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Amnesty

By: Lilith760



So we decided to go again. It had been more than two years. At other times, at other places it was fun and, "successful", if you will. We achieved our desires. Mine to experience the touch and feel of a woman or women, his to watch me experience the touch and feel of a woman or women. 

I wanted to continue satisfying his fantasies and mine but there had been rejections. There were husbands to deal with and there had been enormous pressure for me to participate (by my husband Tom). When the evening isn't successful he gets cranky. Once, I said I did not want to go back and he pouted like a boy who didn't get that toy truck for his birthday.

The time now, however, was right to return. Tom promised no pressure and to be cool. He promised just to enjoy our dirty dancing.

As we arrived at Club Amnesty we could see fireworks from not too far off Disneyland. The receptionist promised we'd find more fireworks inside (groan).

The theme for tonight's party was "Nighties". That is, we girls would wear our sexy pajamas, lingerie, bustier or some such thing. I brought my pink nightie as a backup but wore a sexy little number in while I gauged the crowd. It was a sleeveless blouse: yellow, lose, and plunging. It just covered what was necessary in public but clearly exposed the roundness of my breasts and invited hopes of more to be seen in a subtle slip . More than likely Tom would help the fabric fall away in a not so subtle exposure. 

After storing our stuff in a locker we scoped the crowd as we seated ourselves next to the dance floor. Only one couple was dancing, a May-December couple. She wore a thin material wrap-around-dress over well-augmented boobs. She was white and had dazzling legs with a tiny waist. He, though much older, was distinguished and handsome. They sat down in a dark corner, where he immediately got a hand-job and those tits, those wonders of modern science, also got a hand-job. 

In a more exposed section against the back wall another lucky fellow was getting his erection washed. His head back, eyes closed. Her head deep in his lap...I never did see her face. Couples and foursomes were spread out at the many tables throughout the club. 

Tom and I sat, chatted until something we could dance to came on. Alone on the floor we danced close, doing our usual twirls and dips. Tom squeezed me from behind, pressing my boobs together to make a tremendous cleavage. My blouse slid out just wide enough to expose only the slightest edge of my nipples. That's where I like it, just flirting with exposure. But then, as I warned you earlier, Tom exposed all by pulling my blouse to either side. I did not protest Others joined us on the dance floor now.

As we danced Tom again pulled around to my backside. His hand slid to inside my thigh. His palm open on my upper leg and his knuckle pressed on my clitoris. I threw my head back on his shoulder. We swayed as he rubbed. He kissed my neck and fondled my breast as I grabbed his cock. The bone in his hand stroked my slit. I shuddered. I was riding the wave toward a crash on shore. However, fear, the mind-killer took me over. People were watching and expecting! As that realization hit I straightened and turned. The wave pulled back to open sea and we continued to just dance.

In another time and at another dance floor I had rode that wave all the way in. The dance floor was packed and the music load. Ironically I felt much less self-conscious. Of course then it was a woman rubbing my panties, kissing my neck and fondling my breast. As Her two finger stroking became harder and more vigorous, I let out a siren that was not quite audible over the music. Tom, who watched from the sidelines, said that few others seemed to notice my orgasm.

Back at Amnesty there was a pole on the dance floor. Guess for what! Yeah you'll never see a guy seriously using a pole. 

Another couple joined the cast on the dance floor. She was pretty. Short blond hair, a blue halter top and nothing underneath it or her white skirt, I assumed. I was curious but cool. I wasn't going to be the one to approach. She went to the pole with her husband's encouragement. He was sort of accountant looking. He encouraged me to join her as she reached and pulled me over to the pole. I made a rather lack-luster attempt. Poles are not my thing. 

My performance was short. I made a few obligatory twists on the poll then returned to Tom. Surprisingly, she (the lady in the blue halter) soon followed. She sandwiched Tom between she and me. Tom enjoyed this immensely. We freaked danced. Ms. Blue-halter liked my hubby's thighs. Though they aren't big, they are tight. You can feel the sinewy muscle through his pants especially as he bends at his knees. She ran her hands along his thighs up and back on his ass, pausing to take them in. 

Breaking our rules Tom grabbed her hands and put them on my breasts. Again, I did not mind or protest. My boobs replaced his ass, I guess. Ms. Halter slipped the neckline of my blouse around the sides of my breasts. Tom pulled out of the sandwich and around to my back. I slipped her halter so that the wrap went between her breasts. I cupped her tits...yessss! I love that feeling filling my hands. We pressed together, nipples-to-nipples, my hands held on either side of our tits. She leaned back. I cupped her boobs somewhat clumsily. I admired her nipples, medium sized, round, reddish brown and sharply delineated from the rest of the breast. No fading into the whiteness of her skin but a high contrast edge to the aureole.

We French kissed, then, since we were both exposed, she dropped down to my nipples and sucked lightly, her tongue flicking their obtrusion. Tom was coming unglued. Her hand was on my pussy and mine on hers. She, as I expected was not wearing undies. I couldn't really find her clit so I ran the whole of my forefinger the length of her cleft. I inserted just the tip of my finger in her. She, pressing on the fabric covering my pussy, seemed like she was trying to enter into me with her finger(s). I was riding that wave in again, and again it pulled away as the music ended. We collected ourselves and off we went to our respective corners. Damn, my undies were soaked.

May/December got back up to dance. Her dress was superfluous. It clung to that young body like a vacuum packed hourglass. She must have thought the dress redundant too for soon it was lying on the dance floor. Her panties and fuck-me heels were all that was left. Her torso angled up from her tiny waist like an upside-down isosceles triangle. She raised her arms as she swayed and we saw the Bosu ball shape of her tits curve out of either side of her body. Amazingly, I never saw her nipples. Little guns I imagine. Like those on the assassins in Austin Powers. 

Tom and I relaxed and watched the crowd. Tom suggested I try on the nightie now. I went back and changed. It is pink, see-through, and reaches just below my butt. The bra cups you can't see through but they push up my boobs like a Renaissance barmaid. Now I had my own fuck-me heels on. We dirty danced a few more rounds.

The dance floor cleared. We sat. A young girl got up to dance with the other poll that was on a stage to the right of the dance floor. She was gorgeous. Cute with no fear, she undid something and her flimsy skirt slid along her butt and floated to the floor. As she stepped out of the flattened skirt she kicked it to the mirrored wall revealing the sturdy round porcelain cheeks of her booty split by a thong. The blouse...well I don't remember the blouse or how it came off. I was transfixed by legs and butt. Now though, I had something more to admire: tear drop shaped and firm were her medium sized breasts. No enhancement here...no need. Perfectly round nipples in similar high contrast as with Ms. Halter but somehow they blended at the edges of her melanin-challenged skin. She used the pole like a stripper.

There I was waiting for the departure of her thong when her boyfriend or husband burst in on my reverie. This guy was a car salesman, I'm sure of it. 

"Do you like her?" he asked. Stupid question. "Because she thinks you're hot!"

Oh, this night is getting better. Now I'm going to break the rules. He looked at Tom and said that he was a lucky man. Tom nodded, to indicate the statement was obvious. Now this is more like it. They want me!

I'm exotic half-breed. I have black, soft curly hair cascading down a ways past my shoulders. My skin is Pacific Islander. I have a narrow waist and round breasts with medium-to-dark brown nipples. Tom is white Anglo-Saxon, 6 foot, is average sized as US males go, but trim.

Mr. Car salesman continues looking at me, "She really wants to do you!" 

What's that mean? I don't care; I want to "do" her too.

Salesman grabbed a chair and took it over to the stage. He motioned to us to come over. Boy, oh boy, I want to go over, but I have to pee! I told Tom and he just laughed realizing the predicament. He said he'd join the salesman at the stage and feed the thong with money while I was gone. I started to go but turned around and came back. 

"This would break the rhythm wouldn't it?" I asked. 

So we both went over. 

I offered a dollar and told Tom to give 5. She took neither. She finally 86'd the thong. Yes! There it was, a thin runway of hair emanating up from that vertical slit of her pussy, mmmmm. She got on all fours and crawled over to me. She kissed my lips and inserted her tongue. Something about a kiss from a woman! I pressed back with my own tongue. I know guys get a charge out of this, but guess what, so do I! Passion filled me. She disengaged and dollied down. She pulled down the cups of my nightie and twirled one of my nipples with her tongue. She gently sucked it and moved to my other, now lonely boob. Her hands lifted my tits up and together. She released my breasts and dropped to all fours and we kissed again. I moved my hands inside her now standing arms and felt her breasts, their nipples pressing at the center of my palms. I was flowing!

We all stood up. Tom helped the pole dancer off the stage. She stepped down and embraced Tom. He fondled her. His hand ran down along her waist and landed on the landing strip. His finger slid the length of her slender slit. She gulped and grabbed his cock through his pants. 

The salesman wrapped around me holding on my butt. I twisted to watch Tom. Mr. Salesman's hand came up to my tits and his head went down. While he was sucking and fondling I watched Tom. Does he want her? Will he still want me? She's young, firm, soft and curvy. Tom has known me for 20 years and her not even 5 minutes and we've never even been introduced. No, he wouldn't leave me but he will perform for her. My jealousy, I think, was that I wanted to be where he was. Feeling those breasts and tasting that pussy.

The salesman detached and introduce himself: Jerry. His wife was Tina. Introductions were over and now on to the main event. It was time to be "done." We were boarding the train to the back room orgy and cataclysmic orgasm(s). I did not hesitate. If I was going to be "done" then I was going into it with passion. 

The first stop was the locker room. I still had to pee! Tina joined me in the ladies room whilst the boys undressed in the locker room and grabbed some towels. 

As we emerged I could hear the distant sounds of pleasure moans of the various orgies already in play. There was a buzz from a rather large vibrator you straddle. The woman on it now could have lit the block with her orgasm. I want to try it next time. 

We met the boys in the locker room and Tina immediately popped the question, "Can I bring a strap-on?" 

I hadn't had time to think, I was stunned. Now I knew what jerry meant by she wanted to do me. It was too much, too soon, to weird for me. I said no. Jerry asked if another could join in. She was waiting in the back room's entrance. It was ok with me. The more the merrier. She was big but pretty. 

We sauntered to the back rooms, Tina and I held hands and the towels around us. We peaked in to several rooms on the way to finding our own. We saw 2's, 3's, 4's, all sorts of bobbing, rolling, and bouncing in frenzied ecstasy. All were heading to the climax but none wanted to be there just yet.

We found a bed and spread out the towels. In the room with us but in a different bed was a woman impaled on her lover. Her climb to her orgasm was with little barks like a Pekinese but it grew to Great Dane level as she peaked. I was next!

Tina was definitely in charge. She put me on my back. Stared at my pussy and declared her intentions, "That is beautiful!" I trim it close but no bald pussy for me. Too juvenile.

She spread my bended knees and ordered me to suck Tom's cock. He was on his knees conveniently next to my head. I grabbed Mr. Happy and gulp him down. He was rock hard. Almost immediately I could feel the involuntary quiver in him. He was about to cum. I knew he didn't want to yet so I lightened up a bit.

Below I could feel Tina dive in. There was no need for her mouth to lubricate me I was already awash in a tidal wave of slippery wetness. Ooooh, that tongue! It circled, prodded and massaged my clit until I was shaking. I could feel the ends of her dark tresses slide across my thighs, caressing them, almost to the point of a tickle. 

So many sensations, cock, hair, tongue. I think somewhere in there she slipped in her finger or fingers. Something was definitely stroking the g-spot but I wasn't sure...and I didn't care. I couldn't concentrate on Tom's cock so I just stroked lightly with my hand while sensations were growing in my pussy.

I let go of Tom's penis. I tilted up and saw Tina's head mounted on me moving up, down, left and right in short shifts. She was flat on her stomach burrowing into me but I could see in the half-light that amazing ass. So did Tom. It was flat on the sides and round in the middle, like she was wearing tight jeans, but you could see through them. Tom ran his hand down her back, softly caressing that very tight bottom. He paused there a moment then continued. I could tell even from my vantage he slid a finger to her clitoris and rubbed in a typical masculine fashion. This affected her rhythm on me but she continued non-stop, she was on a mission.

I was building quickly to the inevitable. Tom recognized the sound of my whimpers and groans. He came back up to my tits, held one and sucked the other gently. 

Tina's hair caressed my thighs; her lips enveloped my perpendicular "lips". Her tongue flicked and swirled between my legs and her fingers (again I think) slid like a cock in and out of my vagina stroking my g-spot with each pass. 

It is at times like these I think I have Tourette's. Nothing...nothing can stop my shriek. The others in the room were certainly aware of what was pending. I shuddered and arched and then lightning struck.

No soft, slow climb and roll over the peak but a sudden surge like a rocket blast plastered my pelvis. The shock radiated out along my legs and up my torso. I think I gave Tom some of the shockwave as it exited through my nipples. Sparks came off my toes and lit the room. Tina, at ground zero, held on, extending the explosion for as long as possible. I think my growl-moan-scream could have been heard at Disneyland, over the fireworks.

The orgasm exhaled through my extremities. As I came down I realized I held Tina's head by her ears. I let go and slumped. If I thought there was going to be a moment for the afterglow I was mistaken. I motioned to return the favor to Tina as she rose to her knees from between my legs. 

She shot back. "Nope, I'm a giver." 

Tina lifted out and went for Tom's penis. 

Hey? Where's the salesman?! In all the excitement, I didn't realize he wasn't there. Ah, the other girl. They must have gone to another room. Soon though, he came in. I assume he heard my supernova. He stood naked, next to where my head lay on the bed. His penis was big, somewhat scary. It is wider than Tom's, maybe longer too. In a bit of an awkward position I palmed it with one hand and pull out his testis with the other. Tina stopped work on Tom long enough to ask if I liked it. I responded like a cheerleader, spontaneously and rather loudly, "I wanna suck it."

This was a statement as well as asking for permission (I can't believe I'm asking for permission from someone who is giving my husband head!). She turned back to T's cock and I took in Jerry. My mouth had to be a bit wider than I'm used to. I could taste the condom he wore for the other girl. Quickly, though, my saliva coated his cock from head to hair, the taste gone. This is the first time I've had a cock in my mouth other than Tom's since we started dating. Ok 2nd time...but don't tell Tom. My head bobbed horizontal while Tina's bobbed vertically.

My orgasm completely drained out by now. While I was at work Jerry palmed my breast. A slight squeeze and nipple twirl. He bent a little more and caressed my inner thigh. I opened and he fingered me. His forefinger slid out & up easily as I was still soaking. He circled my clit then pressed lightly but directly on it in. He played it like a button mouse on a laptop. It felt good, comfortable, like a back rub. Surprisingly, I wasn't numb or sensitive. 

I began to wonder if the salesman would cum. I enjoyed the fullness in my mouth for a moment then slid off. Now my tongue worked that little bit of skin just below the head along the shaft. It slithered in and out along that tuft while my hand, which was wrapped around his cock, pulled in an opposite motion. Then I slowly slid my wet, pursed lips along the head and snapped over the ridge until he was all in...or as deep as I could go. On the outward slide I stopped just covering Jerry's little-head, my lower lip on the magic tuft shifting laterally. Then I just stopped and sucked like I was draining the flavor from a Popsicle. My free hand held on to his butt. I felt it tighten and his body twist. There was an ahhhhhh which left his clinched jaw as I slid back in again. Was he going to cum? I'm not sure I wanted that.

Mercifully he pulled out while holding my head in position by my ears like I had with Tina. He rolled me on my back and positioned my pussy in-line with his re-established erection.

Tina also disengaged or was lifted off by Tom because he was on the edge. She asked Tom if he wanted to cum. He said not now. Tina mentioned something about him wanting to "splash" all over me later. She then asked if we full-swapped. Tom and I both said no simultaneously. Again we weren't ready to cross the line they were already beyond. I was hoping we weren't frustrating them.

Tom turned Tina over on her back, spread her legs and started doing what I wanted to do. Now his head was bobbing and weaving, his tongue ravaging her clit. I twisted myself over and suckled Tina's tits. She had wonderful nipples, round with subtle points. They felt perfect in my mouth. I held the far boob gathering it up to form a hump on her chest. 

While I was distracted Jerry found a condom and sleeved his cock. I felt the tip enter me slightly. I turned back on my back. Oh I wanted him to push in. Come on! Push! Now, before I have time to think. My pussy ached for his penis but my mind caught. Fear is the mind-killer. As his penis split my labia and cautiously entered I reached and pulled it out, tilted my pelvis and laid his cock on my clitoris. I pressed with my hand. Jerry understood and slid back and forth sandwiched between my hand and clitoris as if he was fucking me. OHHH I was on my way back. 

Some strange woman came in and took my place on Tina. Her much larger breasts spilled out over Tina as they kissed. Tom's hand was stuck between breasts. This vision plus the clitoral stimulation inflamed my thighs. 

Without warning Tina sat up. "I need a cock!"


Amnesty



I didn't believe it myself, well, not at first anyway. Even when I saw the evidence with my own eyes, I knew there had to be a logical explanation—I knew the real truth but I was the only one who believed that truth.

I don't remember much of what happened that night, only that Kevin was given a formal send-off from the ranks of carefree and single to those of wedded bliss.

For me it all started the week after Kevin and Amy came back from their honeymoon. After four months it still hadn't ended. Kate was going to get her pound of flesh from me no matter what the cost.

In a court of law I would have said, "Guilty As Charged", but I would also have thrown myself on the mercy of the court. Even some criminals get amnesty if they cooperate with the court and do whatever is necessary to make amends for their crimes. Didn't I deserve the same treatment? I hadn't killed anyone, though I guess what I did, or what was done to me—while under the influence—still wasn't a good enough defense. Leavenworth and even Alcatraz would have been a walk in the park compared to the prison she sentenced me to. 

For months, I held out hope for an early release because of good behavior, or for a pardon from the governor—neither of which materialized. I was facing life without parole unless I could convince the prosecutor to drop the charges. But she wouldn't listen. So, I cut my own deal and split. I was now free. Or was I really, and even if I was, at what cost?

We had reserved a few rooms at the hotel. None of us were driving anywhere that night. With an open bar in the party room we rented the alcohol flowed freely, and only two hours into the night I had already exceeded my normal limit. 

Take seventeen crazy guys, stir in an open bar, a few card games, add two strippers, and finally top it off with the video capabilities of their smart phones—and what you have is a recipe for disaster. And a disaster is what it became.

The last thing I vaguely remember was being in a beer chugging contest. I'm told I came in fourth out of five guys because my last swallow, instead of going down my throat, gushed out my nose when I ran out of air. I have never been much of a drinker and I know for certain that at sometime during that evening I puked somewhere, though even that memory is a bit sketchy. When the party ended someone must have poured me into one of the beds because I woke the next morning lying flat on my back in one of the rooms. For a brief moment I thought I was dead, or wished I was when I found it incredibly painful to even blink much less breathe.

The groom-to-be was still passed out on the bed next to me, and two others were camped out on the floor. Guess they hadn't made it to the other bed last night. It must have been one hell of a finish to the party. It's too bad I don't remember much of it.

I somehow managed to call room service. I ordered a couple pots of black coffee for each room and gingerly made my way over to the bathroom. Looks like I wasn't the only one who had made a deposit. There was vomit in the toilet as well as the sink. And the smell? Well, let's just say, what's in a person's stomach should stay in a person's stomach, and leave it at that. I cleaned it up the best I could, knowing guiltily the maid would have to do the rest.

I spent the next ten minutes in the shower trying to wash with the tiniest bar of soap on the planet, dropping it so many times I finally just sat my ass on the floor of the tub and finished. I flossed and brushed my teeth, my mouth still tasted foul. I needed coffee, lots of coffee.

One by one the zombies started to move, very ungracefully I might add. After last night it was a wonder they were still breathing much less standing, let alone walking. No one talked, I'm not sure if they even could, only it wasn't happening yet. 

With two pots pf coffee under our belts and another couple of pee breaks the dead were starting to come back to life. I called down to the desk and requested a late checkout. The girl at the desk laughed, saying she'd already put us down for one. She asked if we needed any body bags sent up—looks like we'd made quite an impression.

Thankfully, I'd brought clean clothes. Most of the others hadn't and were sorry this morning. Kevin was still out cold. I finally checked for a pulse just to make sure he was still alive. It was faint and slow, but he'd make it to his wedding next Saturday. An ice-cold washcloth on his forehead brought him back to life with a jolt like he'd been hit with a defibrillator.

"Guys, we've got to be out of here in an hour, so I highly suggest we get moving." Gary puked once more in the toilet for good measure. David stood there motionless gazing out the window with a cup of coffee in his hand, and Kevin finally sat up, putting the washcloth on the back of his neck. He refused coffee but thankfully used the mouthwash in the bathroom. It became my responsibility to get him back to his apartment this morning. Fifteen minutes later I was checking on the other three rooms, and like ours there were a lot of near death experiences.

Everyone was finally upright and moving, just not very fast or steady. On our way out I slipped the housekeeper a couple twenties and told her 'sorry.' In the car I left my window down while I watched Kevin buckle his seat belt, close his eyes, and go back to sleep. I just prayed he wouldn't get sick in my car.

At thirty-two years old, Kevin was the last member of our group to finally tie the knot. He and Amy had been together for three years, living together for two, when out of the blue he decided to propose to her. "It was time," was the only reason he gave. Instead of having this huge formal gala, they decided to have a small intimate wedding, limiting it to immediate family and close friends. They figured instead of blowing a ton of money on a huge wedding, it would be better spent for the down payment on a cute house they had their eyes on. They were moving on with their lives together.

Amy told Kevin to get everything out of his system on the night of his bachelor party, because seven days later he was hers forever. She wasn't a big one for drinking, refused to allow anyone to smoke in their apartment, and was going to try her best to keep a confirmed bachelor in line after the wedding. So Kevin was told he had one night, and one night only, to blow off some steam and get everything out of his system. And he did just that.

I don't know who brought in the two girls, but they were no nuns. Kevin sampled their wares at least once that night. The blonde had to be no older than twenty-two and the black girl maybe a couple of years older. They weren't bad looking, were built for comfort, and weren't at all bashful, if you know what I mean. I saw more than a few guys fooling around with one or the other, but I stayed clear preferring to eat the finger foods and take advantage of the open bar. There was no way I was going to screw up what I had waiting for me at home. Besides, I was having a hard enough time standing much less doing anything else.

Days later someone told me the bartender had put my drunken body in a chair at one of the card games. That answered the nagging question of what happened to the fifty dollars I'd brought to gamble with.

As I said in the beginning, alcohol and cell phones should never be used at the same time. People got crazy, videos were shot, and in the end a lot of people went brain dead and did things they normally wouldn't have done. Not me, I was way too drunk. So, after dropping Kevin off at his apartment I returned home, putting that drunken night behind me—I thought.

The wedding was informal and fun. Amy wanted it on the beach at sunset, but getting permission from the city got to be a real nightmare. When she was informed they would also need a police officer on duty, and it was their responsibility to pay the officer, the two of them changed their plans slightly. So, at eight thirty on Saturday evening, a week after the bachelor party, thirty-six people walked out onto the beach, held a quick impromptu marriage ceremony, after which everyone headed for a local restaurant where they had rented a room. 

The food was good, the party fun, and two hours later the bride and groom left for places unknown. Everything went off without a hitch.

When Kevin got back from the honeymoon a bunch of us guys got together. Some of the idiots showed everyone a few of the videos they'd taken. Kevin told them that it would probably be best if they deleted them. "Guys, it was one hell of a party, but I'm married now and I sure as hell don't want to piss off my new bride." He picked up his beer. "To Amy and my long and fruitful life with her!" he shouted, as everyone toasted his new wife and their future together. Life was good.

How the pictures and videos got around and on the net was anyone's guess. No one would admit to it, and it could only have been one of the sixteen other guys that were there. No, make that fifteen because I know I didn't video anything, and Kevin sure as hell wouldn't have done it. 

No matter who did it, or for what reason, the videos took on a life of their own. One wife saw them on her husband's phone and then another, and finally everyone at that damn party had to answer delicate questions as to what happened that night and who did what.

Kevin personally called and chewed out every one of us not knowing which was responsible.

"Kevin, do I have stupid tattooed across my forehead?" is how I answered his questions. "I was in no shape to do much of anything that night. If it were me though, I'd be asking those three guys from your work. I heard more than one guy say they always had their cell phone in their hands and were texting most of the night."

"Steve, I didn't think it was you, but I had to ask. Amy is pissed, not because I did anything, but what I did do was now out there for the world to see. She's getting advice from everyone who's seen them on what to do with me."

"Shit, I hope the two of you don't break up because of this." It was now totally out of hand.

"Not a chance. She told me I had a get out of jail card for that night, but I'll be on a short leash for quite a while. I've already been to the clinic to get a fucking blood test just to be on the safe side. It'll blow over for me, but there were a lot of other guys that have a lot of explaining to do. You didn't by chance get involved?"

"Thankfully, I didn't do a damn thing. Hell, I was so drunk I probably wouldn't have been able to do anything even if I wanted to." We both laughed at that.

"Well, I'm going to call a few buddies of mine and find out why the fuck they posted the videos on You Tube. Some people just don't have any common sense, you know that?" I agreed with him on that point.

A couple of the wives sloughed it off as their husbands being brain dead, others got mad, but the third group went ballistic. Thank God, I hadn't done anything. When Kate asked me about it, I said I'd done nothing. She smiled. We made love that night. Life was still good.

On Thursday Kate came home from work and asked me straight out if I'd seen the videos.

"No, frankly I haven't and see no reason to. I was there, so I think I know what was going on, that is until I passed out."

"Well, Laurie gave me a copy and thinks I should watch one of them in particular. You can't think of any reason I need to, can you?"

"Honey, I was a good boy all night, unless you count me over-indulging a little, that is. If you want to watch them, go right ahead. This way you can see for yourself what I didn't do." I was the one smiling, for now, anyway.

I was grilling a couple of chicken breasts for our dinner when I heard a lot of loud swearing coming from the den. The first thing I thought was that my oldest, Gary, was watching what he shouldn't be on Cinemax. I was about to read him the riot act when my wife blew by me saying something about me being a fucking asshole and a few other choice words I couldn't make out as she ran up the stairs.

"What the hell's got into her?" I wondered, walking into the den to see what had pissed her off. There, still running on the screen, was one of the videos from the bachelor party. I stopped it, backed it up about five minutes worth and started watching it.

Loud, that's the first thing I noticed as guys were shouting and staggering around the hotel room. Kevin was thrown on the bed by a couple of guys and he looked long gone, no wonder he had a headache the following morning. It looked like the party had moved from the hall into one of the hotel rooms. That's when I saw myself stagger into the room and sit on the bed next to Kevin before falling backwards onto the bed. Guys were drinking, laughing, and having a grand old time. Then things went to shit.

Remember those two strippers? When I saw them come in the room I got a little nervous. When the video panned on the bed, I saw me lying next to a passed out Kevin. I too must have been semi-comatose or totally passed out, I wasn't even moving. Then I watched as the blonde went into Kevin's jeans, pulled out his tool, and began giving him a blowjob, or trying to anyway.

My brain began to process what I was seeing. "Why would Kate get so upset seeing Kevin getting a blowjob? Hell, it was his last night of freedom, wasn't it?" I asked myself. Then I saw why she'd run upstairs. My eyes were glued to the screen as the black girl knelt down next to me, opened my slacks, pulled out my dick, and started sucking on it. I stopped the tape, backed it up, and watched it twice more. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was a lot of laughing as whoever was filming panned around the rest of the room before the video went blank. My part of the video lasted all of fifteen seconds but that was fifteen seconds too long.

Fuck, I went back once more and played it again. Shit! I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Then I got worried. I replayed that night over and over in my head trying to remember something, anything relating to what I saw happening on the screen. Nothing. I remembered nothing.

"What the hell? She had to see I was passed out." I said out loud as I played it again at half speed. My eyes were open but even at that angle anyone could see I was just staring out into space. Kate, I assumed, didn't see it that way.

I was locked out of our bedroom that night. I slept on the couch in the den. We don't have the luxury of a spare bedroom, and I sure as hell didn't want to sleep in our damp basement. I did, however, write her a note trying to explain what I saw in the video and slipped it under the door after knocking for the last time around ten-thirty. I played that damn video from beginning till end, hoping to see something that would show Kate how drunk I was. I was in the video only a couple of times, since I wasn't where all the action was taking place, I was kind of left out of most of it. Nonetheless, I didn't get a wink of sleep that night.

"I don't want to talk about it," was the only response I received the following morning while she made breakfast for the kids. I was running late and was basically worthless at work. I tried to get home early but got caught in a traffic jam and ended up being over an hour late.

"For a while I didn't think you were going to show your face around here tonight," was Kate's stinging statement when I walked in through the garage door.

"Look, I still don't remember a thing and sure as hell don't recall what went on in that hotel room. You had to see I was completely out of it. Hell, I didn't even move when she was, you know, doing what she was doing."

"Steve, I know what I saw."

"Kate, you know me. Do you really think if I was going to cheat on you I would have done it front of all those witnesses, and while people were videotaping it, for Christ's sakes? How stupid do you think I am? After dinner why don't you and I watch it together and I can explain everything to you."

"I thought you said you were passed out?"

"I was, but sometimes what you see isn't what's really happening." I was grasping at straws.

"I broke that DVD into a million pieces. Do you really think I'd leave something like that in the house? How about if Gary or Angie happened across it? How would you have explained it to them? When Daddy goes out with his friends, he drinks too much and has sex with hookers! Yeah, that would go over big with them, wouldn't it?"

"Kate, I didn't have sex with any hooker," I said for the tenth time.

"Just like Bill Clinton. You men are all alike." She didn't believe a thing I was saying.

"How about if I get a couple of the guys to tell you what really happened?"

"Like I'd believe them after what I saw everyone else doing? You must think I'm pretty damn naïve or maybe just plain stupid."

"Okay, how about if I bring the strippers to talk to you?"

"If I'm not going to believe you or your cohorts, what makes you think I'm going to believe two damn whores?" I was striking out big time. 

"Kate, you have to believe me!"

"Steve, I do not want to talk about this again. You've embarrassed and humiliated me in front of most of our friends. I can only thank God someone had the decency to pull it off the Internet. Can you imagine if your parents or mine saw it? Just drop it, I don't want to discuss it ever again, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," was my one and only reply.

You think this was the end of it? Much to my dismay, it was just the beginning. That night while she was getting ready for bed I walked in and started changing.

"What are you doing here?"

"Huh? I live here!"

"NO, I mean what are you doing in our bedroom?"

"Going to bed, what does it look like?"

"In here?" she immediately replied.

"Yes, this is my bedroom too, and if you don't want me in here, you can sleep in the den." There was no way I was sleeping on that couch again. It was damn cool in our bedroom that night. She slept on her side of the bed and I on mine. That's the way it went right on through the weekend. We were alone together in the house. 

I was thankful to go back to work Monday and see a few friendly faces. I talked to a few friends of mine and found more than one husband was in the doghouse, including two others who had been banished from their homes and were now sleeping in motels. I knew both of them had done things with the girls and had it coming to them, but me, I'd done nothing, well, willingly anyway.

I still maintained my innocence of sorts, and was lambasted more than once, but I wasn't backing down. It may have happened but I didn't remember it, though now I wish I did. If I was being put through the wringer, I should at least have had the satisfaction of remembering it.

This went on for the better part of a month. Our kids knew something was going on because on more than one occasion I heard Kate tell my son that Mommy and Daddy were fighting because Daddy did something really, really, bad. Thank God, neither one knew what it was.

I did everything I could think of to try to make it up to her. I cleaned, cooked dinner, washed her car, and even got the kids out of her hair whenever I could. I tried flowers, but she tossed them into the garbage, and when I gave her a gift certificate to a spa she ripped it up in front of me. I said the word sorry so many times it lost its meaning and became almost a four-letter word in her eyes. Looks like I was going to be in trouble for a while.

I was taking care of my sexual needs by hand, not having a clue what Kate was doing to satisfy herself. She had almost as high a sex drive as mine and must have been going nuts after going from three times a week to zippo. I tried to get friendly a couple of times, only to get frostbite when I touched her. I guess I wasn't forgiven yet.

I let it go for one more month. She was going out with her friends and I with mine, but when I suggested an intimate dinner for just the two of us, I got every excuse but the real one. I'd heard the words bastard, cheater, and asshole, among others for the last couple of months. My patience was wearing thin.




Amnesty



It was in the second week of third month when I walked into the bathroom and found Kate taking care of her needs with something long and silver that was humming. She screamed at me to get the hell out of there. I purposely delayed my exit for a few extra moments then turned and left. If it was possible, it got even frostier after that night.

On Friday nights Kate began stopping after work with a few of her friends, probably to compare notes with the other wives, and I suppose, to bitch to them about me. She would come home not drunk, but not totally sober either. When it went from getting home at seven to not getting home until after nine, I wasn't happy. Then when she didn't get home one night until almost eleven and was pretty drunk, I blew my stack because she had driven home in that condition.

It got ugly real fast, as all the past dirt was brought back up and thrown in my face again. That night I locked her ass out of the bedroom. 

She banged on our bedroom door on and off for about twenty minutes, waking our kids in the process. Finally she left. Where to at this point I didn't care. She probably passed out somewhere. Another night I didn't get a wink of sleep, this was getting to be a bad habit. Her attitude and oafishness towards me had finally reached its limit. I wasn't a hundred percent innocent, but God damn it, I was done paying the price. I was tired of living with the Wicked Witch of the West.

Kate was in rare form Saturday morning. She was sipping on a cup of coffee just waiting for me. I felt the icy stare on my back as I poured myself a cup hoping the conversation this morning wasn't going to get ugly like it lately did. I sat across the kitchen table from her, looked into her cold blue eyes, and gave her a full broadside.

"Mrs. Kate Moore, you have three days to make a decision. We can start talking and living like a married couple again. We can go to counseling to work out our issues, or we can separate and get a divorce. Your choice."

"Are you threatening me?" she demanded, sitting straight up at that moment.

"No, more so telling you the facts of life. I'm tired of living like this, and I refuse to any longer. So, I'm letting you make the decision, but I'm giving you only three days to do so." I remained calm. I didn't raise my voice and was as non-confrontational as possible, while still getting my message across. "I'm leaving the house this morning, and I am giving you until Tuesday at seven o'clock in the morning to give me your answer. Depending on what you decide, I will do what is best for me."

"You're shitting me, right?" she spit back. "You fuck around on me and now give me ultimatums? Steve, you don't have the balls to walk out that door." I didn't even finish my coffee, just walked over to the sink and poured what was left down the drain. 

She followed me up the stairs to the hall closet where I got out one suitcase. If she thought I was bluffing she was sadly mistaken. Throwing it on the bed, I packed two sets of work clothes and a couple of casual outfits for the rest of the weekend. I packed my shaver, deodorant, and other toiletries I would need, putting the rest of my stuff on top and closed it up. She stood there, mouth open, saying nothing. 

I carried the suitcase down the stairs when I saw my daughter and son watching us.

"Dad, don't go. Mom, tell him to stay," my son pleaded with my wife. I gave both kids a kiss and a big hug as they turned their attention to their mother who was just staring at me almost in disbelief. When I threw the suitcase into the back seat of my car, I turned around and looked at Kate. Nothing, not a bit of emotion was on her face.

The last word I heard was from my daughter was the word, "DAD!" Trying hard to control my emotions, I pulled out of my garage and onto the street, heading for the Red Roof Inn over on Twelfth.

I turned my phone off. I didn't want to hear any more of her tirades today. I spent the rest of the day sitting in my room, having more than a few cold ones, watching college football, and feeling sorry for myself. I was right, wasn't I?

Because I'd had a few too many adult beverages, I fell asleep and missed dinner. It was almost nine thirty the next morning when I finally woke up. I needed a shower and something in my stomach. 

I started second guessing my actions. They say you can't solve your problems if you don't talk—except we weren't even yelling at one another anymore. We lived in the same house and even shared a bed, but we weren't together. Did I overreact? Maybe I should have given her more time to get over what had happened, but after four months of hell I was fed up. What I really wanted was an immediate answer, at the same time knowing the one I'd probably get I most likely wouldn't like. She knew what she wanted and if not, she had seventy-two hours to figure it out.

I consumed everything that wasn't nailed down at the breakfast buffet. I ate all the things I've been told were bad for me and even had seconds on the bacon and sausage. I was almost feeling human again. 

Looking at my phone, I thought about turning it on but decided to give it a couple of more hours. Both parents knew we were having problems, and as much as I tried to minimize them, my dad saw through it. He had finally cornered me outside one Sunday and I gave him the whole story—what the video showed and my version. 

"I'm glad it's you and not me. Your mother would have made me a eunuch before I woke up the next morning." He laughed, I tried to, but it wasn't funny anymore. "I know Kate, she'll let you stew for a couple of weeks and then forgive you. Hell, if that's the worst thing you ever do, consider yourself lucky. Flowers always worked for your mother, and if that didn't chocolate and another charm for her bracelet did the trick." How wrong he was.

Now I'd moved out and was trying to figure out my next move. Let me rephrase that—the ball was in Kate's court, and all I could do was wait. I know, though, I couldn't be a patient man much longer.

When I finally turned my cell back on, there were two calls from my son, nothing from Kate. Was I worried? Hell, yes, but I think she thought I was bluffing and maybe I was a little. We just needed to get this off dead center and move forward or should I say back to where we were.

Sunday was the most stressful and boring day of my married life to date. I was tired of football and with work tomorrow I sure as hell wasn't going to get drunk, so I vegetated, made a few notes about how I figured we could get back to where we once were, and crashed early.

Thankfully Monday came. Glad to finally be busy because I would have gone nuts if I didn't have anything to do. I threw myself into work and never even broke for lunch. I was still going strong when my boss told me to get the hell out of there and go home to my lovely wife. That, my friends, wasn't going to happen, not that night, anyway.

A couple of guys asked if I wanted to stop after work for a cold one. So for the first time in a couple of years, I took them up on it. I had a great time. We tipped a few and even stopped for dinner. It was almost eight o'clock before I made it back to my motel room. 

I flipped through the programs on cable, nothing interested me. Tomorrow was my day of reckoning and I didn't have a clue what Kate was going to do. I flipped on my phone and saw that I still had no message from her. If she wanted to make me sweat she was doing a good job.

Sleep escaped me once again as I looked over at the bedside clock almost every hour.

By five thirty I was up, showered and shaved. I still had to work for a living but work was the last thing on my mind. I had a full breakfast in the downstairs restaurant and more than a few cups of coffee. With my cell phone now on, I waited.

Seven o'clock came and went. At seven thirty I checked out of the motel and went to work but only lasted a half-day. I checked my phone twice more that morning but got no calls from anyone. Why the hell was I carrying a damn cell phone? I'd received a call from my kids but that was it. I left work, drove around, and besides feeling sorry for myself and angry for the games Kate was playing, I started making some kind of plan for moving forward, alone.

I know she felt like the victim in this mess, but I was now feeling like a pawn and didn't like it one iota. I went brain dead before telling myself that two could play this game.

My first stop was our bank. I took out three fourths of our savings and checking, and the three two- thousand dollar certificates of deposit we had in our safety deposit box. I opened up an account at a new bank in my name only. If she wanted to play games, we'd play games. 

With her at work and the kids at school, I had the house to myself. Being gone only three days, it still looked the same. Even our bedroom looked neat and tidy. I found her stash of toys and lubricants and thought about coating them with some Icy Hot I had for sore muscles, then thought better of it. I packed two more suitcases of clothes I'd need for the rest of the week, making sure to leave my closet door and a few dresser drawers open just enough so she'd know I had been there.

I thought about leaving my wedding ring stuck to the counter top with one of our butcher knives. I figured that would get her attention but it would probably escalate it up too many notches, and then I'd have to pay someone to repair the damage, it wouldn't be worth it. So I took my house keys and left, I sure as hell wasn't leaving my house keys. I found a motel closer to work, checked in, and waited. 

Just after six-fifteen I got two hang-up calls and an ugly text. 

"You took all our money out of the bank, call me!" 

I didn't bother to return her calls. My back was the one that was up now. I had tried to talk to her for months and all I'd gotten was a cold shoulder. Well, I guess to her money spoke louder than flowers.

Kate texted me four more times Tuesday night, I never returned a one. Maybe she'd see what it was like to try to talk to a person who ignores you. I slept great Tuesday night and had a Grand Slam breakfast at Denny's before heading into work.

Kids play games like this, not adults, or at least they're not supposed to. Kate's phone calls, e-mails to my work, and text messages were relentless. I knew the kids were home from school by four so I called at four fifteen and talked to them both.

"Dad, I don't know what you did, but Mom's really mad at you. I haven't seen her this mad since you brought home that plasma television." I chuckled, but they didn't think it was so funny.

"Are you two getting a divorce?" my daughter Angie asked, and for once I didn't have a definitive answer for her.

"I hope not," was all I could say. I wanted to say I gave the bitch three options and she decided to take none of them, but I held my tongue; after all she was their mother. "Angie, worst case scenario I'll be home Friday to get some more of my clothes. Maybe by then we'll have figured something out." I was hoping since I wasn't as sure as I once was.

Thursday morning Kate's father, Doug, showed up at my office.

"Steve, I think this thing between you and my daughter has gotten way out of hand. She says she is going to talk to a lawyer if you don't put the money back."

"Doug, she does that, I'll make sure I spend every red cent of it on shit she'll never be able to get the money back from. Doug, I asked—no, I fucking pleaded with her to talk to me, but she choose not to."

"She says you cheated on her. You didn't, did you?"

"Yes and no," I replied, and then gave him the whole story, video and all. I was getting tired of telling that story.

"Look, I see her point and I see yours, but is it worth breaking up a marriage over?'

"Well, duh. That's what I've been trying to avoid, but Kate still isn't budging. She says I don't understand what I put her through, how about what she's putting us through? She doesn't believe me the way it happened even after I showed her on the computer it is possible. She's ready to hang me out to dry rather than to see it's even possible."

"Although her mother and I don't want to get in the middle of this, cooler heads will have to prevail, if for no other reason than your two children." 

"I couldn't agree with you more. It's just that Kate is hearing none of what I'm saying, and the longer this goes on the harder it's going to be to go back to the way it was before. I'm not going down without a fight, but I can only fight for just so long and then, well, you know what will happen."

"Steve, let me talk to her and see if we can come up with something you can both live with. If not, I guess it's her life and if she wants to screw it up, so be it." I was glad I had moved all the money I'd taken out of our joint account and hid it. It was the only bargaining chip I had left.

I was served with legal papers on Friday. They said I was to put back the money within twenty-four hours or I'd be put in jail. We both knew it was nothing more than an idle threat. My name was on all the accounts, and both of us knew that either one of us could pull out all the money in them. Even so, I decided to go home and call her bluff. What else could she do to me, have me shot?

I was talking with my two children in the kitchen when Kate walked through the door.

"Kids, go to your room. I need to talk to your father alone for a minute." Both looked at me like I was getting ready to walk the Green Mile.

"Steve, what did you do with all our money?" Looks like she hadn't mellowed a bit.

"Did your dad tell you what I'd do if you saw a lawyer?"

"Yes, so?"

"Well, I just came here to get the rest of my clothes, and to tell you it's all fucking gone. But if it's any consolation, I had a great time spending it."

"Steve, don't even joke about something like that. You took out over thirty-five thousand dollars. The money belonged to both of us. It was our retirement savings and part of our children's college fund."

"Kate, you and I most likely are not going to be together much longer, anyway. Hell, we're not even going through the motions anymore, and besides I probably would have lost it all in the divorce. Also, when I go into work tomorrow and give my notice there will be no alimony or child support. And, unless you can make the house payments solely on your income, more than likely the house will also have to be sold. So if you don't mind, I'll get my stuff and be out of your hair. Looks like we're both going to have a busy day tomorrow." I headed up the stairs with a box of black plastic trash bags.

She never let up while I packed what was left of my stuff. I figured I'd take everything over to my parents' house because there sure wasn't enough closet space in my motel room.

"You know I'm not kidding. I'll divorce you if you don't put back our money."

"I wouldn't put it past you, but right now I don't give a flying fuck what the hell you do." I'd finally hit my limit. I finished packing and started carrying all the bags down to my car. "Thanks for the last eleven years, three months and five days." I'd had time to add it all up—even had the number of hours if she'd asked.

"So you don't want to even try anymore? You're just going to walk out of our lives?" I finally lost it. "You really are one stupid bitch, you know that? I tried for four months to get you to at least talk to me. You constantly refused. I would have walked on hot coals to put this behind us, but you just wouldn't budge. I even tried to show you it was possible, again you wouldn't consider even meeting me halfway. By tomorrow I will be jobless, thanks to you, and on the road to who knows where. I just have no stomach for staying around here knowing my stupid ex-wife let it all slip through her fingers." With that I left.

I got fucked-up that night. I drank a six-pack of Corona and half a bottle of wine. I didn't have to work the next day, so besides getting an oil change, this town would see my backside by noon tomorrow. I think my anger was driving my actions now. Even though I thought I'd looked at everything with a clear head, I really hadn't for quite a while. Anger has a way of clouding your judgment; well, it had in my case.

When I went into work on Monday, my boss, Randy, wouldn't accept my resignation.

"Steve, relax, you've got three weeks vacation coming, take it all and call me after you get back." I told him I wasn't coming back, but he insisted that I call him when I got back. I think because no one thought I was serious, that in itself pushed me over the edge.

My parents and hers had told us to get our heads out of our asses and to sit down like two adults; it was way past that stage. I accept some of the blame just not all she was laying on me. By tomorrow night I will be a couple of hundred miles away.

Kate was sitting on the hood of my car when I checked out of the motel on Monday evening.

"Just sneaking out of town without saying goodbye to even Gary and Angie?"

"I'll call and talk to them when I get settled."

"How about us?"

"Kate, there is no more us, you saw to that."

"You're just giving up everything because you're too stubborn to admit you did something you shouldn't have? Look, here is my final offer. I'll meet you half way after you admit what you did. I'll forgive you and we pick up what's left of our marriage and move on. "

"I would if I did something wrong, except at this point what difference would it make? You'll never believe me anyway?"

"Steve, look at it from my perspective, would you have believed me if I'd come up with that story, and if you have video proof to the contrary?"

"At least I would have given you the benefit of the doubt instead of trashing an eleven year marriage." I threw my bags in the car.

"Even Kevin admitted that he fooled around with the two hookers."

"But did he remember getting a blow job when he was passed out?"

She didn't have an answer for that one. 

"Unless you've experienced it first hand you'll never believe me."

"Okay, we'll do it—at home—right now."

"Kate, don't play games with me."

"Steve, I'm calling you out on this, either put up or just fucking leave."

She didn't have a clue what she was getting herself in for.

An hour later we were sitting at our kitchen table with three bottles of her favorite soda wine.

"You're going to have to drink at least two of them. Are you sure about this?"

"I'm positive, but when I prove to you I'm right, I will need you to admit you were wrong and apologize to me. Then we can decide where to go from there. Agreed?" So it began.

My dad had picked up Gary and Angie from school so no kids were present as Kate started drinking her dinner. I thought it was stupid idea but once Kate got something in her head, there was no stopping her. 

The first bottle went down pretty fast, and though feeling the effects, she was far from where she was going to end up. At one and a half bottles she was beyond giddy and started to get a little sappy saying that she was sorry for being such a bitch. We weren't there yet. 

At two bottles she was hammered, yet still a little coherent. We were close so bottle number three was opened. I was sipping on a Corona and munching on a slice of pizza, one of us had to stay sober if this was to work. 

At two and three quarters, Kate was holding on by her fingernails. She was fighting to stay with us, but had pretty much lost her taste for the wine. She was there. Anything we did from this point on she'd never remember.

"Just chug down the last of the bottle. Then we'll see where we're at." She was looking a little green around the gills. I was praying she wouldn't get sick. 

"Bottoms up," she said, drinking the last of her wine.

Shocked, is what I was. She was still awake and somewhat coherent after three bottles, now all we had left was beer. I went to the refrigerator to get her one. By the time I got back, her head was resting on the kitchen table.




Amnesty



This had been a stupid thing to do. She could have gotten alcohol poisoning, and for what? Just to prove a damn point? Something I knew for a fact and one she wouldn't accept.

I carried her sorry ass upstairs to our bedroom. She was murmuring something, but I didn't have a clue what she was trying to say to me. I pulled back the covers and laid her down on the bed. She was almost asleep and close to passing out—probably both. 

I stripped off her clothes, made sure I won the bet the only way she would truly understand. I fucked her not once but twice. Finally, I wrote a long note on her stomach with a black marker telling her exactly what I'd done. I kissed her, told her I loved her, and left. I knew she'd never remember a damn thing, but I was still out of there. Without the trust we once had, all that was left was just an empty shell of what had once been something pretty damn good.

I took only as much money as I needed to survive for a while and gave the rest to my dad to give back to Kate. I might be pig-headed, but I'm not a total ass. I still didn't know where I'd end up. I just needed to get the hell out of there and start my life over—a life that now sucked the big one.

You've never really experienced winter until you've worked on an oil pipeline in Fargo, North Dakota in January. It's damn cold, the wind always seems to be blowing, and there isn't a friggin thing to do unless ice fishing or snowmobiling interests you.  

Sometimes it isn't what you know, it's who you know. My office skills are the same as a million other guys out there, which meant just picking up another job wasn't going to happen. A long time friend of my father's is connected to the oil industry. After leaving Kate I gave Greg a call. I needed both his help and his silence.

With no experience I couldn't get a job on the Alaskan pipeline, and working out in the Atlantic on an oilrig looked like cruel and inhumane punishment—so Fargo was my next choice. The money wasn't bad, not as much as I was making before, but I answered to no one except the field supervisor. 

I rented a small room complete with a tiny kitchen and even smaller bathroom. I ate most meals out, and sent about thirty percent of what I made to my dad for my two children, not Kate. I mailed them cards and letters, wishing I'd brought my laptop from home so I could have also sent e-mails. Maybe I'd have my dad pick it up from the house and send it to me. 

My parents kept me updated and sent pictures of my two children, which they took when they stopped over at the house for a visit. Cards were exchanged, hugs passed on. Though my parents knew where I was I had made them promise me that Kate wasn't to be given that information. I figured I was most likely already divorced for abandonment, but neither my mother or father ever mentioned it, nor did they forward me any papers, or tell me anything else about her, only about Gary and Angie.

Although life was hard, I felt good about myself for the first time in a long while. I was doing something I thought I could never physically do, and was probably in the best shape of my life—well, since I was in my early twenties, anyway. I didn't even bother to cut my hair on my head or on my face. After a year my hair had grown completely out, and I sported a great looking beard. I had an ulterior motive for the beard, hoping a little extra facial hair would help keep my face a little warmer.

I worked for twelve straight months when I decided I needed a break. 

"I'm coming home soon for a short visit, please tell no one," were the only instructions I left for my mom and dad. I made it back on Thursday just before midnight and had a little reunion with my parents until about three in the morning, when I couldn't keep my eyes open another second. After being on the road for over sixteen hours, sleep was what I most needed. 

My mother stuck her head in my room at noon to tell me lunch was on the table. I needed to shower and dress and to get my ass downstairs. I never argued with my mother.

With my hair pulled back in a pony tail and dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, I looked nothing like the businessman I used to be. I looked in the mirror and thought I should be riding a Harley instead of driving the four-door Kia I'd left in thirteen months ago. With over a year under my belt working the pipeline, I figured when I decided to return, I could probably sign on with a more experienced crew, and make a lot more money.

Thirty seconds after my feet hit the kitchen floor I had two kids hanging onto my waist. Hugs and kisses were given. Tears were shed and finally apologies choked out. If they were still mad at me they didn't show it.

Lunch was on the table and stories and experiences were exchanged. I never brought up their mother and neither did they. Even though I kind of wanted to know how she was doing, I was afraid to ask. I'd been with a few women in the last year, they were there solely to satisfy a need and that was all. Maybe I'd stop by and say hello before I left again.

"Dad, you don't look anything like you did when you left," Gary said, stuffing his face. 

"I like the way he looks," Angie added her opinion. "He looks like one of those lumberjacks you see on TV."

"Kids, where I was, it was no television show, that I can promise you. By the way, how's your mother doing?" There, I'd said it, and by the look on everyone's face maybe I shouldn't have brought her up.

"She's fine, still working at the same place as before." That told me jack shit.

"Dad, did you tell her I'm home for a visit?"

"Son, the kids are here, aren't they? How could she not know?" Okay, it was a stupid question and since no one was telling me what I wanted, I let it drop.

I spent a wonderful afternoon with my children. They were sticking to me like glue; almost afraid if they didn't I'd disappear again. When Dad told me he had to take them home, they weren't happy.

"Why don't you come home with us? You can see Mom and have dinner with us."

"Guys, if I know one thing for certain, I know I'm the last person in the world your mother wants to see. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere for a while. Besides, I still need to get the rest of my tools out of the garage at the house before I leave." I couldn't read the look they gave me, but it had been a long thirteen months, and I would need to learn all over again how to talk to kids.

After my dad left with my children I confronted my mom. "Mom, no bull shit, how are they doing?" 

"Things were a little tense for a while and there was more than enough anger to go around. Your dad was on everyone's shit list for months. Finally they realized it wasn't all your fault. Kate did take it pretty hard, though."

"Good!"

"Stephen Moore, what a rotten thing to say!" my mother reprimanded me, taking me to task.

"Mom, it didn't have to be this way, she just wouldn't give me a fucking break. She was the one that drove me away. I'm sorry for my kids, not for Kate." My mom was giving me the Christian evil eye. "It's not like I wish her ill, but she killed our marriage, not me."

My mother was not letting it go. "The good book says Jesus forgave the men that nailed him to the cross." She pointed her index finger at me. "And you can't forgive a stupid woman who overreacted and made a few mistakes in judgment?"

"Mom, I've asked myself that very question every night for the last year, I never came up with a good answer. At least she knew before I left that something can happen without you even remembering it." I let it drop and at that point, so did she.

I took a turn around town on Saturday catching up with a few friends. No one recognized me; I had fun with that.

I saw Kevin and Amy Saturday night at one of the local watering holes. I told the bartender to take them each a drink and tipped my beer when they were delivered. They must have stared at me for half an hour before Kevin finally walked over to thank me. 

"Do I know you?" he asked hesitantly.

"You still getting blowjobs from hookers when you pass out?'

"Holy fuck! Steve?" We laughed and hugged. He yelled for Amy to come over. With them, it was like I never left.

"Have you seen Kate yet?" Amy asked, then thought about what she'd asked.

"Nope, no reason to." 

"But Steve, didn't your kids tell you?" Kevin immediately stopped her.

"Amy, it's none of our business. What the hell have you been up to? What's with the hair and beard?" The look he gave Amy after that told me something was going on—my mother and now Amy—there was something no one was telling me.

I slept like a baby Saturday night only to be dragged out of bed Sunday morning at nine to go to church. I don't hate church. It's just that I no longer saw a purpose in it. God never answered my prayers back when I begged for help before I left. Since he turned his back on me, I did the same to him. 

Nothing had changed. Mom wanted to show me off to everyone, knowing that I'd left under not such good circumstances, but I was back and looking better than ever. Mom always was proud of me.

Sundays were usually set-aside for family dinners. It was potluck and everyone brought something. Since this was my first one in over a year, it felt good to be home, if only for a little while.

How long am I home for? Where did I plan on going next, and what's up with the hair and beard? Everyone wanted to know all the personal dirt, including if I was seeing anyone.

"I don't have much free time, and all the hot women aren't flocking to Fargo, North Dakota, especially in the wintertime, to hunt for a husband," I tried to explain to the group. 

Mom was putting out the food when she dropped the bomb on me. I think she purposely waited until everyone started arriving so I'd have to stick around.

"I've invited Gary, Angie, and Kate over for lunch today." She waited for the explosion.

"No problem. I can't hide from her forever especially since we share a couple of kids together." Mom gave me a double take hearing that statement. "Besides, I'll need to go over to the house and get the rest of my stuff before I leave." Who was I kidding? It had been over thirteen months and I was dying to see her. I had thought about her more times than not lying alone in my cold bed, trying to replay in my mind how we'd let it get away from us. And then there was the night I left. I really think Kate expected to see me there when she finally woke up, only by that time all I wanted to do was prove a point. I think I accomplished that task pretty damn well before I left. So I waited.

I noticed Gary first when he made his way out onto the deck followed closely by Angie. I gave them each a big hug lifting Angie up above my head, swinging her around. She laughed, or more so screamed, until I let her down.

"Mom's here," is how Angie started it. "Dad, she's not going to recognize you. Dad, please don't get mad and argue in front of everyone. Please?" Her please was as much a question as a statement.

"Don't worry; I won't embarrass you, or even myself for that matter. I'll be nice and put on my happy face, okay?" Gary smiled at me, Angie wasn't so sure. Why was everyone afraid I'd make an ass of myself?

When Kate didn't come out on the deck, I excused myself from the group of cousins and friends I'd been reminiscing with and went to search her out. I found her just outside the kitchen talking to my mom.

She looked just like I remembered her, maybe a little thinner, and her hair a bit shorter, but it suited her. Like always Mom was holding someone's baby. It seemed she always had someone's baby in her arms at these get-togethers. So, I took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other.

"Been a while, Kate," I said to her back as my mom watched me walk up. She turned around, looked, and took a second take.

"If it wasn't for the voice, I never would have recognized you. You look good—different but good." There was no hug, handshake, or even a kiss on the cheek. Okay, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it looks like I got the same Kate I'd left so many months ago—an unfeeling woman who had basically shut me out months before I actually left. Or maybe she was just playing hard to get. I laughed to myself at that thought and said bitch under my breath.

I tried to say something to ease the situation. "I like what you did with your hair, it looks nice." Damn, I was like a dumb teenager trying to get words out without making a total fool of myself. I almost spiraled out of control and crashed. Shit, I was probably going to next start talking about the weather when my mom interceded.

"Here," she said to Kate. "Take David, I've got to check on the food in the oven. Look, you two need to talk, and you can't do that with me and everyone else listening in. Why don't you go for a walk down by the park? We won't be eating for at least forty-five minutes. I'll make sure the kids are looked after." Looks like we weren't given a choice—Mom saw to that.

I expected Kate to hand the baby back to my mom, but she just repositioned it in her arms and started walking towards the front door without so much as looking back at me. Guess she was taking charge like always. I almost stopped and turned around except I had promised my kids I'd play nice even if it killed me.

The park was across the street and down half a block. We walked in total silence. Perhaps she was waiting to get there before starting in on me, only this time I was prepared. When we came to a group of four picnic tables she stopped and turned to face me. The look on her face wasn't anger—I wasn't sure what it was. 

"Well?"

"Well, what?" I replied.

"What the hell do you mean? Well, what? You take off in the middle of the night almost fourteen months ago, without so much as a word, and now you don't have anything to say? How about sorry? Do you have any idea what your leaving did to your kids? They cried for days. I know you were angry with me, but to take it out on them was inexcusable." She was giving it to me tooth and nail. "I am glad that you lied about the money. You were right. I would have lost the house. Steve, aren't you the least bit sorry?"

I knew I'd have to answer that question, and I'd rehearsed my reply a thousand times over. 

"Are you? Are you sorry for making my life a living hell? Are you sorry about killing what was once a great marriage? You've still got that same bullshit attitude, and to answer you truthfully, no, I'm not sorry I left."

"Good, for a minute there I thought you were going to wimp out on me." Now that one took me by surprise. "I guess I went a little overboard."

"A little? Jesus Christ, Kate, you were a fucking shrew."

"All right, maybe I was, but you weren't so lily white yourself."

"Look, I don't want to dredge up the past. It's over and done with. We can't replay it. Somehow things got totally out of whack, with you letting me know in no uncertain terms you were done with me."

"Steve, don't put words in my mouth, I never said that. All I said was I didn't believe you on what happened that night."

"Shit, is that's all you've got to say, Kate? I'll have to hand it to you though, I never in a million years thought you could have downed those three bottles. I thought I might just have to make a run to the store when you finally did pass out." I was on a roll. "Now the ten thousand dollar question, did you remember anything?" She was still quiet but couldn't take her eyes off mine when she finally answered me in a soft voice.

"Okay, you were right. I never would have believed it, but you proved your point. Boy, did you ever. Did you have to write your Dear Kate letter on my stomach with an indelible black marker? First of all, your two children saw it before me the next morning because when they got home I was still asleep. Secondly, I couldn't read what you wrote, even in the mirror so I had to double mirror it." I was smiling. I'd never thought about that and imagining Kate running around trying to read what I'd written gave me a little added pleasure.

"Don't look so smug, because I've saved the best for last, mister high and mighty. You were right, I didn't remember anything after the second bottle. It didn't take me long to realize what had happened the next morning, but by then you were long gone. By the looks of me it appears you had a pretty good time." She was the one smiling now. "Did I respond in any way that night?"

"Believe it or not, you enjoyed yourself. Your body went with the flow and for a while I thought you'd actually woken up. Needless to say, you didn't." I was the one smiling now or was until her final volley.

"Well, if I would have known what you were planning I would have had this conversation with you back then. You see Steve, since we weren't doing anything, I went off the pill for about a month to give my body a break. Here," she said handing me the baby. "Say hello to your son, David." I looked at her and then back at the baby.

"No way. You're not going to try and pawn off some other guy's kid on me as mine. I'm not that stupid."

"Thought you might say that so I had a DNA test done on him, Gary, and Angie. And guess what? They all have the same mother and father, imagine that?" 

This was not the conversation I was supposed to be having with Kate.

"Now, you've got the same options you gave me. We can go back and live as a couple again and go to counseling, or we can separate for real and get a divorce. And let me make it perfectly clear, I don't want option that option no matter what you think."

"If you'll recall, you never picked any of my options. You just left me hanging."

"Okay, I admit it, I was wrong. I was being a royal pain in the ass, but you hurt me. You humiliated me in front of all our friends and then kept denying everything even after I watched it with my own eyes. Do you know that stag party was directly or indirectly responsible for three divorces? That doesn't even include our separation. I'm giving you the same options and the same three days you gave me. I only hope you make a better choice than I did. Well, with that said, we need to head back before they send out a search party." 

With David in my arms we started walking back. "Who else knows about this?"

"Everyone! Think about it, Steve. You take off and leave me pregnant. All our friends thought you were an uncaring louse until I explained to them how it happened, or thought it happened. Then when you didn't come back our parents and friends all pitched in to help. I was adamant you not be told because your dad knew you'd come running back. I didn't want you on those terms. Still your dad knew you would return, he just wasn't sure when."

"That's why no one mentioned you whenever I asked."

"What were they going to say? 'Oh, by the way, you knocked up Kate the night you left and have another son?'

"Why did you name him David?"

"Well, David slew a giant. I figured I'd need David to slay our giant problems when you finally decided to come back. You are back, aren't you?" That one I didn't have an answer to.

My mom watched us walk in and I think gave a sigh of relief that at least we hadn't killed one another. She strolled over, grabbed David from me, and told me I'd have plenty of time later to get to know my son. 

"You two go eat something before it's all gone." 

We watched each other the rest of the afternoon, never finding a chance to talk alone again.

"Dad, are you angry with Mom?" Angie asked, pulling up a chair next to mine. "Gary and I wanted to tell you but they wouldn't let us. You'll like David. He's a good baby, hardly ever cries." She was desperately trying to make her case.

"I'm not mad at David, how can you be mad at a baby?" Now Kate was another matter.

At four o'clock the brunch broke up. Everyone said their goodbyes, not knowing if they'd see me again. Kate said she had a million things to do at home and also had to leave. 




Amnesty



The kiss and hug I received from Kate were the first ones she'd given me willingly in almost seventeen months. That's how long it had been since we were in love and together. 

"Remember, you've got three days." 

Did it sound that harsh and unfeeling when I said those exact words to her back then, I wondered. I walked them all to her car and got another peck for my trouble. My kids' eyes were as big as saucers, I guess hoping they would see me again tomorrow.

"Well, how did it go?" my mother asked, stopping what she was doing for the moment.

"That was a shock. Is there anything else anyone wants to share?"

"Nope, I think that about covers it," my dad said with a stupid smirk on his face.

"How about if I hadn't decided to come back home? Was anyone going to tell me?"

My dad stopped folding the bridge chairs and looked at me. "Most likely we would have had to eventually. We hoped you would come to your senses sooner or later and come back on your own. We just didn't think it would take this long." He turned away from me and went back to folding the chairs. I could tell he was not happy with my long absence.

"Look, honey," my mother added, "you both made some big mistakes, but Kate loves you, and I think deep down you still love her. The two of you brought another life into your troubles and that baby doesn't deserve to be short changed. You're a good man. I know you'll make the right decision, I just know it." Nothing like having your mother trying to guilt you into making the decision she wants. But for me it wasn't that easy.

I called Kate and asked her for a week rather than three days to make my decision. I could tell by her voice she didn't want to agree, reluctantly she did. I think she knew I was seriously considering what she had told me.

I spent the greater part of the next week looking at my options. What I found was not good. My old job was long gone, and although my former boss gave me a great letter of recommendation, in this economy good jobs were few and far between. I had walked away from my old life and now I—along with the rest of my family—was paying the price. 

No one was hiring, at least for what I was looking for, and without a job I, or should I say we, wouldn't be able to survive. I had been sending home thirty percent of what I made and banking twenty, but even with that nest egg it wouldn't last long. I was feeling screwed again, and not getting any more enjoyment from it the second time around either.

Kate and I talked. I spent every available minute with Gary, Angie, and David, but after a week I still didn't have a clue what I was going to do. Added to that was the pressure of knowing I was running out of time.

On decision day I asked Kate to dinner. I had looked at all my options and even talked to my parents to get their opinion. Life sometimes sucks, and I was having too many of those 'life sometimes sucks' days lately.

Dinner was nice. I even asked her to dance a couple of slow songs in the lounge. We were avoiding the issue we were there to talk about, and I could see it in her eyes she wasn't happy. 

"Enough already! Are you going to stay or go, what the hell do you plan on doing? Talk to me for Christ's sakes," she was almost shouting at this point.

******************************

As I previously stated, winters in Fargo are a bitch. This winter was no exception. The new crew chief is grooming me for a foreman's position that will be opening up in about a year. That promotion will pay me twenty percent more than I'm making now, and with the hefty increase I received when I came back, I was making more than I had been in a long time. 

Life is not a fairy tale and sometimes it doesn't go the way you'd like. Sometime you have to do things not because you want to but because you know it's the right thing to do. 

It was late, I was cold, my back hurt, and I was in a foul mood after pulling an eighteen-hour shift. I stopped, grabbed a bite to eat, and headed for my room. The water never did get hot enough to un-chill my bones, but that was life in the middle of February on an oil pipeline. I climbed into bed and listened to my joints crack as I straightened out my legs and stretched my back.

Even through her flannel pajamas I could feel her warmth and it felt wonderful.

"Your hands are like ice cubes, watch where you put them," she said as I pulled her in tight. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Just after two. Miss me?" I asked, kissing her neck.

"I was primed and ready hours ago when you called and said you needed to work over. Right now all I want to do is sleep."

"Sure I can't get you in the mood?" I replied as my hands caressed her body, warming them up in the process. The room was almost pitch black, all I could see were silhouettes, but I didn't need any light for what I wanted to do.

"Well, what's it worth to you, big boy?" she said, rolling onto her back facing me, wide-awake now.

"How about I come down to visit you the next two times?"

"Mister, you've got yourself a deal," she said, attacking me.

There was no way in hell Kate was coming out from under those covers. So what I wanted to do, and what we ended up doing, was all done under those warm blankets. I didn't care. I had my wife back in my arms and even making love to her on a cold hard floor would have been okay by me.

Life for us wasn't easy. After talking and arguing more than a bit, we decided to try once more. For me the decision to give it another shot was primarily because of the kids, especially David who I barely knew. We both knew this time around it wouldn't be so easy. We'd blown that a long time ago. I moved back into the house and life was great for all of a week and a half. Then I had to go back. I didn't have a choice. 

Money rules, and without it we couldn't survive, at least not like before. With my bump in pay I was making more than I had at my last office job, but the conditions weren't nearly as nice. The two of us rotated traveling every month. One month the kids would go to their grandparents and she would come up to see me for a long weekend by herself, acknowledging the cold winters in Fargo were her penance for her unrelenting torturous behavior. The next month I'd fly down to see her and the kids for about four days at a crack. When she came up we hardly ever left the bed, catching up any way we could. I got some reimbursement for travel expenses, but that was the only way it could work because Kate had said she was NOT moving to North Dakota. 

Our plans now contain long term goals, one of which is to find a job for me within driving distance of our home. 

Have we gotten back to where we were a couple of years ago? Yes and no. We still love each, but we're both kicking ourselves for letting it get totally out of control. And now we're paying the price.

Our children love that we are back together, but hate that I'm gone most of the time. It will get better some day, I keep telling them.

One of the guys on the crew is getting married in a month. His buddies are throwing him a stag party Saturday night. When they approached me for a donation and wanted to know if I was coming, I just smiled, handed them a twenty and told them no. 

Been there, done that, and I'm freezing my ass because of it. God, I hate Fargo!!!



Amnesty Program



Professor Sandra Suarez opened a file folder and put her elbows on her desk. "Your academic record is exceptional, Rebecca. You're a good candidate for the Amnesty program. You understand that this is an experiment, correct?"

Rebecca shifted in her seat across from Professor Suarez. She had kept her backpack on her lap, and she found it awkward, but she thought it would be awkward to put it on the floor at this point too. "Yes," she said, "but I don't really know much about it- what do I have to do?"

"You're going to be working with a partner, and I'll explain more about that when he comes in- I'm expecting him any minute."

Rebecca wrinkled her nose. "I don't like working with partners. I always end up pulling their weight. Is there any way I can just do this myself?"

Professor Suarez grinned. "I can certainly understand your concern, but the nature of the experiment demands cooperation, and aside from that," she steepled her fingers under her chin, "We've done some background research and I don't think that's going to be a problem with this particular partner."

There was a soft rap on the door and a grey-haired professor entered, followed by a black-haired boy with a faded red backpack over his shoulder.

"Rebecca, this is Professor Danton from the Psychology department. He's going to be running the program with me. And if you agree to participate in the program, this will be your partner, Jason Kitchener."

Jason slipped his backpack to the floor and stuck his hand out. Rebecca shook it briefly. She thought if he were wearing a bomber jacket he'd look just like a World War II pilot. He didn't smile.

"Look," he said, slumping into his chair, "I don't mean to offend you or anything, but I don't like group projects, so if you're not going to pull your weight, you should probably find something else to do with your time."

Rebecca stared at him, open mouthed, then turned to Professor Suarez. She was staring back at Rebecca with a smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

Rebecca straightened her back and squared her shoulders. "I think he might do okay after all, professor."

"That's what I thought," Professor Suarez said, allowing herself a smile. "Professor Denton, why don't you introduce the project and I'll fill them in on the details as needed."

"Sure, Sandra." Professor Denton put his hands in the pockets of his blazer. "In our experience, we find that many exceptional students do very well academically, but we also find that there is a high intangible cost for high performing students to maintain the sort of academic records you are maintaining. Students need socialization, and they need to learn to trust others, especially since most high-performing jobs require teamwork. The goals of education are ultimately to prepare you for life, but there are very few real-world careers that require your level of effort, at least over any extended period of time. We can see that you have all the determination it takes to accomplish anything you set your minds to, but we also see high rates of anxiety and depression in high performing students, and in some cases we see the use of illegal stimulants and most sadly, suicide. It would be an understatement to say that these side effects of our best students are undesirable in the workplace, so this is an experiment to see if there are ways to mitigate these side effects without significantly compromising education."

Jason clenched a fist. "You're saying we're unbalanced."

Professor Suarez smiled. "To put it bluntly, yes. If you honestly feel that your academic life is in no way interfering with your social life, your emotional life, then you probably don't need this. Do you feel like you're balanced?"

Jason let his hand relax, but he furrowed his brow. "No, I guess not." He looked at Rebecca. She shook her head.

Professor Suarez nodded. "Let me give you an example. You have probably done a lot of extra credit. That credit is worth maybe two percent of your grade on any particular project, but it typically adds an extra twenty percent to the time needed to complete that project. In other words, extra effort in the typical educational environment results in diminishing returns, but you feel compelled by the competitive nature of the classroom to scrounge every point you can."

"Here's how the project will help you. Because you are both freshmen already working at junior and senior levels, we are giving you amnesty on your grades. We expect that participation may affect your day-to-day grades initially, but as long as your point average in your classes stays above the C level, we have arranged with all of your professors to record your grades as As."

Rebecca sucked in her breath. Jason exhaled.

Professor Suarez looked at them searchingly. "How does that sound?"

Jason smiled. "That sounds fantastic. It's..."

"...too good to be true." Rebecca said. "But I want it to be true. Is there a catch? What do we have to do?"

Professor Denton smiled. "An excellent question. There are tasks you will be required to complete, and you will fill out a daily online journal. It will be private to you, Professor Suarez and myself. The exercises are not practically difficult, but you may find them stretching or uncomfortable in other ways. The completeness and honesty of your journal is essential for us to tailor follow up tasks to build upon your progress. You always have the option to refuse a task, but if we feel that your number of refusals is hampering the experiment, we will drop you from the program with the result that your grading will go back to the conventional style. Would you like to continue?"

Rebecca said it first. "I'm in."

Jason nodded. "Me too. What's today's task?"

Professor Denton smiled. "Excellent! Meet me and Professor Suarez in an hour in Room 102 in the Psychology building. You're going to do a trust exercise and I want to talk to Professor Suarez about it. In the meantime, why don't you two go get some coffee and spend a little time getting to know each other."

----

Jason sat across from Rebecca, a steaming cup of horrible coffee cradled in his hands. Now that he was really looking at her, he was surprised to find that she was beautiful. She had brown, shoulder-length hair that she had an endearing habit of tucking behind her ear. She was wearing a sweater over crisp white long-sleeved shirt and new jeans. She had faint freckles on her cheekbones and brown eyes that were, at the moment, eyeing him with suspicion.

"I don't like to be sized up," Rebecca said.

"Okay then. Tell me about yourself so I don't have to guess."

Rebecca didn't seem to like this either, but she looked down at her hot chocolate and shrugged. "I'm not from here. I'm from Springfield."

"Do you live in the dorms?"

"No, I got an apartment with a journalism major. I almost never see her though. Where do you live?"

"I'm at my parents' house- just a few blocks away." It was Jason's turn to shrug. "Not very exciting. It gets worse. I was home schooled."

Rebecca smiled for the first time. "I could kind of tell. I was too. My parents wanted me to go to the Junior College, but I decided to move here and go to the university. They don't think I can excel here."

Jason grinned and pointed at a student trying to pry old gum off the bottom of a cafeteria table. "I guess they haven't seen your competition."

Rebecca laughed. "What do you think they're going to make us do this afternoon? Professor Denton kind of has me freaked out."

"I don't know. Those two look like they have something going on. I don't really care. I'm in it for the free grades."

Rebecca finished her hot chocolate. "I think we're going to have to earn them anyway."

________________

Professor Suarez stole a glance at Professor Dalton and grinned. "Today we are going to have you do two trust exercises. You need to hold hands for one hour, and during that time, you each need to confess something to the other that you don't want anyone else to know."

Rebecca saw the blood drain from Jason's face, and she got a knot in her stomach. "We have to hold hands? Why do we have to do that? I don't even know him."

"Hand-holding is a technique to fast-track trust." Professor Dalton explained, "It makes vulnerability much easier to attain. Similar effects can be achieved with the moderate use of alcohol, but of course, we can't recommend that in view of your age." 

"I guess I can suffer through it." Rebecca still felt queasy, but at least Jason was good looking and didn't look like he'd drool all over her.

"I can do anything you can do." Jason said, the color beginning to come back into his face.

"All right then, I think that's it," Professor Suarez stood up and handed Jason and Rebecca each a manila folder. "Don't forget to write in your journals. The login credentials and the program outline and terms are in the folders. We'll keep in touch." 

----

Jason and Rebecca stood in the hall, facing each other awkwardly. Jason's hands were firmly in his pockets.

"Um, can we go somewhere off campus," he said, "where this won't be..."

"...completely weird?" Rebecca shrugged. "I guess we wouldn't run into anybody we know at the mall this time of day."

They took Rebecca's little blue Toyota to the mall. The drive was mostly quiet and awkward. Jason tried to get cues about Rebecca from her car, but it was clear that she didn't spend much time making the car her own- it was just a way to get from her apartment to her classes and back.

Jason told her a little about his family- his mom was nosy and his dad was cool, but not around a whole lot. He was an only child. Rebecca parked outside the main entrance.

They walked into the mall, careful not to touch each other. Jason looked at Rebecca, took a deep breath and held out his left hand. She took it. He felt an unexpected thrill at her touch. He had expected it to be more like holding his mom's hand- neutral and restrictive. This was different though- he felt slightly giddy.

"Now what?" Rebecca said abruptly. "Do you start spilling your guts or do I have to do it first?"

"Let's ease into it a little. Let's walk around and ride all the escalators. We both have to confess before we finish riding the last one." Jake gave her hand a gentle tug.

They started walking hand-in-hand. When they got to the first escalator, Rebecca grinned. "I think I'm going to be better at this stuff than you are."

Jason stepped onto the escalator. "I don't really care about my grades," he said, "Not any more. I'm just afraid to let everyone down if I'm not perfect all the time. Everyone is always saying how proud they are and now I don't feel like I even own myself. I'm just a machine that makes one 'A' after another."

"Is that it?" Rebecca said, after a short silence, "That's your confession? I could have told you that back in Prof Suarez's office. That's not even a secret. All of us 'high-performing' students are like that. Make Mom and Dad proud. Get a scholarship. Get a high-stress, high-paying job so the stress never ends. Your confession can't be something everyone already knows."

"Okay then," Jason said, "If you're ready to come out with some deep dark secret, let's hear it. Something you really don't want anyone to know."

Rebecca cleared her throat, not sure what to say, but she started talking anyway. She was was horrified at what she heard coming out of her mouth. "I masturbate a lot. At least once a day."

Jason kept walking, his eyes straight ahead. He led Rebecca to an elevator and pushed the button. "You're better at this stuff than I am," he managed to say.

The elevator door opened and they stepped in. It closed behind them, shutting out the sounds of the mall. Jason didn't select a floor so the elevator just sat there.

"I'm so embarrassed! I've never said that to anyone before. I wasn't going to say that. I'm so sorry." Rebecca looked down at Jason's hand, holding her own. "You're... still holding my hand. I thought you would be disgusted."

"I do it too," Jason said quietly, "I mean I, uh, m-masturbate too. And I don't think it's disgusting if you do. Maybe I'm supposed to, but I don't. As a matter of fact..."

Rebecca looked up at Jason's face. He was blushing all the way to the roots of his black hair. "As a matter of fact what?"

"I think it's pretty hot. Uh- I mean amazing." He squeezed her hand.

"So, you do it too?" Rebecca asked. Jason nodded, completely unable to speak. She smiled briefly. "Which hand do you use?"

Jason looked down at Rebecca. She wasn't teasing him- she was looking at him curiously. He held up his right hand. "Right hand. Mostly."

Rebecca smiled at him and let go of his left hand, walked around him and slid her hand into his right hand. "Thank you for not laughing at me."

"Well," Jason smiled, "once a day doesn't sound like that much." He paused for a moment, "Have you done it today already?"

Rebecca wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. "Yes. You?"

"No," Jason said, "not yet."

"Boy, I'd love to see that." Rebecca said, then clapped her hand over her mouth and squealed through her fingers, "Oh shit."

"Really? You'd want to watch?"

Rebecca still had her hand over her mouth. She nodded.

"It wouldn't freak you out?"

Jason felt something new happening inside him. He was talking to this beautiful girl about his deepest secret and she wasn't running away. In fact, it seemed like she was intrigued by it. This was totally unexpected, and it had his cock swelling quickly.

Rebecca shook her head. "So, um, do you have plans... I mean, when are you going to..."

"I don't think I'm going to make it until bedtime," Jason said, amazed at how free he felt to say exactly what he felt. "Do you want to..."

"Yes."

Suddenly the elevator door opened and an elderly couple walked in. Jason pulled Rebecca out and they made their way, giggling, to the parking lot.

----

Jason's mom was sure to be home, so they went to Rebecca's apartment, a second story two bedroom affair in a complex.

"Do you want something to drink? I have juice, coke, milk, water." Rebecca was fussing in her kitchen and Jason was standing in the small living room feeling foolish. He had let go of her hand in the car to make driving easier.

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

"How about a snack? I have pretzels, yogurt, cupcakes..." She looked out at Jason, shut the cupboard. "I'm making it weird."

"Yeah. Kinda weird. Can you just sit down and talk with me?"

She went into the living room and sat on the couch. Jason sat next to her, his hands clasped over his knees. "Let's take turns asking each other questions. You can start."

She reached over and slipped her hand into his. "We have another forty-five minutes to go with the handholding. Do you like holding my hand?"

He relaxed a little. "I really do. It makes me say things I've never said before, but I like it." Jason enjoyed the smoothness of her skin. "Which hand do you use?"

Rebecca grinned mischievously. "I'm ambidextrous." She wiggled all of her fingers in the air. "Do you ever look at dirty pictures?"

Jason felt his face flush again. "Sometimes. But honestly, so much of what I see is too much. Too blonde. Too rich. Too made up. Too stupid. Too... big..." His hands were out in front of him, gesturing.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. 

"So anyway," Jason tried to recover some of his composure, "yes, I look at dirty pictures sometimes. Not today though."

"What? Why not today?"

Jason shifted uncomfortably. He was sure his erection was starting to show. "It's my turn to ask a question."

"You can ask two in a row after you answer mine. Why no dirty pictures today?"

"I don't think I'll need the, uh, extra stimulation... today." Jason stammered, knowing it was a copout. He asked a question quickly before she could protest. "What's your favorite fantasy?"

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll tell you my second favorite fantasy. I'm a tourist in Brazil. He's the tour guide for a canopy zip line tour. Nobody else shows up. He puts on my harness very thoroughly. We fly through the trees. He takes off my harness and doesn't stop taking things off. We don't ever make it back to the ground in that fantasy. Second question?"

"Wow. That's... elaborate. Do you ever use toys?"

"Technically, no. I can't walk into one of those stores."

"Mail order?"

"Dad's credit card."

"Oh. So never anything..."

Rebecca lowered her head. "An electric toothbrush, a carrot, a brush handle. It's not really my thing... I mean, I have very good fingers." She could see that a large lump was forming in Jason's pants and she tried not to stare. "So today, since you're not looking at dirty pictures, what are you going to be imagining in that high performing mind of yours?"

Jason balked. "Seriously? Come on."

"I told you mine. My second-best anyway. And I took the biggest risk. So spill it."

"You," he said, finally, his erection pushing hard against his jeans, "in a sun dress."

Rebecca inhaled. "Really? Me? And not just buck naked?"

"No. There's no story in that. There has to be a story. Like your canopy tour."

Rebecca pursed her lips and made a decision. "What color sun dress?"

"What?"

"What color sun dress am I wearing in your fantasy?"

"Blue."

"Hm. Wait here." She jumped up and went down the hall, leaving left him on the couch stretching his jeans.

Jason sat still, hoping she wasn't going to come back with pepper spray or something. He heard a closet door slam.

Rebecca's voice floated out of a back bedroom, "Just stay there- I'll be right out."

After a few tense minutes, Rebecca emerged wearing a yellow sun dress. The transformation was remarkable- she had been dressed almost severely, in plain clothes designed to look responsible and serious. She looked feminine now- fresh and smiling shyly. "I don't have a blue one- I hope this is okay. I just want to help a little. Will this help?"

Jason opened his mouth and closed it again. "Wow. You look amazing." A little too amazing, he thought.

"I wasn't sure about the bra. I played it safe though. What do you think? Should I take it off? You can see the straps."

Jason thought the bra was in the way too. "Yeah," he said, "the straps might be distracting."

"Okay. That's what I thought."

To his amazement, she unhooked her bra and pulled it out from under her dress. He could see her nipples poking into the fabric. "I can't believe I'm doing this. It's wild and fun," she said, dropping her bra on the floor. She pointed at the bulge under his jeans. "That's got to be uncomfortable. Can it be my turn for a peek?"

Jason stood up, took a big breath, unbuttoned his fly and pulled his pants and his boxers down to his ankles. His cock pointed straight up and bounced as he sat back down.

Rebecca stared. "Well, that's... attractive. Beautiful. You don't disappoint." Rebecca shook herself out of her fascination. "What's next? Am I standing or sitting? What happens?"

"Well, you sit on a chair in front of me and watch me for a while."

Rebecca pulled a chair in from the dining room table and sat in front of Jason, her knees together and her hands in her lap. "Like this?"

"Just like that." Jason made a fist around his cock and slowly started pumping. He watched Rebecca's face as she watched him, fascinated. He didn't want to go too fast, so he took his time, breathing deeply. After a little while, he noticed Rebecca squirming a little bit. He closed his eyes.

"Oh, please don't close your eyes. I want to see your eyes. Can you tell me what is going on in your head?" 

"Well, you're getting excited and you want to touch yourself but you don't want me to notice. So you try to be discreet."

Rebecca shrugged her shoulders and pushed her breasts together with her arms, then she pushed her dress down between her legs and opened and closed them slowly. She crossed her right leg over her left and crossed her ankles and rocked her knees back and forth. She watched Jason's hand and tried to look as innocent as she could. He smiled at her. She bit her lip.