tenants, none of them have had their units checked for those things. I think he's just some kind of pervert."

She looked at my face when she brought up Dino's name. I guess my expression must have given something away.

"You don't like him either, do you?" she asked. 

"I hate that bastard," I said, harder than I wanted to.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "So you know, huh? I guess I should have said something but I stumbled onto them by accident when I went to take out the trash a couple of weeks ago. They were so busy going at it that they didn't even notice me. I just left my bags of trash outside the building. He's such a pig. And I can't believe that Mrs. Laurel would..."

"Yeah, there are a lot of things I never thought would happen, going on," I said.

"You seem so calm," she said.

"Only on the outside," I said. "Inside I'm a bowl of mush. I'm just trying to keep moving so it doesn't really have a chance to affect me until it's over and done with."

"When did you find out?" she asked.

"Yesterday," I said sadly. "Nothing's been the same since. The whole world seems different."

"So if you don't mind me asking," she said tentatively. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going for the big D word," I said. "Please don't say anything because I want it to be a surprise to both of them, but it's already in the works."

"But don't you need to find out why, she did it. Maybe she was forced. Have you thought about what your life will be like? When my grandpa died, it was like my grandma died with him. That was over five years ago and she's just really getting it together again. For a woman of her age my grandma is beautiful but she just couldn't imagine living without him. What will you do?" she asked.

"Nope," I said. "There was no force used. She was the one who started things off. At least that was the way it went yesterday when I saw them. And I'll do fine alone. I'm young enough to start again if I need companionship. But actually I'd be better off alone than forced to stay with a woman who doesn't really want to be with me. Or one who lies to me."

"I'm sure she loves you," she said. "Maybe, like a lot of women these days, she just wants something on the side. One of my girlfriends was engaged to marry a medical student. In about a year he'll be all done with school and get a great job with one of the hospitals. They've been together for over four years, but she hardly gets to see him. So on nights when she got really lonely, she uhm, went to someone else. I don't know how, maybe someone told someone else, but anyway he found out about it and broke off their engagement. She went crazy stalking him and trying to explain to him that it meant nothing. He had to get a PPO. Anyway, now he's dating a girl who works in the hospital's billing department. We heard that the two of them may be getting married soon and my girlfriend has just never recovered. She still loves him and keeps trying all of these stupid schemes to get him back."

"I guess these days love and sex aren't necessarily connected," she said.

"They are to me," I said.

"Me too, unfortunately," she said.

"That's a good thing," I said. "You'll be much happier in the long run."

"Oh I'm sure of that," she said. "I have another year and a half of school left. And as of last night, I have no way of paying my bills. Once my savings run out, excuse me, I'll be up shit creek without a paddle."

"What happened last night?" I asked.

"Mr. Laurel, last night I went in to fill out my paperwork for the new owners of the company I work for. One of the owners took one look at me and decided that he liked me or something. He made me an offer that I had to refuse. He was just gross. He's some greasy old guy in his forties with a big gut, way too much hair on his chest and a bunch of cheesy gold necklaces. When I said no, he pointed out that I could lose my job. I still said no."

"So that's why you were upset," I said. "What did you do for a living?"

She looked down at the floor. "No comment," she said. "It's not something I want to talk about but it's honest work and it's legal."

I looked at my watch. We still had about five minutes before the florists deadline was over. "I'm hungry," I said.

"Mr. Laurel, I could make us something," she said. "I'm not the world's best cook but I can make a lot of things."

"Actually, Dahlia, I was hoping that we could go out to lunch together. We could kind of share our misery and maybe put our heads together to find solutions to our mutual problems."

"I'd love that," she said. "I really can't cook that well. I try but I just missed out on the culinary gene."

I laughed when she said that. "It took years before Linda could cook too," I said. "She almost poisoned me a couple of times but I loved her so much that I didn't care." Just thinking back on it and remembering how much I'd loved Linda when we first got together hit me like someone had just stabbed me in the heart. I guess up to that point, I'd been only considering the bitch Linda had become over the years and not the beautiful young woman that I fell in love with all those years ago.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

"No, Dahlia," I said. "I was just remembering Linda the way she was."

We ended up going to a small Italian restaurant that was only a few blocks away from the condo complex. We had a pleasant conversation that took away some of my growing depression over what was going on in my life. I guess all of those old sayings about misery loves company can be taken more than one way. We were both miserable, but being together lifted our spirits. 

Finally, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, I drove us home. Just as I pulled up to enter the parking structure, I saw a teen aged boy drive in front of Dahlia's condo and hot foot it over to her door. We got there just as he was putting the flowers on her doorstep.

Dahlia's face broke out in a smile. "Let's see," she said. "I know these aren't from my grandma. So who could they be from?" She looked over at me and smiled. The delivery kid came back over to the door. "Do you want to sign for these?" he asked excitedly. Dahlia signed his clipboard and handed it back to him.

"Seems to me I heard something about a tip," he hinted.

"Seems to me it was supposed to be a big one too," I said. "What's the biggest tip you've ever gotten?"

"A thousand bucks," said the kid.

"You're a lying sack of shit," I said, causing Dahlia to laugh.

"Okay my biggest tip so far was twenty bucks," he said.

"I was going to give you fifty," I said. "But you were supposed to have these here two hours ago. The tip was if you'd gotten the flowers here within an hour of me getting off of the phone with your boss."

"Dammit," he said. "That was why she put your flowers in the back of the truck. They were supposed to have been delivered FIRST."

"And that's why you didn't get your tip," I said. His face immediately went into sick puppy mode. "But look at it this way. You got something far more valuable than money. You got experience. You learned the wrong way to handle the job. Now in the future you'll do things in a better and more organized manner. Experience is a good teacher."

"Wow thanks mister," he said sadly. "I'll run right over to best buy and see how many X-box games I can buy with experience. Maybe I can take my girlfriend out using my experience. You have a happy Valentine's Day."

Dahlia was smiling at me and sticking her lip out too. "Oh all right," I said. "But I'm still not giving you the fifty." I gave him twenty bucks and both he and Dahlia were happy. I actually felt good too. Dahlia had kissed me on the cheek and told me I'd made her Valentine's Day a happy one.

I stepped back into my condo at three fifteen. Linda was there and she was pissed. She looked at me when I came in. "Where were you?" she asked.

"Linda, I told you where I was going," I said. "I have some papers that you need to sign."

"Why do I need to sign papers?" she asked.

"Because Linda, I'm going to die someday," I said. 

"No you're not," she smirked. "You're going to live forever the way you run and work out. Your body is like some kind of machine."

"Linda, healthy men drop dead every day of heart attacks or cancer. They get into car accidents and all sorts of things. When I bought this condo, I signed the papers alone. I'm updating my will and noticed that your name isn't on the documents for the condo. If something did happen to me, they could throw you out of here and resell the place. Or you wouldn't be able to sell it if you needed any money for medical bills or any other reason."

"You actually think about what would happen to me if you..." she began. "Honey nothing will ever happen to you because I would never let it. We argue sometimes and most of the time it's about really stupid things, but Stanley, you amaze me sometimes. You really do love me don't you?"

"You'd be surprised by the amount of love I have for you, Linda," I said. I was sure that negative numbers couldn't go that far below zero without a special calculator.

I stuck the papers on the desk and Linda, as I figured signed them all, including the one from the plant I'd tucked in between the sheets of the condo papers. Linda had just made herself responsible for paying for the loan I'd taken against our equity in the condo and also had signed herself out of receiving any money from my retirement plan.

She'd only signed them so she could get on with her next set of questions. "So Stanley do you remember what I told you this morning?" she asked.

"Oh Shit," I said. "Linda, give me a few minutes. I need to go into the office." I went into our home office and opened up Microsoft Publisher on our computer. I looked through the greeting card templates and made Linda a Valentine's Day card. I made sure to spell her name wrong to really piss her off.

A few minutes later I went back into the living room. With the biggest cheesiest smile I could muster, I handed her the card. "Happy Valentine's day Honey," I said. 

She had the same expression on her face that she'd have had if she bit into a fried shit sandwich. Her mouth dropped open and she looked at me with a mixture of anger and confusion. "Who is Limdy?" she asked.

"You see. That's part of the problem," I said. "Five minutes ago you were sure that I loved you and now because my old fingers hit the wrong keys you're angry. Fuck this. That's why I hate Valentine's Day and all of those other Hallmark holidays. A guy just can't win." I walked into the bedroom and slammed the door behind me.

I got into bed to take a nap fighting the urge to laugh. A few minutes after I got into bed Linda cracked the door and looked at me. As soon as she made sure that I was asleep she went back into the living room and I heard her on the phone.

"No he hasn't given me shit, yet," she said. "Well... wait a minute. He did give me a half ass Valentine's Day card that looked like he did it in crayon. He even spelled my fucking name wrong."

"What? Hell no, I didn't get any flowers and he hasn't mentioned the restaurant. Are you sure your boss said he got us a reservation?"

"What do you mean he might be testing me? Oh I get it. He's trying to get me all pissed off and then he'll just bring out my gifts. Okay, two can play at that game."

A few minutes later the door opened and Linda got in bed with me. She put her arm around me and started to kiss me. I was horrified. But I wasn't going to be whorified. I rolled over in the opposite direction and mumbled, "Leave me alone...Tired."

She actually sat up in bed. "Stanley, are you okay?" 

She looked at me like she actually cared. Maybe her mind was just working. "There's something wrong here," she said. "This makes twice you've turned down sex."

"Linda, over the past month or so since we started arguing about it and you told me it would be a long time until we had sex again, I've started to focus on different things," I said. "There are certain things I want to do before I die and I need to start on the list. I guess I overdid the run this morning so I'm really tired." Her eyes got really big and she stared at me. 

"Stanley, is there something I should know?" she asked. "Have you been to the doctor lately? What is on your list? Maybe I could help you with some of them. How long do we have?"

Then it hit me. The silly bitch thought that I was dying and I'd made a bucket list. She came back in a couple of times during the evening.

"Uhm Stanley, you don't want to go out for dinner or anything, do you?" she asked once.

"Tired," I said.

"Stanley, Honey, do you remember what day it is?" she asked. "It's Valentine's Day and it's almost over."

"Thank God," I said. "Now things can get back to normal."

"Stanley, are we doing anything for Valentine's Day?" she asked exasperatedly.

"I already gave you a card didn't I?" I said. She slammed the door so hard the whole building shook.

She came back to bed at about midnight wearing a nightgown so thick I thought she was wearing armor. She stayed as far from me as the bed's dimensions would allow and tried to pull all of the blankets off of me. She was so angry I thought she was going to spontaneously combust. It was all I could do not to laugh. 

I woke up early the next morning and got ready to go out and run again. While I was in the kitchen grabbing a quick pre-run snack Linda marched into the room.

"Good Morning Honey," I said cheerfully.

"Stanley, where the fuck is my bracelet?" she screamed. "What happened to the restaurant and my God damned flowers?"

"Linda, are you high?" I asked her. "What are you talking about?"

"Someone told me that you'd gone into the jewelry shop and bought me a bracelet for Valentine's Day and got us a reservation at my favorite restaurant," she said. "But all you got me was that dumb assed home-made card."

I pretended that I was hurt and looked up at her. "At least I put some effort into the card, Linda," I said. "What did you give me?"

"I tried to give you what you're always begging for," she said.

"What?" I asked. "Let me get this straight. I'm supposed to spend almost three thousand dollars for a brand new diamond encrusted bracelet. Pay another two hundred for the custom inscription on the back. Drop at least three hundred dollars for dinner at that snooty French restaurant that I don't even like and then still spend a hundred or so on fresh flowers. I'm buying you all kinds of fresh and new things and you want to give me a fifty year old pussy that doesn't cost you a thing. How is that fair?"




Garbage



Her mouth was open again. But she didn't know what to say. "Linda, I'm old enough to realize that there's more to life than sex. There's especially more to life than waiting around and begging for sex from a woman who doesn't enjoy doing it with me or tries to use it as a bargaining chip instead of as a way to express our feelings for each other."

She wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come out. "So don't worry about it," I continued. "Since having sex with you is no longer a priority, you no longer have any power over me. So where's the reason for me to drop that kind of cash on you?"

Knowing Linda as I did, mentioning the price of the bracelet that she'd wanted only served to assure her that I had indeed bought it. She would probably tear up the house trying to find it, but she wouldn't because it was no longer in the house.

I stepped past her and went out for my run. When I got back from my run, I made a call and tried to arrange a job for Dahlia with a friend of mine who was looking for an assistant. It didn't pay much but she was glad for the opportunity. 

Linda and I settled into a very frosty existence over the next few weeks. I followed her when she took out the garbage a couple of times and caught her on my iPhone's video app. I figured that seeing her spread across the hood of Dino's car more than once would be more than sufficient evidence that out marriage was over. When I watched the second one I realized I'd need to film a third one because the second incident wouldn't help my case. It might actually hurt it. She was calling Dino Stanley. He didn't care what she called him and neither did I.

By the time that I got the third video, I knew that it was time for me to go. I'd moved all of the money out of all of my bank accounts. I'd found a new condo that was only two miles away and had bought all of the personal items I needed to make the place homey. I'd even had Dahlia over a couple of times. That was when she told me how much she enjoyed her new job. She also told me what her old job had been. My beautiful, young Dahlia had been a phone sex operator. Boy, did we have a conversation after that. Especially when I found out that Dahlia, who had seduced countless numbers of men over the phone and helped them get off, was a twenty two year old virgin.

That evening Linda got up to go and take out the garbage. As she grabbed the bag and told me, "I'm going to take out the trash," I smiled and said, "Bye."

"Jeezus Stanley," she said. "It's not like you care anyway."

"Linda, are you sure that you don't want me to take it out for you?" I asked.

"I can handle it Stanley," she said. 

"Okay," I laughed. That was the last I saw of Linda for a long time.

When Linda got back to the condo that night, I was already gone. I did leave a few things in places where I knew that she'd find them. I left a bag from the jewelry store in the linen closet. The receipt for the bracelet was still in it.

Linda did try calling that night and for the next few days. I simply didn't answer her phone calls or take her messages. My daughter called me and I spoke to her, but told her that I would not discuss her mother or the situation between us. When I look back on it now, I think that was a mistake. Because when things really got ugly, my daughter had to pick a side in the war and she chose her mom over me. It hurt me more than anything else because we'd always been very close. 

A few weeks later, when the first payment on the condo's equity loan was due, Linda found out that she was in deep shit. She had already discovered that I'd left her a whopping twenty four dollars in the bank. A dollar for every good year we'd had during our marriage. I wished that I could explain it to her but it would have to be one of those subtle little jokes that are lost when you tell it to someone else.

Linda tried to borrow some money from every friend she had. She even tried to borrow money from Dino only to find out that Dino had been fired. I was suing the company that owned the condo for the conduct of their employees. To keep everything quiet, they'd given me money to just go away. They'd also fired Dino.

When Linda went to Dino to try to borrow the money, she found out that he'd been fired but not why. Dino wasn't home when she went to his unit. Dino was in the hospital. Apparently several teen-aged boys who didn't live in our neighborhood had beaten the shit out of Dino. They'd broken both of his legs with a baseball bat and danced on his nuts while telling him that his dick didn't belong in married women.

Linda never discovered the extent of Dino's injuries; she was too busy trying to come up the money she needed to cover the loan payment. She ended up getting evicted. Linda kept trying to explain to the finance company that I was the loan holder. They explained to her that they had a contract that she'd signed taking over the loan and the condo. When she looked at the papers with a lawyer, he told her that she'd been a fool to sign them but that there was nothing they could do about it now. He begged her to file for a divorce and that way she could get part of our assets.

He set up a meeting with Ollie and presented papers with their version of the property settlement. Linda hoped that I'd be at the meeting so we could talk. Ollie explained to them that I was in a drug and alcohol treatment facility. It was true. Ollie had checked me in personally. Only I was there for a week long seminar to learn to deal with the stress in my life.

Ollie told them that I'd lost most of our money due to gambling and bad investments. He had all of the papers we'd bought that showed it. It had cost me ten thousand dollars for letters demanding payment from several casinos but it was worth it. Ollie explained to Linda that she was doing the right thing because when the casinos came after me they'd be able to try to get the money from her as well if we were still legally married.

Her lawyer brought up my retirement plan. Ollie brought up the paper that Linda had signed that took her off of the plan. Linda knew then that she was fucked. She signed a no contest divorce agreement to avoid having to help me off my debts and in three months I'd be a free man. 

Linda moved in with my daughter and her husband. That was how I lost my daughter. Amber really thought that I had simply gone crazy drinking and gambling and had simply run out on her mother for no good reason leaving her alone and destitute.

Linda was never quite the same after that. According to a few friends of ours who I kept in contact with, she sat at Amber's house and looked at all of our old photo albums constantly. She picked up a few more pounds and her life went on. I don't think she got over what happened and I'm sure that she never took any responsibility for it.

On the other hand, things were different for me. Though we'd never had the big confrontation that seems to drive so many stories about divorces, my life was fuller and more rewarding. I joined several volunteer groups and clubs. I had one group that was made up mostly of singles in their middle aged years who did nothing but travel. The group had a website and posted trips, destinations, costs and how much we saved by buying and booking the accommodations in bulk.

I also had my daily runs and work-outs. I had run several shorter races and won my age group in them. For now I seemed to be limiting myself to the 5K distance. I decided that maybe during the summer I'd try a 10K. But in the back of my mind I knew I wanted to run a marathon. It wasn't a case of if, or why, it was simply a matter of when.

My daily runs became more varied as well. I quickly learned that at my age I couldn't just go out and hammer it every day. My typical pattern became to spend the majority of my runs at an easy pace and do one or two harder days a week. Even what I did on those days varied. Some days I'd go to a track and do a traditional speed workout. Others I might substitute hill repeats for the intervals. Sundays, even though I didn't have a race in mind yet, became my long run day. I was very slowly building up my mileage.

Evenings were spent either lying around the condo watching TV or out just driving around exploring. I had a cleaning lady come in twice a week just to spruce the place up. She often cooked for me as well and there were a couple of times when she stayed over and ate with me. 

   She was a younger woman in her mid-thirties and she was also relatively attractive. We'd made those awkward eye contacts a couple of times and I was sure that there was the possibility of starting some type of relationship either purely sexual or possibly something else, but I never started anything.

  The way I looked at it, if I started something up with someone that I didn't love just to avoid being lonely or being alone, then there would have been no point to getting rid of Linda.

  Besides there is a very big difference between being lonely and being alone. I was alone, but I had more than enough people in my life to prevent me from being lonely. At this point in my life, I was alone by choice.

  But it just seemed like everyone on the planet except for me thought that was either un-natural or simply the wrong choice. Everyone I met always had a friend that they wanted to hook me up with.

  Over the months, Dahlia had become my best friend and chief defender. It had been her who put me back together when my daughter severed ties with me. Amber was still under the impression that I had simply walked out on her mother and left her penniless for no good reason. She also thought that I'd become a drunk and had a gambling addiction.

  I had lunch with Dahlia two or three times a week and we often had dinners together as well. We went to movies and did other things that neither of us wanted to do alone. There was nothing romantic about it. Dahlia was a beautiful young woman but unlike in the stories on the internet, our nearly thirty year age gap just didn't lend itself to anything romantic. She was like the replacement for the daughter I'd lost. And I was the father figure she'd never had in her life.

  One night while we were having dinner, it started. "Stanley, do you ever get lonely?" she asked me.

  "Nope, never," I said. "My life is so full that I never have time to be lonely. Plus when I want to go out and do something there's this wonderful young woman who goes to movies and dinners with me." 

  "Is she pretty?" she asked.

  "Pretty does nothing to even begin to describe her," I said. "She's probably one of the most beautiful young women on the planet. She's more like my daughter than the real one is or ever was."

  Her smile lit up the restaurant. "Stanley, do you trust her?" she asked. 

  "Of course," I said. 

  "Well, good because she's been thinking lately and she thinks that she has someone in mind for you."

  "Honey, please don't start that..." I began. "I don't need that from you too. I'm just not ready for that yet. I just got out of a thirty year long relationship that near the end was draining the life out of me. I had to get free to keep my self-respect. I just want to be happy being me for a while, okay?"

  "Well, when you're ready, you let me know," she said.

  A couple of days after that talk it happened. I was running in the park. It was one of my easy pace days and the sun was shining. I knew every step of the path in that park because I'd run there nearly every morning since just before my split with Linda. Over the months that followed that park had become almost a part of my home. I knew which trees I could hide under if we got a sudden sprinkling and even the perfect places to run my intervals if I was too lazy to drive to the track.

  It wasn't like she was out of place, because in actuality it looked like my park was her place. She was that at home there from the first time I saw her. She was one of those women who simply defy age. She was slim, but not overly so. Older women who are very thin have a tendency to look unhealthy or even skeletal. They look like they could break a hip just by standing up.

  This woman could have been anywhere from her early forties to her early sixties but she just had that healthy glow. Her smile to everyone she passed was addictive. Her body was incredible. Her legs were long and thin and she still had a nice butt. That is a rarity on women past forty. The majority of them either have a big giant fat ass that drips cellulite or no ass at all. Hers, though not big, was still very well shaped and very proportionate. It was, in a word, perfect for her body. Her breasts, again, while not large were very inviting. There was just enough of them to be interesting, but not enough to have to ever worry about them sagging.

  She had a heart shaped face that seemed oddly familiar to me thought I'd never seen her before in my entire life. Every lap I did of the park made her more interesting to me. Her workout was as eclectic as she was. She seemed to do whatever pleased her. Where I ran constantly around the park building up a good sweat and maintaining my fitness, she seemed to just do whatever pleased her. The first lap I ran, she was running and while not as fast as I ran, she had a decent stride and kept a nice pace. The next time I saw her, she was stopped in a grouping of flowers and seemed to be involved in smelling each one to see if they smelled the same. 

  The next time I saw her she was jogging slowly with another woman and they were engaged in an animated conversation. The next time, she was actually power walking and had an armful of the flowers from the edge of the small pond in the park. It was that lap that nearly killed me. That was the lap where she turned her head just a bit and smiled at me. I know that at 54 I'm too young to have senior moments but when she turned that smile on me, I lost track of time and space. I've never felt like that before. Not even one time in my over half a century of existence has any event done that to me.

  I ran off the path that I know so well I can run it in the dark with my eyes closed and right into a tree. Several of the people in the area were visibly and audibly laughing at me. I got up and started running again and a quick glance over my shoulder rewarded me with a sight that I still carry in memory. I simply loved the sight of her with one hand over her mouth to cover her obvious surprise. But the joy written in those eyes ruined me for life.

  She was maddening. There were so many things about her that simply made no sense. Her hair wasn't very short, or very long, but it had so much flare and life to it. It was like a page boy hair style that she'd allowed to grow until it just barely rested on her shoulders. And it wasn't exactly gray hair, it was a silvery white. Why the hell didn't she color it? Linda had started dying her hair from the very first gray hair she found.

  If this woman had died her hair she could have easily passed for late thirties. But it was as if she was proud of her years. Her face didn't have a single wrinkle on it and her skin was very smooth. And it wasn't just her face or her body, everything about her simply defied categorization. Even her work-out, if you could call it that. Again, I like most of the people in the park did one thing. I came out and ran. I did specific activities that were geared towards improving my fitness in certain areas like stamina or speed or strength. 

  She seemingly flitted from one activity to the next in ways that defied conventional wisdom, but their effectiveness could not be debated. It was as if her entire plan was designed to train not just her body but her soul. She sat in clumps of flowers or ran around with children as the mood struck her. And she rewarded everyone around her with those incredible smiles. I was sure that it would be worth it to run into a tree again on my next lap if she'd give me another one. My run was technically over but I decided to run an extra lap or two just to get another glimpse of her. Unfortunately, when I got back around she was nowhere to be found.

  I had lunch with Dahlia that day and couldn't contain myself. "What's got you so happy?" she asked.

  "Dahlia, I saw the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen, except for you in the park today," I said.

  Dahlia's eyes narrowed slightly. "No you didn't," she said icily. "Didn't you tell me less than a month ago that you weren't ready to meet anyone?"

  "Well...yeah," I said. "Dahlia, I didn't meet her either. I just saw her. She was just...I don't know, special. I'll probably never see her again. I didn't actually even talk to her."

  "So you run into some chickie in the park and now all of a sudden your salmon are ready to swim upstream," she said angrily.

  "Honey..." I said, trying to prevent the situation from getting any worse.

  "Don't Honey me, Stanley," she said. "I have plans for you."

  "What?" I said.

  "Stanley, I love you," she said. My heart started pounding. "I want you in MY life. I want you to settle down and have a life with someone who'll love you the way you deserve to be loved."

  This was a nightmare. Dahlia was beautiful but she was far too young for me. This was my life, not one of those stories where some old guy discovers some woman who's way too young for him and they end up getting married and living happily ever after because he's kind to her. When you read those stories do you ever wonder what the fuck they have in common other than love?

  Shit, I love my car but I'm not going to marry it. What do couples like that talk about? Let's see, the fifty something guy probably remembers Van Halen from when they were good. The twenty something girl, probably thinks of Britney Spears as oldies music and doesn't know that Madonna really isn't British. What the hell do they have in common? And what will they do in a few years when he can't get around much anymore and she is hot to trot?

  Then we get into divorce story part two, the second generation. That one starts out like I got out of a relationship with a cheating bitch. Then I met my one true love and we grew apart until she became a cheating bitch too. No thanks, not for me.

  "Dahlia, Honey," I said. "I love you too. But I love you like a daughter. You're just too young for me."

  Dahlia screwed up her gorgeous heart shaped face and her head went down. Her long, rich hair covered her face and when she looked back up she burst out laughing. She laughed for about five minutes straight and then looked back at me with tears running down her cheeks. It was a real blow to my ego.  

  "Of course I am Stanley," she said smiling. "I want you to meet my grandmother. She's a few years older than you are. But it's part of my fiendish plan to make the two most important people in my life happy. And you know what? I feel the same way about you that you do about me. That's why I really want things to work out between you and my grandmother, because that way you could actually be a part of my family. But you're already a part of my heart."

  Her kind words went a long way towards soothing my bruised ego. I told her that just because I'd been attracted to one woman it didn't mean I was ready to get into something just yet. But when I was ready to start dating I'd let her know.

  "Stanley," she said. "Until then you and I will still be going out on our dates though, right?"

  She smiled at me and it reminded me of something, but I couldn't think of what. I just nodded and smiled back at her.

  Over the next few weeks, Dahlia brought up her grandmother constantly and I continued to put her off. I just got this picture in my mind of some jolly fat old woman with a heart of gold. If you can imagine Mrs. Claus in your mind, you get the picture. She was probably as sweet as the day is long and about as sexy as a fucking teddy bear. I figured that with Dahlia being in her early twenties, her mom was probably in her early to mid-forties, which clocked granny in her mid-sixties to possibly her early seventies. Even if the Mrs. Claus analogy was wrong, there was simply no way. I mean shit, Betty White is sexy as all get out in her own way, but there was no way I was ready for that yet. I needed to find a way to break it to Dahlia gently.




Garbage



In the mean time, I'd been scouring the park every day but I hadn't seen my dream woman again. As a matter of fact my disappointment over not seeing her was beginning to depress me. Finally, I let Dahlia talk me into agreeing to meet her old granny. I figured we'd go out to dinner or something and afterwards I'd tell her or maybe granny could tell her that we each thought that the other was very nice but there was no chemistry.

  I had to go through with it though because this dinner with granny was all Dahlia wanted for her birthday.

  I made reservations at a very nice restaurant and got ready. The funny thing about it was that I was feeling a little down that day because the following day would have been the anniversary of my marriage to Linda. At least I didn't have to buy that cow a present this year. It was also hard for me to come to terms with the fact that nine months had passed since I divorced her and almost 11 months since the day I'd caught her fucking Dino by the garbage dump. I didn't often think about those days. I didn't know if it was because I'd put them out of my mind to avoid the pain or because I simply enjoyed my life more now. 

  I drove Dahlia to the restaurant in my Mustang. Her granny was meeting us there. I was well prepared for the meeting. I was ready to be polite and cordial. I did want granny to like me because I'd come to really consider Dahlia as my daughter. And granny was important to her. I didn't want granny to dislike me because I really wanted for Dahlia to continue to be a part of my life.

  Dahlia and I had sat down and had already ordered appetizers. She'd called her granny and found out, that granny was running late. Dahlia told me that the old girl's mind was still as sharp as a tack, but she had reached an age where she just didn't give a damn. She didn't rush. She just did things at her own pace. Today for instance, she'd been helping some people plant flowers and had simply lost track of the time.

  In my mind I was imagining some doddering, drooling old woman in the early stages of Alzheimer's. But I was determined to make a great impression on the old girl for Dahlia. Then the worst possible thing that could have happened...did.

  I was looking for the waiter so I could order a drink and I saw her out of the corner of my eye. There was no mistaking her. It was the woman from the park. I had obsessed over her for weeks and now she shows up at the worst possible time and place. What would Dahlia think if I abandoned her and granny? The woman walked over to the other side of the restaurant. Well at least I wouldn't have to sit here and stare at her while I tried to concentrate on Dahlia and granny.

  After only a few seconds though, I realized that I had a problem. I was dying to find out who she was here with. Was she married? Was she here with a guy? I had to find out. So I excused myself and went to the other side of the restaurant. I could always pretend that I'd gone looking for the bathrooms even though they were on our side of the room.

  I looked all around the room and didn't see her. I looked at every table. I was at the point of looking foolish so I went back to my table. I almost had a heart attack when I got there. The woman from the park was sitting in my chair talking to Dahlia. 

  "Uhm, excuse me," I said. "You're in my seat."

  She looked up at me and it happened all over again. Her eyes were some weird combination of differing shades of blue. I almost missed what she said because I was so busy looking at her.

  She was smiling back at me too. The next thing I remember was Dahlia snapping her fingers.

  "Is this going to be a problem?" she asked. "It's only a chair for crying out loud."

  Granny and I both looked at her strangely. "What?" I asked.

  "What the hell is going on?" asked Dahlia.

  "Language "D," said Granny smiling.

  "Sorry," said Dahlia. "But you two were acting weird and I want this night to be good. It's my f...it's my birthday."

  "Stanley, you came over and told my granny that she was sitting in your seat. She said that you'd moved your feet so you lost your seat. Then the two of you just sat or stood there looking at each other. I should have realized that this was never going to work out."

  "Run into any good trees lately?" asked Granny smiling.

  "I haven't seen anyone pretty enough to make me, since then," I snapped right back at her.

  "Ooh Boy," she said. "You're smooth aren't you?"

  "Okay what the hell is going on here?" asked Dahlia. I sat down in the chair next to Dahlia letting her grandmother have my chair.

  "That's better," said Granny. "Now I can get a look at the man my granddaughter keeps gushing over."

  "Now I see why you've all but charmed the pants off of her," she said.

  "Granny," hissed Dahlia. "It's not like that."

  "Then what is it like?" smiled Granny. No doubt about it there was something special about this woman. She had a knack for broadcasting her emotions so the person she intended to get them understood them totally. Her smile spoke volumes and it was intended just for me. 

  "What the hell are the two of you smiling about?" asked Dahlia again. She was confused.

  "Dahlia, Honey," I began. "Do you remember the woman from the park that I told you about?"

  "The skanky bitch that you went gaga over after only seeing her once?" asked Dahlia. "I thought you'd forgotten about her."

  "Nope," I said. "I couldn't get her out of my mind. I've gone back to the park every day since then hoping to see her again."

  "Oh shit," said Dahlia. "Stanley, why didn't you tell me it was that serious? I didn't know that she made that big an impression on you. If I did I never would have tried to arrange this."

  "He made a big impression on her too," said Granny. "Although not as big of an impression as the one he made on that tree." She started laughing again and I just stared at her. Her smile and the way her eyes sparkled were just captivating.

  "She'd have gone back to that park every day too if she lived in this city. She was only there that day to drop off a check and look in on her favorite granddaughter. But she found out that there was no need to worry because someone else was taking good care of her granddaughter. Someone had looked out for her and got her another job and even cheered her up when she needed it."

   "Are we all having the same God damned conversation here?" asked Dahlia.

  "Dahlia, your grandmother was the woman I saw in the park," I said. Dahlia looked at both of us over and over like she was trying to follow the ball at a tennis match.

  "So you two..." she began.

  "Like each other?" replied her granny, who was still smiling at me.

  "A lot," I supplied. The rest of the evening was magical. Dahlia's grandmother, Margaret and I got acquainted. We talked about everything we could think of while Dahlia just watched and smiled. I wondered how she could be a grandmother when she looked so young and she just smiled again.

  Linda at forty-nine is five years younger than I am and Margaret had to be much younger than Linda. Then I found out that Margaret at fifty six is two years older than I am. She told me the entire story of her life. She was married very young and had a child at twenty. Dahlia's mom had been a wild child and had gotten into trouble at a very early age. She'd given birth to Dahlia and had quickly run off and no one had heard of her since then. Dahlia had been raised by her grandparents. Six years ago, Dahlia's Grandfather had been killed in a construction site accident. Granny had been alone for all of that time since. She hadn't been out on a single date or even looked at anyone. She simply hadn't wanted to. Dahlia had been filling her head with stories about me and Margaret had decided that for Dahlia's birthday she'd at least come and meet me.

  Dahlia and I told her the story about my divorce and the reasons for it. By that time, the waiters were politely letting us know that the restaurant would be closing soon. Margaret and I were leaning across the table holding hands and Dahlia was grinning from ear to ear.

  "But we didn't even get to dance," I said.

  "We have plenty of time for that," said Margaret. "That is if you wouldn't mind being seen with an old lady."

  "If I had my way, I'd never be seen with any other woman for the rest of my life," I said. That brought on another of Margaret's incredible smiles.

  "Uhm Stanley, what about me?" asked Dahlia.

  Over the next few weeks Margaret began to travel back and forth between her home state of Tennessee and Arizona so often that she finally just moved in with Dahlia. Within a few weeks of that it was obvious that she wasn't spending hardly any time at Dahlia's place, so she moved in with me.

  If I'd thought that I was happy with my life after getting rid of Linda, it was nothing compared to waking up every morning with Margaret in my arms. I walked around so happy that I could have exploded at any second because my body simply wasn't designed to contain that much happiness.

  So you know what happened of course. Fate just decided it needed to shit deeply and largely into my cornflakes. 

  Margaret and I were walking hand in hand down the aisle of our neighborhood Kroger. We'd just moved into a small but cozy house on the outskirts of the desert. The area was perfect. We were only ten miles away from Dahlia by freeway. We'd been able to decorate the house exactly the way we wanted with a small pool and a deck out back where we could sit together and watch the sunrises and sunsets. We also had a big comfortable two person covered hammock back there for long comfortable afternoon naps. Life was good.

  So anyway there we were at Kroger. We were getting some things together for a barbecue. I'd grabbed a big selection of steaks and meats. Margaret had grabbed some salmon and also enough fruit for us to make a nice big fruit salad either as a side dish or just in case. Dahlia was bringing yet another guy home to meet us. We'd met a few guys over the past several months. Perhaps seeing how happy we were had spurred Dahlia to try to find some happiness of her own.

  She'd been telling us about this guy for a few weeks and she was sure that this guy might be the one. 

  A couple of hours later, with the grill already started we heard Dahlia's excited voice as a car pulled up next to my Mustang GT and Margaret's Mustang convertible. Dahlia ran back onto the deck and launched herself at me, all long legs and hair. Her grandmother's amused look was rewarded with a quick, "Sorry Granny, I just miss him sometimes."

  "Oh," said Dahlia. "Stanley, Granny this is..."

  "Carl Thomas," I said.

  "Uhm, Hi Mr. Laurel," said Carl. "I love your house. And I think I love your uhm...daughter." He let out a big gulp.

  "You guys already know each other?" asked Dahlia.

  "Yep," I said. "I watched him grow up. His older brother is married to my daughter Amber."

  "Oh shit," said Dahlia.

  "Language D," said Margaret. "Well...regardless of how anyone knows anyone else let's just have a good time and eat, okay." We all agreed. Later on as we sat back and enjoyed the evening. We watched the nearly indescribable beauty of the sky changing colors over the desert as the moon came up.

  "Mr. Laurel what happened?" asked Carl. "I remember growing up. You were one of the coolest fathers we knew. Now, years later, you're still that same guy. But my brother and Amber don't talk about you, ever. And Amber gets so angry whenever someone mentions you. My brother doesn't have anything against you. He remembers you the same way that I do. But Amber cuts his nuts off anytime he disagrees with her, so he doesn't say a word."

  I let out a sigh. I hadn't thought about my family in a long time. "Anytime anyone does mention the old days or things that we all used to do Amber launches into her "After what he did to my mother riff," and we just don't bring it up anymore. I don't spend very much time with them anymore because of that. It just seems like my brother is slowly dying, but he loves Amber so much that he has no choice, especially since she's pregnant now."

  I just shook my head. The good mood of the evening was gone.

  "Carl," I said. "I hope that things do work out with you and Dahlia. Dahlia is a much nicer, much better girl than Amber. Amber seems to be influenced by her mother already and as bad as it sounds for me to say this. The best thing for your brother might be to get him the fuck out of there. Sorry, Honey,"

  Margaret came over and held my hand. She nodded at me.

  "Amber sounds like she's becoming her mother all over again," I said. "If something doesn't stop this, she'll become a vindictive controlling bitch, just like her mother and your brother will slowly die just like I was in the process of doing. They'll argue over everything and nothing and he'll slowly lose every shred of his self-respect. She'll use everything she can to get her way and control him until their whole existence together will be one long fucking series of battles in a never ending war."

  "You think I seem happy now? Well you're right, I am. I'm far happier than I ever could have been if I'd stayed with Linda. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter and I miss her but she made her own choice. I tried to stay in contact with her. She took her mother's side and forced me out of her life, not the other way around. And Linda has apparently never told anyone the truth of why we got divorced. It sounds just like her to try to poison my daughter against me and let me take the blame for what she did." 

  "Carl," I said. "Do you want to try to save your brother from a life of hell?"

  "Hell, yes," he said.

  "Okay, next weekend I think that you should invite Danny and Amber out here for a barbecue. I think it's time that everyone knew what really happened. Don't tell them whose house they're coming to. You can just tell them that you want them to meet your girlfriend's family."

  During the week that followed, Margaret and I prepared emotionally for what was going to be a very stressful time. We had several long talks about what might possibly happen and what it would mean for us. 

  In the end we both knew that it wouldn't mean shit. Not for us anyway. No matter how things ended, I was happy with Margaret in my life. So happy in fact, that I dragged her into town and married her on the spot that Wednesday. There were only the two of us and Dahlia there. It wouldn't change anything because we'd been married in all but formality all along anyway. Of course, she did try to kill me with sex that night but she usually did anyway.

  The purpose of the whole barbecue was to try to save Danny from going through what I had. If it also served as a lesson in what not to do for Carl and Dahlia that would be even better. Finally, if it got Amber's head out of her mother's ass and allowed me to have my daughter back and maybe even be a part of my grandchild's life when he or she was born, that would be even better. There were only wins possible here because no matter how the evening ended, I'd still have Margaret and Dahlia.

  The morning of the barbecue, we got a frantic call from Carl. Everything was going according to plan, but there was a wrinkle. Amber had insisted on bringing Linda along too. If Linda couldn't come then Amber wouldn't come and she'd probably guilt trip Danny into not coming as well.

  I told Carl that it was fine. Go ahead and bring Linda along too. This whole thing was far overdue.

  We'd arranged it so that Margaret and I wouldn't be there when they arrived. Carl would be in the house with Dahlia. Amber and Dahlia had never met. Danny had never met Dahlia either. Linda knew Dahlia though, but we hoped that she wouldn't associate Dahlia with me.

  Everything went according to plan. Carl and Dahlia got everyone situated and started getting them comfortable.

  They were all sitting out on the deck when Margaret pulled into the drive way and went over to meet them. She apologized for my late arrival by saying that I'd had to stop off at a liquor store to get beer and other drinks.

  Danny asked about her Mustang and told her how much he liked it. She told him that he'd probably love her husband's car even more. Amber snorted and told him not to get his hopes up because they needed something far more practical.

  Linda, who had barely spoken asked Margaret about her bracelet. At that point I was just pulling up. No one noticed me as I got out of my car and started walking towards the group.

  "I had a bracelet just like that one," whined Linda. 

  "No you didn't mother," said Amber icily. "One of your friends told you that daddy had bought you one, but he never gave it to you. I think your friend was mistaken."

  "Amber, your father did buy me that fucking bracelet," hissed Linda. "He left the receipt when he left me. I think he just went crazy from all of the drinking and gambling."

  "Mother, what difference does it make?" asked Amber. "He ran out on you for no reason and left you alone. He was a selfish bastard."

  "I seriously doubt that," said Margaret calmly.

  "Just how the hell would you know that?" asked Amber. "Were you there?"

  "No I wasn't there," said Margaret. "But your mother was right. And Amber you need to look past your hate for a second. How do you really remember your father? Was he selfish when you were growing up?"

  "Well, he was great when I was a kid but maybe I just remember it wrong. If he was so fucking great why did he run out on my mom for no good reason? And what do you mean my mother was right?" asked Amber.

  "Because this was your mother's bracelet," said Margaret. She took off the bracelet and flipped it over. Amber read the inscription. "Linda after all of the years and all of the tears, love Stan."

  Linda had been battling depression for a long time. She was already on medication but hearing the inscription flipped her switch. "My bracelet, my bracelet," she started yelling.

  "How the hell did you get this?" asked Amber.

  "I gave it to her," I said. "I was going to have the inscription polished out and changed..."

  "But I asked him not to," said Margaret. "I wanted it as a remembrance of a very foolish woman who lost everything for nothing."

  "My bracelet," hissed Linda. "I want my bracelet."

  "Why the hell are you here Daddy?" asked Amber. "After the way you ran out on us you shouldn't ever show your face anywhere."

  "Amber, I never ran out on anyone, especially not you," I said. "I tried to stay in contact with you after and even during the divorce but you kept bringing up your mother and what she was going through. I finally told you that I didn't want to hear about her and YOU told me that if we couldn't talk about it then maybe we shouldn't talk. I kept calling you even then but you always hung up on me."

  "Daddy, Mom was so hurt," said Amber. "And you just disappeared on her. You never even told her why. And you left her broke and without even a place to stay. That was wrong. There was no reason for it. She loved you." Amber had tears running down her face. I held out my arms and just like a little girl she ran to me and hugged me.

  "You're still wrong for what you did Daddy," she said after a few moments.

  "Amber," I said. "We all need to sit down and talk. Carl, start the steaks. Dahlia, Honey you cut up the fruit and make some drinks while the four of us talk."

  "What about Mom?" asked Amber. 

  "I think maybe she should just lie down in the hammock," I said. Amber went and got her mother who was just standing there staring at me saying, "My bracelet." Her eyes were huge and unfocused. She looked like a fat version of Gollum.




Garbage Dump Virgin



Grace is a very pretty twenty-two year old Chinese girl who just graduated college a couple weeks ago and now lives with her fiancée. Actually Grace is more than your typical gorgeous college coed. She has the face of an angel. She's extremely pretty with a figure that made every kid at college wished they could have. She's five-foot one-inch tall, weighs only one hundred pounds and has a figure measuring 32-28-34. When she was in class many times she wore revealing mini-skirts showing off her gorgeous milky white slender legs. Needless to say all the young teenage boys would try getting a good look. 

Grace's story really begins when she was a freshman about three weeks into the first semester. Grace was walking back from the library to her dorm room. It was Tuesday and she didn't have any classes that day. As she turned the corner in the back of her building there was a garbage truck collecting the trash from the dumpster. Three men were tossing the bags and boxes into the back of the truck. Grace continued her slow pace across the paved lot crossing in front of the truck. As she approached she could see one of the men eyeing her up. She didn't think much of it as that happened to her a lot. But then he commented, "hey honey... you sure are a pretty little thing." 

The others glanced over at what their friend was seeing. "OOuuu!! Wow!! Look at her," this big burly guy chimed in. 

Grace was wearing a tight snug-fitting pullover top that displayed her pert breasts very nicely and a pair of skimpy elastic waist shorts. No wonder these guys took notice with so much of her smooth white thighs prominently exposed. 

The first guy walked closer blocking her way. "Hey honey... why don't you stick around awhile. I hear you college girls really know how to put out." 

Grace was getting pretty uncomfortable now. "How about it babe? Want to have some fun?" 

Please don't,... let me get by... Please," Grace begged. 

"Aww, c'mon honey... I'll bet a hot little thing like you knows how to handle a few hard cocks." 

Now Grace knew she had to get out of there. She knew what was on their minds. Quickly she moved to the side to walk by him, but felt her arm being grabbed. "Where you going? You're not going to pass up some fun are you?" 

"Let me go," Grace snapped back trying to pull away.

The garbage collector yanked her arm hard pulling her toward him and grabbing around her waist. "What's the matter. Think you're too good for us." 

Then he began dragging her to the truck. He pushed Grace up against the side of the smelly vehicle pinning her to it. "C'mon guys," he yelled to his friends. "We got an uppity little China bitch here that needs to be taught some manners." 

The other two guys quickly came to their friend's aid and held Grace's arms. Then this guy began kissing Grace. His hands began roaming all over her body squeezing her soft breasts and feeling the curves of her ass while he probed his tongue into her mouth. Then he pulled her shorts down and reached into her panties. Grace could smell the tremendous odor of garbage on this guy. And the idea that his dirty fingers were now playing with her pussy disgusted her. She struggled to get away, but the other two were holding her too tight. His fingers kept playing in the folds of her slit and squeezing her hardening clit.

"Hey, this bitch is getting wet," he exclaimed. 

Despite Grace's resistance to his treatment her pussy WAS getting wet. He kept teasing her clit rubbing over it again and again. "Nooo,... Nooo,... please stop," Grace begged. Her body was instinctively starting to respond and she couldn't help herself. The garbage man realized he was arousing this Chinese beauty and made sure that Grace knew it. 

"That's it slut. I knew you'd enjoy it. I know what you college girls are like." Grace really wasn't enjoying it, at least emotionally. She was being molested. But she just couldn't stop her body from feeling aroused from his touch. 

The garbage man kept fingering her pussy until she was moaning. "See, I knew you were a hot little slut. You're going to cum aren't you?" His fingers were rubbing hard through her pussy. The feeling was building and growing inside her, despite the fact that this digusting garbage man had his dirty fingers in her. Then suddenly Grace lost control, the sensation built to the point that she couldn't help it. "Ohhhhhhh.... Ohhhhhhhh.....," she moaned out loudly. She started cumming. Her pussy became soaked with juices. Her panties were wet. 

Then the man let her go. Grace quickly pulled her shorts up and stumbled away as the guys were laughing at her. She could hear them as she hurried off. "Thanks babe,.. we'll be here next week... will we see you again? How about a little blowjob?" 

Grace spent the next fours years lying in bed at night remembering what the garbage men did to her. All through college she didn't go on dates and refused any offers to go out. She remained a virgin. 

It wasn't until she graduated and met a nice young man that she finally allowed herself to be near another man. Now she lives with him. They're engaged. But she still lies in bed thinking about those men and the feeling she had. 

Grace's fiancée had to go away on business. She was going to have to be all alone since she didn't start her new job until the following week. But it was a good opportunity to fix up everything in their new suburban house. And Grace was so happy that they found a place in a rural setting.

On Monday morning Grace was up early. She wanted to get to the store for a few things. She dressed in a short black skirt with black stockings, a tight sweater and black high heels. Grace is a very classy girl and would never go out in public unless dressed appropriately. And that included wearing red lipstick and having perfectly manicured colored-coordinated nails. Besides, her fiancée enjoyed the attention she received looking like that. 

She had a quick breakfast and as she was cleaning up the dishes when she heard a garbage truck off in the distance. She realized she had forgotten to put out the trash for pick up. Quickly she grabbed the bags and walked out to the end of the driveway just in time. The truck pulled up and two men walked from the back. They saw Grace holding the trash bags and proceeded to take them. One of the guys, instead of tossing the bag into the truck, dropped it and simply stared at Grace admiring the small bulges under her tight sweater and her gorgeous legs covered only by her short black skirt. "Just move in honey?" He asked. "I haven't seen you here before."

Grace was getting flashbacks from four years ago. She knew he was saying something else but all she heard was a few words. ....Hot!!!... Sexy little.... pussy..." The other guy was looking right at her too as she froze in place. She was scared and shaking, almost in shock at what they were saying to her. She couldn't make herself move. 

It was like a dream when she felt a hand take hers and lead her toward the truck. The next thing she knew she was inside the garbage truck sandwiched between this big fat driver and a husky unshaven man with filthy hands. There was also a third man riding on the back running board. As the truck drove off their hands were squeezing her breasts through her sweater and caressing the flesh of her thighs as they pushed her skirt higher and higher above her sexy stockings. She began crying and pleading for them to stop, but she was afraid to resist in any physical means to push their hands away. So she just let them slide their hands up underneath her sweater and skirt. They fondled her tits. They rubbed her crotch. One man even slipped a couple fingers underneath her bra to pinch her hardening nipples.

"So you got a boyfriend?" The big driver asked.

"Uhh...," Grace paused for a moment. "Yes... I'm... I'm engaged," she timidly answered back between the tears.

"Really!... That his house?" He questioned further.

Grace just shook her head.

"I'll bet you two are screwing every night, huh? I know if you were living with me I'd be between your legs every chance I could get." 

Grace looked down afraid to answer and embarrassed at his comment.

"So do you? Hot thing like you must put out pretty good."

Grace softly whispered, "I've... never....

"What!!!", he yelled out. "You mean to say.... Oh fuck!... You're a virgin?"

Grace didn't answer again.

"Shit man, you hear this," he said to his buddy. "This bitch is a virgin,... yet she dresses like a damn whore." 

Then he mumbled under his breath but Grace heard what he said. ..."she's gonna be real tight once we open her up."

"How about that sweetheart? Gonna let us pop open that tight virgin cunt of yours?"

Grace looked at the driver realizing what was about to happen to her. He was smiling when he added his thoughts.

"What's the matter honey? Bet you never thought your first fuck would be some dirty garbagemen, did you?" 

Grace began crying again as she watched the truck enter the dumpsite and drive toward the far end. It stopped on the opposite side of two huge refuse piles. The husky man on the passenger side quickly got out and pulled Grace down to him. The guy who had been riding on back was watching as she stepped down. He was looking up Grace's short skirt as she slid down from the seat. Grace was crying and begging, "Please... Please... don't hurt me. Don't do this to me." 

The fat driver in the meantime had walked around the truck. "Shit man, I can't wait to have me some of this hot little bitch. I hear you Chinese girls really know how to fuck. Is that true?" That only brought louder sobs from Grace. She was petrified and didn't know what to do. 

One of the guys noticed an old mattress buried in some of the garbage. He freed it from all the debris suggesting, "this should do. The filthy little cunt doesn't need anything clean anyway. Do you honey?" And he patted Grace on the cheek. "She's going to be a dirty little whore for us. Isn't that right honey?"

Grace began crying louder as all three men huddled around her. The fat driver grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up over her head. "NOOOOO!!!,... NOOOOO!!!,... she screamed out. 

The garbage worker with the dirty hands slipped his fingers in the waist of her short skirt and yanked it to the ground. Then he peeled her stockings down her soft milky white legs too. Now she stood in front of these filthy men wearing only a bra and panties. "Okay honey. You may as well take them off too. If not we'll just ripped them off and send you home naked when were done." 

Grace was so scared she was crying hysterically. But still in her torment she understood what the man said. She thought of them driving her back home and walking back into the house totally naked. And what if they dropped her off someplace else and she had to walk through her neighborhood nude. But even with those thoughts she couldn't bring herself to unfasten her bra or remove her panties like they demanded. Never had she felt so embarrassed and violated as she did then. Her pretty body was almost completely exposed to these filthy disgusting men.

She felt hands on her shoulders as the big driver pushed her down on the mattress. When her knees impacted she realized how wet and dirty it had become from being covered in the smelly dump. It stunk as if it had been soaked in piss. Then she was pushed forward until her face was pressed into it. Hands were all over her. In a matter of seconds her bra was off and she saw it being flung away into the garbage dump. Then fingers were probing between her legs. 

She was then flipped over on her back and she saw all three of them with their trousers unbuckled, zippers down and their hard cocks sticking out between their legs. 

"OHHH, NOOOOOOO!!.... OHH, NOOOOOOOO!!!!" She screamed and begged and pleaded. The big fat man knelt between her legs. He grabbed her skimpy panties and simply ripped them from her body. "Guess we have to teach you what we want, huh cunt?" She saw his cock moving closer. It was easily ten inches. "Okay bitch, this is what we're here for... to give that tight little pussy some cock." 

While the other two guys held her down, he placed his large ten-inch shaft in the center of her tiny slit and lunged forward. 

"OOOUUUuuuuuuuUUUUUUuuuUUUUoooooo!!!!!" Grace SCREECHED out in a high pitch as his cock ripped into her tiny cunt. She could feel her sealed vagina break open. Her once sacred little pussy that she was saving for the one she loved was torn open by this disgusting beast of a man. He yelled out when he felt how tight she was, "FUCK!!...what a hot little virgin bitch. She's so fuckin' tight. Hold her down," he commanded his friends. 

Grace was struggling to get away as his cock plunged deeper into her pussy. The men had her arms and legs restrained keeping her pretty much spreadeagled on the dirty mattress. He fucked her hard and deep while she sobbed the whole time. She was devastated. She was helpless. Her precious body was being treated so savagely and she felt so used and dirty being fucked in a garbage dump. 

Then she heard the fat guy yell out, "Ready Bitch!!! Ready for your first load of cum in that hot little cunt?"

"NOOOOOO!!!!... NOOOOO!!!!!, she screamed out. "Not in me... PLEASE!!!!!!" 

He paid no attention to Grace's cries. He buried his hard cock all the way into her and began shooting his load deep inside her. When Grace felt his huge cock throbbing and his warm seed gushing into her body, her crying turned into outright uncontrollable sobbing. Her pretty body was violated. Her virgin cunt was being filled with a filthy stranger's cum. 

He pulled out. "Thanks honey. You got a hot little pussy. Let me rest a bit and we can go at it again." Grace knew then that it was going to be a long day. Her body was going to be their plaything for the rest of the morning and afternoon. 

Moments later the husky unshaven man was between her legs and a second cock started fucking her virgin hole. He kept ramming his hard shaft into her over and over. Grace had stopped crying at this point and just let him have his way. It was useless to resist. While one fucked her, the other two were holding her down. 

But then as he kept sliding his cock in and out of her, that feeling started returning again just like four years ago. Her body began taking over. Her pretty body was responding to the hard cock sliding in and out of her pussy. She thought to herself, ' Oh No... not again. Why is this happening to me?' 

Grace tried fighting off the feeling as his cock slid in and out of her body and rubbing against her clit. Then it felt like his cock was growing and penetrating deeper. She heard him yelling at her. 

"How do you like my cock slut? You like getting fucked?" 

Why were his words making her aroused? His cock was beginning to feel so good. She began softly moaning. "Ohhh,... Ohhhh..." 

He jammed himself in deep and she felt his cock ram against her cervix. That sent a giant wave of delight throughout her body. "Ohhhhh Fuck me...," she cried out. 

"Did you hear that?" The man exclaimed in an astonished voice. "She likes it. The bitch likes it." Even Grace couldn't believe those words came out of her mouth.

He began fucking harder ramming his cock in her. Grace was half moaning, half crying and feeling so ashamed that she was enjoying what this guy was doing to her. He began picking of the pace savagely fucking her juicy hole. His friends were enjoying it too as they yelled, "make the slut cum." 

"Do you want to cum Grace?" He asked. "Do you want my cum too? Tell me. I want to hear you scream out like a slut."

Seconds later, that is exactly what happened. Grace cried out exactly how they wanted, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.......Yessssssss... I'm......Cu...m........... .........OHHHHHHHHH!!!.......OHHHHHHHHH!!!!...... Fill my pussy... fill me with your cum." 

And her whole body began shaking as the second garbage man emptied his load into her cunt. She was having an orgasm lying in garbage with a stranger's cock inside her virgin fuckhole. 

Grace felt so humiliated that she was cumming. She was lying on this piss-smelling mattress in a garbage dump getting raped by three dirty disgusting men and her body was enjoying it. She looked up at the third man standing over her stroking his hard cock. She knew what he wanted. The words just came out of her mouth, "go ahead... fuck me." 

"Did you hear that," he commented to his buddies. "Now she wants it. Looks like we broke this little bitch." And he proceeded to fuck Grace stuffing his hard cock in and out of her cunt until he deposited his load in her too. 

When they all finally finished, they rested for a bit. Grace was stretched out lying quiet on the mattress. Her legs were spread wide open. It didn't matter anymore that these guys could see her exposed cunt. Cum was dripping out of it. She was dazed and partially in shock, yet being their sextoy was somehow so arousing. It was a feeling that she had enjoyed that one time before. She felt dirty, humiliated, used and liked it. What was wrong with her that she felt that way? 

She heard another garbage truck in the distance. It was getting closer. Eventually she saw it drive up and stop. And then a minute later another one. She looked up from the mattress and saw six more men admiring her naked body. The big fat driver quickly explained how they had picked up this girl and raped her virgin cunt. And now it seemed that she enjoyed having cocks cumming inside her. Then he offered Grace to them. "We were just getting ready to take her home, but if you want to fuck the slut go ahead."

It was a strange feeling that rushed through Grace's body when she heard his words. It was as if she were being sold. The men considered her as nothing more than a cheap slut.  

The six men didn't need another invitation. It only took a few moments for all them to have their cocks out and stroking them. All six guys grabbed Grace helping her sit up. Then one at time she had to suck their cocks until each one was rock hard. 

"Okay honey, spread them legs," one of the men ordered. "Let's see how tight you are."

One at a time Grace let them fuck her already used cunt. She didn't resist at all. She knew there was no point in it anyway. Besides, she enjoyed the feeling of a hard cock throbbing deep in her pussy. By the time the fourth man was inside her, she was loaded with cum. Her entire cunt was oozing with white cream even before his cock was stuffed in. But that didn't stop him or the next two guys from fucking her juicy sperm-filled hole. The last man even commented, "hard to believe this bitch is a virgin. Her hot little fuckhole is so loose and sloppy I'd swear she's been a nasty little whore for years."

When Grace heard those words she felt so incredibly used. She was a good girl. She wasn't a whore. But that's what they thought of her now. She knew she could never tell her fiancée about this. But what made it even worse was she was enjoying it. Maybe they were right. Maybe deep down she had a hidden desire to be a slut and it was just coming out now. After all, she was just gangbanged by nine men in a garbage dump. 

The six men returned to their trucks and thanked the others for a great fuck. Then Grace heard the trucks drive off. The other three were still talking about her as she lay there exhausted and totally used. "What a hot little bitch," the filthy unshaven garbage man remarked. "That cunt is incredible... and look at all that cum in her." And they continued. "I don't want to take her back yet, she's too much fun. 

Then the big fat guy knelt down next to Grace's face. "Hey bitch.... want some more? Did you like getting fucked like that?" Grace heard him but couldn't make herself answer. She wanted to say yes and that she did like it and did want more. 




Garbage Dump Virgin



"What's the matter? Afraid to admit it?" He asked. 

"How about we just play with that juicy little cunt?

Then he picked up a beer bottle that he found lying nearby. He placed the bottom of it between her spread open legs. He began twisting it against her juicy cum-filled cunt. Then he shoved hard working it between her legs until it disappeared all the way in. Grace moaned and grunted too weak to stop him. Actually she didn't want to stop him. She simply allowed him to use her cunt and jam that bottle inside. And it hurt. Her cunt was stretched so wide it felt as though he had split her pussy open. 

That started the other guys looking for things to use on her too. One guy found a plastic baseball bat, placed the big end on her pussy and rammed it in. "How's that bitch. Bet you've never been had anything like this?" Then he proceeded to fuck her with the bat shoving it hard in and out of her cunt. Every time it bottomed out she made this grunting sound as it impacted deep against her cervix. "Uhhhh,...Uhhhhh,..." 

The bat felt huge as it traveled up inside her cunt. When it hit against her cervix it sent a chill throughout her entire body. She had never felt anything like this. This guy was totally abusing her pussy, literally ruining her cunt, yet it was arousing her again and even more than before. And he could tell she liked it too. 

"You like getting fucked like this don't you?"

Grace just moaned out.

"C'mon honey, tell us how much you like getting fucked. Tell us you like having your pussy used like this. Say it!!! I want to hear you say you're a slut... and that you love being used like a whore."

"Oh yes...," Grace cried out. "Fuck Yes... Do it more... fuck my pussy hole with that thing. I love it."

It was hard to believe that a conservative young girl like Grace could become so vocal demanding that she be abused more. The garbage man was more than obliged to honor her request even though he had urged her on. So he rammed it in again... and again... savagely stuffing the bat up her cunt until it wouldn't go anymore. "So you like this, huh slut? You like being a filthy little bitch in heat?"

"Yes... Oh fuck Yes... I'm a dirty Chinese whore.... make me cum again... make me cum."

"Please!!!"  

He kept fucking her hard with the long plastic bat while all three of them watched her squirm on the dirty mattress begging to cum. They had turned her into a dirty whore begging like a cheap tramp. 

He began stuffing it in and out faster to get her off. Grace was screaming, "Yes... Yesss... Yessssss!!!!!... Oh Fuck Yesssssssssssssss...."

Her orgasm began as she bounced around on the mattress. "Look at her," they all commented. "What a filthy little slut?"

In the meantime the third guy found a big wine bottle and while she was still cumming pulled out the bat and rammed that in. He just wanted to see her squirm in discomfort. Grace was digging her nails into the mattress and groaning as he twisted and pushed until he stretched her cunt enough to force in that huge bottle big end first. Her orgasm seem to start all over again.

Grace was cumming so hard that she didn't see or hear the fat guy, rummaging through the garbage, yell out, "fuck look at this." And he held up a small plastic bag filled with dirty used condoms. "This must be from the porn shop dumpster. He opened the bag and started sprinkling the filthy used cum filled condoms on her pretty face as he commented, "I can see how much you love cum... here's some more slut."

When her orgasm finally subsided Grace realized how she had acted. Maybe these guys were right. Perhaps she did crave being a slut.

One of then men suggested, "you know what?" I'd really like getting into her ass." They all agreed. Grace heard them but didn't really comprehend what they had in mind. She was such a sweet darling girl. The thought of taking a cock in her ass was something never contemplated by her. 

The big burly man picked her exhausted limp body up off the mattress and carried her over to the rear of the garbage truck. He pushed Grace face forward into the dirty garbage chute, so from the waist up she was leaning inside the trash with her ass sticking out over the edge. The smell was so overwhelming she began coughing. Her pert little breasts were mashed up against the inside of filthy dump area and she could feel the slimy scum rubbing off on her body. It was then that she realized what they had said about having her ass. She felt one of them move up behind her and press his hard cock between her asscheeks. 

"Ohhh..., Noooo... not there," she weakly managed to cry out. 

"Awww, what's the matter bitch?" And they all laughed. "Sorry babe, but we just gotta try out that tight little shithole." And then she felt it. He pushed forward shoving his huge cock against her anal orifice until it stretched opened for him. Then he simply lunged forward and buried his hard shaft inside her ass. 

"AAAAAUUUUUUUUoOOOooooooooooouuuuuuuu!!!!!...." She screamed and cried and pleaded... "Take it out... Take it out... It hurts....Ohh... please!!!"

Without any concern for Grace, he began fucking her asshole. He rammed it in lodging his cock deep inside her cute rear end. Then he extracted it completely and stuffed it back through her tight puckered hole again and again literally reaming her asshole over and over. Grace was beyond rational behavior. Only moments earlier she had enjoyed having her cunt used. But now she was yelling and crying, begging for him to stop her anal rape. But they made her stay leaned over the garbage truck chute until all three violated her asshole and deposited another load of cum inside her rectum.      

Then they let her up. Grace who started the day looking so pretty was now nothing more than a used of piece of fuckmeat. Cum was running from her stretched open cunt. Her asshole was sore. One guy commented, "doesn't her pussy look bigger now? I think we stretched the bitch's cunt." Grace slumped down sitting on the ground in the garbage.

The three men got dressed. Grace slowly managed to get to her feet. She looked around but couldn't find her bra and panties. So she slipped on her skirt and sweater over her naked used body. 

"Get in the truck slut," they ordered. "We'll take you home. 

She sat between the men quietly listening to them. "We expect you here for us next week too. Do you hear me bitch?" The fat driver ordered. "You're our whore now. Our little garbage whore." 

The truck pulled to curb in front of the house. Grace got out. She didn't tell her fiancée about the rape. She wasn't even sure it was rape. It started that way, but she enjoyed what they did to her too much, even what what they did her ass now seemed exciting. And she felt so guilty about it too. She thought about what the garbage men wanted and how they expected her to be their slut. She planned to be there for them just as they asked, or was it demanded? She also was not going to tell them that she liked what they did to her. She wanted to feel raped again. She wanted to be used. She wanted to be their little garbage whore.

____________________________________

NiteWriter 

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Garbage Man



“My threesome is very competitive. Bill Johnson shoots to a three handicap. Ed Fitzgerald is a steady five, and I shoot to a six. I am Wilbur Ramsey. We play serious golf. A little money changes hands. We have been members at Pinehurst since we were all thirteen. We are thirty two now.

Last Monday at five after seven AM, the golf pro, Henry Dugan, came up to us at the driving range. “You guys have a tee time today of seven thirty five. Do you mind if I send a fourth out with you?”

“Please don’t send a talkative hacker with us,” I said.

“Trust me, she is no hacker, boys. She is a new member, that is also my student. She will play from the white tees with you. I suggest that you don’t bet money on your game against hers.”

“This, I’ve got to see?” Ed said with a laugh.

We were on the first tee, and from a distance saw a young woman begin hitting balls about ten minutes before our tee time. Could not see her that well, or see where the balls she hit landed.

When she walked towards the first tee, with her caddie, Bill let out a low whistle. “Whew, this gal is stacked.”

Then, I recognized her. Stumbling on the words, I said. “Damn, that is Kelly Morgan. The Kelly Morgan that plays on the Ladies Professional Golf Tour.”

As she walked up to us, she looked us over with a cool detachment. Her bearing was that of the professional that has been scrutinized by thousands of fans as she played her game of precise golf. 

I recalled looking at her statistics in the recent issue of “Woman’s Golf.” Her average drive was two hundred and fifty seven yards. Last year she had won two majors, and four other tournaments.

Her drive on the first tee gave us a sample of how the rest of the round would go. She birdied the first three holes.

Her concentration was complete. If one of us hit a good shot, softly, she would comment, “Nice, very nice.” Other then that, she was absorbed with her ball, the course, and her swing which was as smooth as it was powerful. 

On the sixteenth, Ed said to me, “A machine, a damn machine, a great damn machine.”

On the eighteenth, she thanked us. “I understand that you play four times a week at this time, could I join you for the next week?”

“We would be delighted,” we all said at once.

After she drove off, I went in to talk to Henry. “Hey Henry, we enjoyed your student. She is going to join us for a week. What is the story with her? Why is she here all of a sudden?”

Henry smiled, and waved me into his office. “Here is the story. She is a North Carolina gal that went to the University of Texas on a golf scholarship. Made All American. Married a guy just after graduation. He became a Delta pilot.” 

“She was away from home a lot at the professional golf qualifying school, and then when she made the tour. As you may recall, during her first three years, she did not play well, so made very little money. No private jets to fly her around, that is for sure.”

“Her husband became a cock hound, and was fucking every gal he could. Kelly got wind of it, and divorced him.”

“Right after her divorce, her game came together. The rest, as they say, is history. She has been coming to me to sharpen her game for three years now. To get away from her ex, she has moved here. She lives by her self. She is twenty seven, and is one of the loneliest people I have ever met.”

As he said that, Henry looked me squarely in the eye. “Wilbur, she needs a friend, a husband, but I will be one mad son of a bitch if anyone hurts that girl.”

“Henry, are you telling me that I should try to date her?”

“Well, you are the nicest guy that I know. You lost your wife a year ago. You know the game of golf, and your business runs itself. Maybe you could travel with her, be her caddie or something?”

“Holy jumped up Jesus, Henry, you are a damn matchmaker. Does she know about any of your fantasies? I own a fleet of garbage trucks. I’m a garbage men, for God’s sake. She is a super star.”

“Wilbur, you have know me for a lot of years. I play for keeps. Trust me, under that veneer of hers she is a hell of a woman. No, she does not know what I think of you, but when she knows that I sent you her way, she will take a look at you.”

I sat there shaking my head. Kelly had earned almost three million dollars last year alone. 

Wednesday, Henry met us as we walked off the eighteenth green. “Kelly, Wilbur, I want you to join me for lunch at a “The Magic Wedge” downtown. Kelly, you ride with Wilbur. I will take my pick up truck, so that I can do some errands later.”

Kelly stopped. You could tell that she was savvy enough to know that she was being set up to be with me alone. She looked from Henry to me, and her face changed from her game face, to a slight smile, and then back to that cold veneer. “Sure, okay, I will be ready in twenty minutes,” she said as she walked toward the ladies locker room. 

“Shit, Henry, you are a bold old man.” 

“I play for keeps, Wilbur.”

As we were riding into town, Kelly asked me what I did. “Well, I’m a Garbage man. I own a fleet of trucks that I contract out to several of the nearby towns to pick up their trash and garbage.” I’m nobody special, just an average guy.

Kelly stared at me for several seconds, which seemed to me to be an eternity. Then, her face broke into the prettiest grin as a throaty low laugh escaped her lips. Shaking her head from side to side, she said, with her eyes locked on mine, “Henry must think that you are one hell of a man, to have set me up with you. I’ll say one thing, You are the least pretentious man that I have ever met. An average man, that owns a garbage truck fleet?”

“Are you married?”

“Was. she died twelve months ago of cervical cancer.”

“Sorry”

After the meal, we had driven back to the Club so that Kelly could pick up her car. She wrote out her address. “See you at my apartment in thirty minutes.” That was it, and she got out.

I was one confused turkey. “What on earth was I to expect when I went to her place?” I went in to shower and contemplated what she wanted of me. I begin to sing Frank’s old song, “Strangers in the night.” 

The guard at the entrance to Southwind complex nodded when I identified myself, and said, “Miss Morgan is expecting you.”

What opened the door to greet me, was not the same woman I had seen at the club, not by a long shot. The game face was gone. With her hair down, and her makeup on, she was stunning. The low cut sun dress revealed what Bill Johnson had commented about the first time he saw her, “The lady is stacked.” 

There was a delicate aroma of fine perfume. When I was clear of the door, she pressed up to me, with her breasts firmly against my chest, and her nose touching mine. She gently kissed me first on one cheek, and then the other. She looked in my eyes, and then with her arms around my neck gave me a firm kiss on the lips that lasted for a minute.

So quiet that I could just hear her, she said,” Bold little devil, aren’t I?” 

“Henry has taught you well.”

Leading me by the hand, she took me to the living room. Sitting me on her couch, she sat next to me. “I’m going to take a crash course about Wilbur,” she said with a mischievous grin.

Here is the program; “I am obligated to play in the Buick Invitational in two weeks. I phoned Henry. He gave me an order to marry you and bring you on tour with me, as my caddie. Even told me that old joke that we should paint a big “W” on the side of one of your trucks and call it a Winnabago. Last guy I knew, I was married to, he drove one hundred million dollar jets, and now I’m making a pass at a guy that drives one hundred thousand dollar garbage trucks.”

“So, play with me Wilbur. Kiss me, thrill me, let me know what you are thinking, what makes you tick?”

At that moment, I wanted to cry. I was overwhelmed with her pure trusting innocence. “Super stars had to love somebody, but me, an average guy?” Sure, I was six three, and one hundred and ninety pounds. Sure, a lot of gals commented about my tight buns, and wavy hair, but I was an average frog in a small pond.” 

I kissed her. I was not thinking of her tits, or her pussy. I wanted to taste her, to hold her in my arms. I ran my hands over her hair, which was silky. There was a soft fuzz on her neck that turned me on. Her arms were firm, yet held me in an intimate embrace.

She nuzzled my ear, and blew softly in my ear. It was twenty minutes later, that she brought me out of my dream as she placed her hand on my cock, and whispered, “If you remember how to use that thing, I have a practice hole that you might find interesting!” That, of course, brought an instant erection.

Taking the lead again, she led me to her bed room. We undressed, and I saw that God, had been very kind to Kelly. There were no bad features. 

We snuggled for a while, and then she rolled on to her back, and openly said, “Its been over a year for me, I want you.”

I lay on her. She used her hand to guide my cock into her. “You are so gentle with me,” she said. “God, do I love your tender, soft touch.” Your voice is soft, and you have such a light touch for man of your strength”

My interest was in making love to Kelly, not in just fucking her. We would move for a while, and then just kiss. It was thirty minutes before, she begin to push with an intensity. There was no doubt that she was close, so I pinched her breasts and changed my thrusting. “Oooooooooohhhhooooooooooooooooooo,” the long moan was her signal that she was riding an orgasm.

She pulled and twisted my limp cock as we lay side by side talking about her family and mine. Finally, I asked her, “Kelly, would you mind if I mouthed your pussy?”

“Oh, please do. I would like that very much.” There was that mischievous grim again. I could feel the satin sheets as I lifted her legs with my arms, and split her legs so that I had a clear shot at her cunt.

The aroma, of course, was a mixture of cum, vagina juice, and her body smell from around her bush, which was hardly trimmed. 

If I have to die, I want to be licking her pussy when I do. I took my time, and started outside her lips, and worked to them, and them into her vagina, itself. By the time my mouth was locked on to her clit, and my finger was probing her G spot, her fanny was doing the dance of the “Orgasm.” 

She forceful humped her hips several times, as her moans told me that she had once again cum. This time when I entered her, I was more sexually aroused and fucked her hard, bring on her third orgasm.

We got up, showered together, and went down to the pool to sunbathe. Just before we got there, she asked me to stop, and turn around slowly. “You have quite a body on you,” she tossed at me.

“Your not chopped liver yourself,” I retorted.

As we settled into the lounge chairs, and each sipped on a Coke, she said, “Well, what do you think?”

Henry’s words played in my mind, “I play for keeps.” It was apparent, that Kelly, too, “Played for keeps.” This was the big leagues. It was my chance to be part of the big “Show.” It was not me that was scheming and plotting to get me on board, it was Henry and Kelly.

I put my feet on the concrete between our chairs, and looked at this woman, this Super Star, that for some reason that I did not fully understand was willing to tie her star to mine.

It was not a time to be timid. “Kelly, we fly to Las Vegas tomorrow. It will take us two days to get married. I will become your caddie on tour. We will buy a bus to travel and live in when you are on tour. We are both crazy, but I think that you and I will make it.

“Henry said that you were man enough to make a commitment. I like that in a man! Your on!” With that, she stood, and as I also stood, she kissed me. A kiss that I will never forget. The breeze blowing her hair on to both sides of my face, and her smell as the sun light played off her face.

Two weeks later, the CBS camera crew first showed the leader board on that Sunday. At the top, at twelve under par was the name, “Kelly Morgan.” The next shot was of Kelly standing in the fairway of the thirteenth hole. She had a big grin on her face, as did her caddie who was standing next to her, while they discussed the placement of her next shot for proper course management. 

The announcer intoned; “We are seeing a new Kelly Morgan this week. Look at the smile on her face. She has a new caddie, and he sure is keeping her loose. She and the other pros call him, “The Garbage man.”