42 comments/ 55917 views/ 37 favorites Yes, I'm the Asshole By: Tx Tall Tales Yes, I'm the Asshole by Tx Tall Tales © ================================= ...but not the cheater! He's a real man, and he's not gonna take that kind of shit. Not from her, not from anyone. Thanks to Patientlee for her review and input. ================================= Yeah, I'm the asshole. She cheats on me, takes all I have, publicly humiliates me, and I'm the asshole. I'm sure you've heard about me by now. I'm kind of famous in our circles. The asshole. That's fair. Maybe I am. A little. * * * According to the latest statistics, more cheating is discovered because of cellphones than for any other reason. I guess that makes me just one of the gang, huh? It was her own fault. She kept harping on me to get her the new iPhone 5. I finally caved in. Then she needed to transfer everything to her new phone. I showed her how easy it was with the iCloud backup and restore. She was very happy. And I'll be honest, Sheri made sure that when she was happy, I was happy. Very happy. 1:30 am, tanks drained, cock rubbed raw, achingly happy. I guess that was the hardest part of it. I was happy, and I could swear she was as well. She was sure as hell affectionate enough. Touchy-feely, bragging on me, always available for a bit of the ol' in-out. I was proud. You know what I mean if you've ever had the undivided attention of a pretty woman. That's why it hit me so hard. She never hid her phone from me, we didn't put passwords on anything. I trusted her and she trusted me. She was right, I was wrong. I had her old phone and was going to reset it to factory settings, when I realized we hadn't transferred her music to iTunes. The music doesn't transfer with the backup. Not much of a backup if you ask me, but there it is. I hit the wrong button on the front screen, and her text messages popped up. Surprise, surprise, surprise. Sheri, my loving wife, the future mother of my children, my partner in life, confidante, lover, best-friend, was fucking around on me. No, the first text message didn't say that much. It was a strange name, just enough to get me curious. It was probably close to an hour later, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, that I had the whole story. Same ol' shit. Nothing new there. The second most common reason for cheating, according to those damn statistics. Facebook. Listed as one of the causes in over 52% of divorces. Make that 52.0001%. Old boyfriend, sees her on Facebook, reconnects, comes to town, just wants to catch up, yada-yada-yada. One thing leads to another. Flirting, lunch, kissing, mattress testing. Twice so far, from the looks of things. She appeared to be regretting the last one. Boo-hoo. The first one, no problem, cheat on your husband, get fucked bowlegged, no biggie, right? Just a walk down memory lane. Recapturing your youth. For some reason the second time she felt guilty. She thought they shouldn't get together any more. She was having second thoughts. A little late for that, don't you think, wifey dearest? I don't think my approach was wrong. Not at all. She was the cheater. I moved her shit out, and it was waiting boxed in the driveway when she got home. At least I was neat about it. Changed the locks. Moved the money. Closed out the credit cards. You know the drill. Hell, it was my house when we got married three years earlier. I didn't want the bitch there. She had her car, her stuff. The stupid bitch was all "Waaah! I'm sorry! Waaah! It didn't mean anything. Waah! Forgive me, give me another chance." Right. I know statistics. Once a cheater always a cheater. The scary part was that she was so good at it. I had no clue whatsoever. I knew I could never trust her again. To hear everyone else, I was the asshole. She loved me, it was a mistake, I should overlook it, take her back, get some great makeup sex. Right. Like that was going to happen. Fuckers wanted me to be a happy cuckold. No real man would put up with that shit. No way! I mean, everyone was on her side. My parents, all our siblings, our friends, distant relatives, neighbors, my co-workers, even my boss. What the fuck! She cheats and I'm the bad guy! The only ones who didn't get on my case, were her parents, and that, only because they'd been in the ground for almost 10 years. Sometimes I thought I heard them whispering to me at night to take her back. Fuck! "She's devastated," I was told. "Never meant for it to happen." "He seduced her." "She loves you." "Depression." "Seeing a counselor." Lots more of that shit. I get it. She's sweet as saccharine. Not a cruel bone in her body. Always there to help anyone in need. An open book, wears her heart on her sleeve. You know all the damn clichés. That's my Sheri. Well, I'm sorry. Sue me, I believe in fidelity. If you're single, that's one thing, hell even if you're dating or engaged, but once you're married, and you've made those vows, no more fucking around. Is that so unreasonable? I guess everyone else thought so, including our lawyers and the judge. 50/50 split, even though I brought everything into the marriage, earned all the income, and she did nothing! We didn't have kids, she didn't even have to keep house, we had a maid crew come by once a week. We ate out more than we ate in. I guess none of that matters. Fairness isn't a concern with the law. She got half the house, I had to sell it, took a beating, and paid her $23K of the proceedings. Half of the savings, the checking, fuck, even my 401K. I had to buy her out of my own fucking retirement plan, started 3 years before I even met her! She cried, told me none of it was her idea, she was letting her brother and the lawyers fuck me raw. Ok, that's not exactly how she said it, but pretty damn close. They estimated my gun collection at over $100K. I don't think I'd paid $10K for all of it, but apparently my grandfather's pair of fully automatic licensed AK47s are worth a ton of change. I had to sell one, just to give her the money. My fuckin' grandfather's inheritance. Her reward for cheating on me. In the end I was raped and left bleeding. She cheated on me for months, seriously, two months. Once at the end of May, and again in April. Damn slut. And I don't care that the second time she only let him go down on her. Fuck, that's still cheating. And no way I was getting saddled with a low-down, whore slut! She got all the sympathy, and all the cash, leaving me all the debt. Sucks to be me. So I was bitter. Angry. Fuckin' pissed off, at her, our friends, our family. Can you blame me for not talking to them? They all took her side. The cheater. The slut. The lousy money grubbing whore! Me, I was penalized for being loving and faithful. Working hard, investing well, diligently putting hundreds of hours of work into our house, being conscientious and saving. Listen up you guys, there's a message here for you. You think you've got it good? Take it from me, the best wife in the world is a whore at heart, and her primary goal in life is to destroy your life and your soul. Some just take longer than others, and hide it better. Except Mom. Maybe. The ways she took the whore's side, had me wondering about her. Her and Mrs. Evans, my third grade teacher. That woman was a saint. I was alone, working my ass off, paying the bitch alimony, and starting from scratch. According to everyone else, I was the evil one for being so hard-headed and pushing her into the arms of her ex, since she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to go? She made over $70K off me, and I was paying her $1200 a month on top of that, for three years. She could have gotten a job, right? That's what I did. No, she remained a whore, fucking her ex for a roof and to keep her in the style she was used to, although he really couldn't afford it. But she wasn't happy. She wanted me back. It was all my fault. I still probably could have gotten over it in time. But they wouldn't leave me alone. Nobody would. Give me a fuckin' break! If I had to hear one more time how I should give her another chance... She was at my sister's wedding. Fuckin' hell, she was a bridesmaid! The treacherous bitch was in the wedding, and I wasn't even a groomsman. Did I make a fuss? Did I refuse to show up? No. I was good about it. Alright, the large canvas painting of Benedict Arnold might not be everyone's taste, but it was a gorgeous frame, and cost me more than $300. Better than another lousy toaster, right? I went alone, but did my cheating ex have that much class? No. She brought her fuck-toy. I didn't make a scene. Didn't kick his ass like he deserved. I'm not a Neanderthal. I even danced with her when she asked. "Can't you forgive me, Rick?" she asked. "You look gorgeous tonight, but then again you always have." See? I was trying to be nice. "I'm sorry. Take me back, honey. You're the only man I loved. I made a mistake, but I never stopped loving you." "Nice car you're driving. New Lexus? I wish I could afford something like that. I'm still driving the old Honda. At least it's almost paid off." "Talk to me baby. What's it going to take? We were meant to be together, everyone knows it. You'll never regret it, I swear. I'll make it up to every day for the rest of my life." "Nice night for a wedding. How much you think those ice carvings cost?" She ran from me crying, and of course I'm the bad guy all over again. Jesus! I was trying to be nice. Never once told her what I thought of her. Didn't curse or nothing. And I'm the asshole! I listened to my Mother bitch at me, over my behavior. "Stop it, Mom. I didn't do anything. I was nice to her. I just didn't want her to think there was any chance of taking her back." "Why not? She's a wonderful girl. She made a little mistake, and you blew it all out of proportion. Nobody will ever love you like her, and you're not fooling anybody. You know you love her just as much. Stop being so stubborn!" "Why won't you ever take my side, Mom? She cheated on me. I did nothing wrong. I'm your son, you should be with me on this." "Honey, you know we're all she has. We're her family, she's like our daughter. We love her, just like we love you. We want you both to be happy. Like it was." "She's not your daughter. She's the cheating, thieving ex-wife of your only son. No, it's over. I wish you'd just leave it alone so we could both move on!" It had been three years, and it never stopped. I was surprised to see her show up at my door one day. I wasn't a dick. Didn't slam the door in her face. I let her in. Offered her coffee. She took off her coat, and she was wearing a sexy negligee. Very sexy. Damn, she still looked good. "Please, Rick. One last time, I'm begging you. Take me back. I swear, I'll be the most loving, faithful wife in the world. I want to carry your children." I shook my head. "I could never trust you. You fooled me too easily. I never had a clue, Sheri! You broke my heart, and then you raped me in the divorce. Ran off with the asshole who helped you destroy our marriage and my life." "It wasn't me. I didn't want any of that. All I wanted was you." "You hired the sharks, you signed the papers, you did your best to leave me in the poorhouse. I barely had a pot to piss in. And you're driving a new car, new jewelry, wearing fancy lingerie. You've got it all, and you left me nothing but a broken heart." "I just need a second chance, baby. I'll never be happy without you. You're my soul-mate. Take me to bed, now, and I'll never leave you again. I'll never, ever be with anyone else." "Not gonna happen Sheri." She got quiet. "He asked me to marry him, again. I don't want him, I want you, baby." "You're not gonna get me." She threw herself at me, mascara messing up my collar, snotting up my shirt. Man, that woman could cry. "Don't... make me," she snorted, sobbing. "...marry him." "Nobody's making you Sheri. You're free to do anything you want." "I want to be with you, Rick!" "Other than that." She eventually left, and I had to listen to the shit all over again. Why couldn't I be reasonable? Didn't I have a heart? A soul? She deserved a second chance. I was fed up. But did I explode? Shoot anybody? Set any houses on fire? No way, I kept on keeping on, working and surviving. I didn't have much else going for me. But they wouldn't let it go. Even then. The bitch was engaged to be married, planning her wedding, with my mother and sisters helping her, and they were still tag-teaming me with guilt and pressure. Every fuckin' day. "It's not too late." "All you have to do is say yes." "She loves you." "Have a heart." Mom always had to pull the "I'm-so-disappointed" card. I don't know what kind of pussy she was marrying to put up with that shit. I know I wouldn't. It took a lot of pleading and begging for them to convince me to attend her wedding. I fought it, but family knows how to wear you down. Final closure, they said. I showed up, dressed nice. Even bought them a gift. A toaster. No more sentimental gifts, those don't go over so well. I learned my lesson. I was standing around outside, loathe to face all the people who knew what she'd done to me. But I was there, doing my part. Mom cornered me. I don't understand her. She swears she wants me back with Sheri because neither of us will be happy without the other. Why can't she figure out I can't be happy with her? She cheated on me, she dragged me through the coals, humiliated me by openly confessing her infidelity and moving in with the asshole. Then spent the next few years taking money from me, living with the bastard, and never letting me get over it, rubbing it in my face almost daily. "She wants to see you, Ricky. She's so happy you're here. It's the only thing she's happy about. Let her say her piece, alright?" I allowed her to point me in the right direction, and close the door behind us. Sheri was overjoyed to see me, and leapt into my arms. I only held them out to protect myself. "Baby," she whispered, kissing my face, crying. "I knew you would save me. I love you so much." Save her? The bitch was doing this on her own. I don't know why, but I finally snapped. I'd tried being understanding, being the nice guy. I swear I tried for 3 fucking years. I turned her around, and lifted her wedding dress up out of the way, exposing her stockings and little white thong. Opened up my pants, and in a few seconds I was sticking my cock in that whoring slit that should only have been mine. I pounded her angrily. One last payback I thought. Let her go to the altar with my cum dripping down her leg. I owed the bastard that much. He took her while she was mine, I was going to have her one last time. I wouldn't do it once she was married. No, I'm not like them. But for these last few minutes, we were both single. Alright, maybe I'm justifying myself a little, but she hadn't said the vows. Fucking her in her bridal dress, only minutes before she was going to walk down the aisle, may make me an asshole. So be it. I've never denied it. God, the woman had a sweet rear. Smooth, white, tight. I eased up and figured I might as well enjoy it. It only took a couple of minutes to load her up, but she turned, dropped to her knees and got me hard again. I was surprised by that. She never liked a sloppy cock. I guess now that she had a sloppy cunt, we were even. Once I was hard, I lifted her ass, and set her on the edge of the table. Pushed the dress out of the way as much as possible, moved between her legs, and had at her again. I had missed this. Not the cheating whore part, but the sex. Sex with Sheri had always been wonderful. Angry sex was very intense. Hot. I kinda liked it. The door opened behind us, and my mother poked her head in. "Just a few..." she started, then I saw her smile, and blush. "Never mind. I'll hold them off. You two take your time working things out." I let the whore kiss me, apologize, profess her unending love. I pumped her, and spent a couple of minutes figuring out how to unsnap the back of her dress, so I could get a shot at her tits. It was almost funny, banging her steadily while she gave me directions. I peeled the top off her shoulders, exposing her big breasts. Nipples as hard as rocks. "I love you so much, baby!" she cooed. "Thank you. You'll never regret it." Bullshit, I was already regretting it, but not enough to stop fucking her. I guess hubby was going to get two fresh loads. Big ones. It had been a while. Three fuckin' years. I was getting close. I leaned into her, holding her tight, thrusting away frantically, while she gasped, whimpering. She screamed my name, coming for me, as I blasted my second load deep. It was the passion of the moment. That's the only way I can explain it. I sure as hell didn't mean it. No fucking way. "I love you," I groaned into her ear, and started the waterworks. I pulled out of her, wiped my cock on her garter, and adjusted my pants. I helped her fix the top of her dress, set herself right. Not that it was going to help much. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick smeared, her mascara running. She had the just-fucked look down to a tee. You would expect I kissed her goodbye, wished her luck, and watched her walk down the aisle to her new husband, waddling, dripping with my seed. If I had, maybe I could argue I wasn't really an asshole. I'd been pushed to my limits, but hadn't done anything horribly bad. Sheri hugged me, kissing my face greedily. "I knew you wouldn't let me. I knew it. I knew you still loved me," she purred. She took me by the hand, and walked out of the changing room. Mom winked at me, smiling. Sheri turned in the foyer, and walked out of the church, dragging me behind her. I guess I could have stopped things, but I wasn't thinking straight. And I was still pissed at her cheating, at the financial beating I'd taken, at the asshole who'd seduced her. Pissed at my entire family and all our friends. She got in the waiting limo, and gave the driver my address. Sheri got on her knees and opened my pants, and started sucking me like her life depended on it. I wondered what was happening at the church. Nothing good, I imagined. It was 10:20 and I was pumping her hot cunt again, when the driver pulled up in front of our house. She wriggled off me, straightened her dress, and grabbed her little purse. The door opened and I followed her out, after pulling up my pants. She handed the driver an envelope. "That's all for us. You should probably go back to the church. My fiancé might need you." He looked confused, glanced at me, and I just shrugged, following her up the steps. I opened the door, and she was already squirming out of her dress. "Find me something to wear, Honey?" she asked, grinning sexily. I had a box of things I'd missed when she first left. I'd never gotten around to dumping them or giving them back to her. Don't know why. It's not like I'd take them out, lay them on the bed, roll around in them and cry for what I'd lost. After what she'd done to me? Shit, no way. A man with balls doesn't do that crap. I fetched the box out from under my bed, and offered it up to her. She was naked, and pulled me in for a quick kiss. "You gotta help me, Rick. I did something stupid." No shit. "Again? What was it this time?" "I gotta go to the bank. We put our names on each other's accounts, and I'm afraid he might do something crazy. I gotta move our money." Let me explain. I was running on automatic. Shocked, confused, irritated, horny. It was 11:00 am on a Saturday. The banks would still be open, so I let her kiss me some more, then piled in the car and drove her to the bank. She couldn't just arbitrarily take his name off her accounts. Or vice-versa, so she suggested an easier solution. She'd move the money into my account, to protect it. I was stunned to see she had over $100 grand. She explained that she never spent any of 'our' money. Not the divorce proceedings, not the alimony I'd paid her. It was ours, and she was waiting for us to get back together. The damn slut was delusional. Yes, I'm the Asshole We had lunch, and she sat next to me, always touching me, feeding me from her plate. It wasn't that different from the old days. She'd always been affectionate. Maybe not to this degree, but not surprising from her. She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and I considered running before it got any weirder. Sadly, I wanted more of that pussy. Leaving me half done in the limo had me worked up. She still looked awesome. The rubbing she was giving me, between the legs, didn't help. It took her a few minutes but she returned and sidled up beside me. "I texted him. Told him I was sorry, but he knew that I'd go back to you, if you'd have me. I told him to keep my stuff, donate it, whatever. I don't want any of it. It's sullied by being with him. We're starting over, and I swear, you'll never regret it." She pulled me down and kissed me hard. Got a little of my bacon cheeseburger out of it. Fuckin' thief. "This was good for us, don't you understand? I learned. Learned the pain, and how much I needed you. I could never, ever, cheat on you again. Impossible. I'm going to be the best wife in the world, I swear it. Angel in public, and the hottest little slut in private." She nibbled one of the french fries, and leaned her head on my shoulder. "You're not saying much. You're happy right?" I reached around her shoulders and gave her a hug. "We've got three years of not having sex to make up for." She squealed happily, tossed way to much money on the table, and dragged me out of there. Blew me in the car on the way home. She was naked by the time she made it to the bedroom, and I was only moments behind her. I leaned back, watching her suck my cock. She looked up at me smiling. "I know I have a lot to make up for. Anything you want. Any fantasy you've ever had, whatever you can think of, it's yours for the asking. I won't deny you anything. My bottom? It's yours. Virgin and all yours. Tie me up? Spank me? Call me names? Invite my best friend over? Anything, honey." "Ride me, cowgirl," I teased. She laughed, mounting my cock, and rode me energetically. She was a wild woman, and I played with her tits, while she took care of me. There's no denying she'd always been a hell of a fuck, and if anything, she was better. That irritated me. She slowed down, rocking slowly. "Why the frown, baby?" "You're better. He teach you that?" She pouted. "It's true I let him have me. I owed him that much. He never came in my mouth. Never got my ass. He ate me a lot, he loved that, and I didn't feel as guilty as with other things, so I encouraged it. He would eat me for hours, and get so worked up that half the time he'd pop before he could even get his little weanie inside me." She laid down on top of me, while I held her. I guess she was in a confessing mood. "He loves me, Ricky. Loves me like I love you. Totally, without restraint. Insensibly. I could insult him, humiliate him, treat him like shit, and he'd crawl back to me. I felt bad sometimes, using him. Using his love like that. But he knew I didn't love him. That I loved you. He said he was patient. That I'd learn to love him." She kissed me softly. "Never. I'd never love him. There's only space for one man in my heart, and it's you. It always was. It always will be." "You loved me so much you cheated on me," I reminded her. She clung to me. "You can't understand. The way he adored me, the puppy dog eyes, the pleading, the begging. God, he wanted me so badly, that I finally decided to put him out of his misery. I slept with him. I didn't enjoy it, I barely did anything, but he... he was delirious with joy. It's a mind rush. That anyone could want you that badly." "I cheated on you. Twice. I hate myself for that. It wasn't anything you did. Never. You were all I ever wanted. It wasn't out of love for him, or lust, or anything like that. It wasn't even the sex, which was never very good, at least not for me. It was the power over him. The sick adoration. I used him, and then threw him away. I tried to be gentle but it was over, and he was devastated. I totally destroyed him. And then I lost you." She lowered her head and started crying. I held her, fucking her gently, while she composed herself. It was kind of a kick, the way her body shook while she was sobbing. I could feel it on my cock. Wild. "I realized what I'd done, and swore that somehow, someway I'd make it up to you. I operated in a daze for months. I was useless. Tried to hurt myself a few times. Spent a lot of time with councilors who don't know shit. Telling me I had to move on. No way! That wasn't going to happen!" She kissed me, sat up and started fucking me fiercely. "I was right, they were wrong! I knew we'd get back together. We loved each other too much. All we needed was time." I groaned, thrusting into her. "Fuck, I've missed this pussy." She grinned. "Never again, lover. It's yours anytime you want. Anywhere. Any way." I held her hips, feeling the need rushing upon me, and powered another nice load home. It was a hell of a weekend. We ignored the phones, the knocking on the door. We hardly left the bedroom. We ate in there, we fucked, we showered, we played. I tried a lot. Not everything, it was only a couple of days, but a whole lot. Her first anal was difficult. We took our time getting her ready, and still had problems. But she refused to give up, and the second time we tried, I penetrated her. We managed to do a little fucking. She embraced the pain, and allowed me to have her. Twice more in the butt that weekend, until we learned how she could almost enjoy it. I spanked her a few times. Tied her up and teased her endlessly. That was good, because, let's face it. I'm only a man. Can only keep it up so long. But there's a lot of toys you can play with, and I found I could keep her rolling for hours. Blindfolded, ice play. Feathers. I searched through the house, finding appropriately sized and shaped things to fit inside her. There were quite a few. I don't know how many times I made her come for me, but it had to be in the hundreds before we were through. I know, I'm an asshole. But I was gonna make sure she never forgot that weekend. Never. Whenever I felt even a hint of life below the belt, I'd have her suck me to life, and I'd have my way with her. By Sunday afternoon, I didn't even want to come anymore. I just wanted to fuck her. And I did. I slept with her in my arms, and did whatever I wanted to that sexy body anytime I woke even a little. By Sunday night she was aching and begging for mercy. Her pussy and ass were raw, and she could hardly speak from having me down her throat so much. She sounded like she was a lifelong smoker, her voice was so rough and hoarse. She told me everything about her life with him and to be brutally honest, I felt a little sorry for the bastard. To love someone that completely, and to be with her, but to never really have her. It was sad. He gave her everything, sacrificed for her, bought her that nice car while he drove a clunker. All for nothing. Monday morning I peeled her off of me. Found the energy for one last good fucking, which I don't think she enjoyed, as sore as she was, but she'd never deny me. She couldn't. I showered and got ready for work, and she sat in the bathroom and watched me. That was all. Just stared. As I was finishing up, she hugged me. "I guess there's a lot I've got to do. I've taken the week off, since I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon. I need to talk to Mom and the family and explain things. I guess I owe him a last meeting, to clear things up. That's not going to be easy." She sighed. "Can you drop me off at his place? I need to get my car." "No problem," I told her, and accepted another one of her soul kisses. I was so fucked out I didn't feel any response down below. Good thing, because it was gonna have to last for a while. I dropped her off, and called in sick. Hit the bank and moved all the money to a new account. Went back to the house and boxed her stuff up, including her wedding gown. Changed the sheets and aired out the room. It had been an amazing weekend, but I didn't need the memories coming back to haunt me. I locked up the place as securely as I could, and ran for the hills. Let's face it. I'd fucked up. No way I was taking her back! That wasn't in the cards. I let the pussy blind me, and I had some fun, but that's as far as it was going. Yeah, I took the money. I felt it was only fair. It was mine. I figured out what I thought I really owed her. The house was mine, the gun collection was mine. The 401K was mine. She deserved none of that. I never should have paid the cheating whore alimony. I'm fair. I wasn't going to cheat her. I made a check out for nearly $13,000, and mailed it to Mom, for Sheri, with a careful accounting of why it's all she deserved. I called my boss the second day, and we had a long heart-to-heart over the phone. He was more sympathetic than I expected. He let me go, but assured me that if I ever got my head on straight, we could start right back where we were. I thanked him. My phone was off for three days. I finally called and had the service interrupted. I explained I was going to be overseas. They were pretty good about it. I didn't know they could just pause the service, extending the contract and picking back up when you wanted. I had to contact them within six months, or I'd be stuck with breaking the contract. By the time I hit the beach at Hedonism II, I was starting to unwind. After Sheri and I got divorced, I'm ashamed to say I was never with another woman, until our weekend together. At Hedonism, I found that there were a lot of 'friendly' women out there. A lot. Mostly married and older, and willing to be shared. If you're a younger guy, in good shape, with a decent attitude, you can get more sex than you can shake a stick at. And yes, I shook my stick a lot. The sad part was, I found out what I had long suspected. None were as good as Sheri. At least not with me. Nevertheless, it was good. Great, really. Relaxing, fun. I did some weird things, things I can't even write about. Two days into the second week, my sanity level was back to the point where I could call home. I hung up about 10 seconds into it. I wasn't going to take the yelling. Two days, and two calls later, at least they were being somewhat reasonable. "What have you done, baby?" Mom whined. "Nothing. I took a vacation I badly needed. The stress was too much. Y'all pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and finally pushed too far." "Sheri's a mess. You couldn't at least tell her you were going? We would have understood. You didn't even leave a key for her to get into the house." "Of course not. It's not her house. It stopped being that over three years ago, when she cheated on me, bled me dry financially, and moved in with the bastard she cheated with." "But you got back together?" Mom whined. "I fucked her Mom. She wanted it, I gave it to her. That's all it was. A good time was had by all, and it's over." "She said you took her back." "She assumed. I never agreed, but wasn't going to mess up a weekend of great sex. I'm never taking her back. I've told all of you that a million times." "What is she going to do now? It was the last straw with her fiancé. He's finally done with her. Dumped her stuff outside your house. Where's she supposed to stay?" "She has $13 grand, Mom. She can rent a place. Get a job. Do what the rest of the world does." "How could you take her money?" "It was my money. She and her lawyers stole it from me. When she gave it back, I wasn't going to fight it. Only fair thing she's done in 3 years. I gave her what she deserved, I was more than fair." "Fair! I expected better from you. You stole more than $90,000 from her. You broke up her wedding. Used her and threw her out. How could you do that?" "I guess it's like everyone has said for three years. I'm an asshole. When you're told that enough I guess it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy." There was a knock on the door. "Gotta go, Mom. I bet that's Dave at the door. I'm gonna help make his wife and sister airtight tonight." "Airtight?" "Ask sis, she'll explain it." "But what about Sheri?" "Tell her I had a good time. I'll see her around." I hung up, and popped one of the little pills that are so readily available around the resort. I had big hopes for the evening. * * * So that's me. The asshole. I went back after a month. Got my job back. Listened to the bitching and moaning, the crying, the legal threats. It doesn't bother me anymore. Once you've embraced your inner asshole, it's so much easier. Take Sheri for instance. I got over it. When I want her, I'll invite her over for a while. Fuck her brains out. If she denies me anything, I throw her out. She'll keep taking it, because she loves me, and believes that sooner or later I'll see the light. Nope. But I'll fuck her, because the woman is awesome in bed. I'll fuck others. I'm looking, with some success. Who knows, someday I might find someone as good as Sheri, and not just in bed. I'm not holding my breath, because I'm pretty sure all women have their inner asshole, and it's a lot closer to the surface. How else can you explain cheating on your spouse? Family events are a lot calmer. Less pressure nowadays. Sheri's usually there. Sometimes she even goes with me. Even more often she'll go home with me. I'll admit it, once I've had a few drinks, the urge to fuck the living shit out of her surfaces. I think she knows it. One week, I found myself half-drunk every night, while she plied me with alcohol, and reaped the rewards. I know, some of you will think I've caved, because I let her keep some of her stuff in the closet. Took her with me on vacation. Her visits have been getting longer. I stock Diet Pepsi in the refrigerator. I don't think so. I'm not married to her. No obligations. So I like her, big deal. I enjoy spending time with her, and I love the sex. Absolutely love it. I'm a man. Still got my balls. So what if I like to empty them in her. That rumor about her being pregnant? Shit happens. Not my problem. Alright, I told her the kid would always have a place with me, and I'll take care of 'em, whatever it is. If she can prove it's mine. Gotta admit, I don't doubt that. The woman's head-over-heels blind infatuated with me. She wouldn't go behind my back again. But no guarantees. She has her own room. Not that I can remember the last time she spent the night there, but it's official. Her room. My room. If I decide to move on, I'll take care of her and my kid, but I'm a free man. I can see anyone I want. I tell her that, tell everyone. Nobody's tying me down again. I won't be burned like that. Not again. So what, that it's been, uh... "How long's it been, Honey?" "How long, what, Rick? Are you still writing?" "You know, since I was, uh, with..." "Seventeen months, two weeks, three days since you fucked that skank. Was she so unremarkable you can't even remember?" Like I said, so what if it's been over a year since I've been with anyone else. I could if I wanted to. I'm my own man. Nobody tells me... "Yes, I heard you. I'll be a couple more minutes. You know it doesn't take me long to shower." "Wear the blue suit I laid out for you. It looks nice on you." "I will, I... You're wearing THAT!" "Don't you think I look... No baby, not now... Please, I just got ready... Oh! Baby, we shouldn't... Ohhhhh, yeah, right there... sweet Jesus, Rick, the things you do to me..." Where was I? I'm an asshole. I get it. But I'm my own man, and I've moved on. There's a moral in here, somewhere. =================== Something a little different. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, I welcome all comments.