0 comments/ 25659 views/ 4 favorites Circles By: Cockatoo Jeff is a jerk. The son of a bitch is messing around with my friend Tonya and doesn't think I know about it. Either that, or he just doesn't think, period. I should have known better from the beginning. Jeff wears a digital watch, and I hate digital watches. Where's the poetry in "4:58pm"? It clings to the death throes of an exhausted hour and it anticipates another which will slowly waste away. Really depressing. Besides, digital watches and clocks are precise and insistent, even when they're totally wrong, just like Jeff, the anal- retentive linear thinker. You know how annoying it is when the clock on a VCR will blink on and off, saying “It's exactly twelve a.m.! It's exactly twelve a.m.!” forever and ever until somebody sets it straight? Turn that into a person, and you've got Jeff. I need the constant rhythm of muffled tick-tockings like heartbeats which put me to sleep like a baby. I love the worn-down gold of the delicate old watches worn by ladies who aren't afraid to either show a little class or shop at flea markets. I love feeling like it's about seven o'clock-ish and will stay that way for a while, and when it’s not, it will be again tomorrow. The hands of the clock move in slow, steady circles, just how I like the hands of my lovers; they discover new places, and they always come back to those spots that are just perfect. Now Tonya, on the other hand, wears one of those little pink plastic fashion watches. I don't mind those things so much because they usually don't even have real numbers- maybe four little hack marks. I don't mind Tonya's watch at all because it doesn't have any numbers on it, and besides, it's usually about five minutes fast or slow. That's a good way to think about time. She's too old for the flimsy plastic, but I think it's kind of sexy in a tacky little way. Tonya is a tramp, and I say that with nothing but admiration. I'd love to be the kind of tramp she is. She knows she's pretty, she's not afraid of flirting and flashing a little skin, and she knows how to get off with whoever she wants. She dresses up in worn-out old clothes and dime-store crap, she wears bright "fuck-me” red lipstick and metallic nail polish that's always flaking off. A lot of people think she's weird, but the truth is that she doesn't have to care about primping herself or being fancy. She'd be wasting her time playing Barbie-doll with herself because she'd be just as gorgeous in burlap and twine. And, I have to admit... I want her. I've never done it with another woman before, but there's a first time for everything... if I only had the nerve. Me and the Cowardly Lion are old friends. I simply can't screw up the guts to really approach her. Every time I even think about it too hard I get a twisting sensation in my belly and my legs turn to mush. I get this swimming feeling in my head and seconds feel like hours. And with her fooling around with my boyfriend, I could no more try to make it with her than... than fly to the moon or turn back the clock. Besides, there’s something about Tonya that's really kind of otherworldly. It's almost like her feet don't touch the ground, but of course that's not it. There's just something about her that people can sense, it's almost tangible, and you're either drawn to it or it gives you the screaming heebie-jeebies. I'm drawn to it very strongly, but I've seen lots of people (including Jeff!) get so uncomfortable in her presence that they make up excuses to quickly put themselves some distance from her. So, it’s another lonely night with my horniness, and my fingers. I like to masturbate by stripping down in front of a full-length mirror first. I like looking at women's bodies, so I'm happy that I’ve got one. Sometimes I do a little dance; you know, grind my hips, shake it around a little... but that's not for tonight. No, tonight I need it slow and calm. I try to imagine Tonya's face on my body as I peel my tank top down off my shoulders and draw out my breasts from my bra, but it doesn't work. It’s me. I can't fool myself in the mirror. I put the straps back up and pull off the top regular-style over my head. I love the curve of my breasts as I lift my arms, so I hold it there for a second. I should have my bra off for this, it's all wrong. It's a dingy old one that used to be white, but now it's kind of gray and the elastic parts look all wrinkly. So the tank top comes the rest of the way off and I unhook my bra and put my arms back up. But the moment is gone. The hell with this- it’s not working. It’s got to be the direct approach or nothing at all. It's a mixed blessing, but I can “jerk" myself off realty quick and come every time, just like a guy. Its better than for some women who can’t come at all, but I only come once, really hard, and it doesn't linger the way it does when I’m making love- it's just gone. I'm usually still turned on afterwards, but I’m never motivated for a second helping. So, my right hand dives into my pussy and my fingertips twirl and swirl around my clit; my left hand goes to my breasts and gives my nipples a few sharp twists and tweaks to make 'em stand at attention. My juices start right up and I relax into a comfortable, steady strumming, eyes closed, head back, I'm on autopilot. My body does the rest. I'm thinking about Tonya. About the way her hips rock back and forth under her flimsy old thin skirts. Sometimes she wears old-fashioned bloomers or bicycle pants under her skirt and just lets it fly open all the time, hitches it up to sit down, or spreads her legs wide open. Sometimes she leaves more buttons open than she really should- if those tops even have those buttons- and wears a fancy bra or bikini top for everyone to see. Sometimes her straps are done up too tightly and they don't lie flat against her skin- they're stretched taught, leaving a beautiful little curve of her upper breasts bare, just begging to be stroked. Mmmm, that’s nice. Time to take off those bloomers, Tonya. That’s right. Let's see those thin little panties of yours. She tucks a finger into a leg hole to draw 'em aside... there's her lovely muff! Ohmygod. She’s got it trimmed around the sides, shaved like a bikini wax. That's so sexy. She knows I'm watching her now; were sitting on the couch and drinking red wine, she smiles at me and pulls her panties off. Silly little things, what do we need those for? She leans in close and slides her hips to point more at me, one leg bent and up on the couch, the other leg stuck out to the side with her foot on the floor. She wants me to kiss it Me? Really? I couldn't I... Oh, to eat her pussy... Ahh Uunnrmghl Unngh...! Uuuuuh…! And suddenly I'm at that moment where everything floats; my body is a mess of jangling, twitching nerves, I don't know where anything is or what's going on, I don't care. I'm vaguely aware of my body- somewhere off in space- pumping itself furiously and shuddering like a roof in a hailstorm. My glands are squirting whatever lovely brain chemical it is that makes me feel this way. All I see is a field of white, maybe there are some black stars or ribbons twisting through it. This place never changes. It’s the same every time I come. I see it fairly often, but I never manage to stay long. I wish it could last forever. I turn over and rest on my side. I'm satisfied, but kind of depressed. No, just sad. I'd never eat her pussy. I’d never get the opportunity. And even if by some impossible chance I did, I wouldn't know what to do. I've never kissed a pussy before. I probably wouldn't be any good at it. Oh Tonya, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. "Take off that shackle." Hmmm? Who said that? I must have drifted off to sleep. "You did. But this isn't a dream. You're wearing a timeshackle. please, you have to take it off right now." The voice is soft, close in my ear, and strangely familiar. Tonya? No. Who is that? It's not Tonya. It's a woman. I'm in bed with some woman? That doesn't make sense. I went to sleep alone. I open one groggy eyelid and sweep some of my hair out of my face. But its not my hair... wait, it is my hair, but its on somebody else's head. I can't focus on her face too well, but I recognize it instantly. It’s my face. I'm looking into my own face, on my own head, on another body just like mine in the bed with me, and she's naked like me, too. “No, you're not as naked as I am. You have that shackle on your wrist. It has to go. Come on now, wake up a little." Did she just say something about how naked we are? “How do you know what I’m thinking?" I hear my own voice- the one coming out of my throat, say. She takes my wrist and fumbles with the buckle on my watch- I’d forgotten about it before I drifted off. I'd taken off everything else in front of the mirror. "I remember it, that's how. I'm you. This me was you. You will be this me. Both of us are still me, and we're sharing the same time again." She's got my watch off now, she handles it like it's hot she holds it with two fingers like some dead thing and tosses it towards the opposite wall. That's okay- it's a Timex. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. Her hands are still on my wrist and upper arm, they're warm and alive and they're my hands too. "What? This doesn't make sense. How's it possible?" "I don't know. I’m new at this. But it can be done. I'm here, aren't I?" I looked across the room at the full-length mirror. Maybe... No," she said, "that's not it. I'm not from the mirror. Take a closer look at me." I did. She's right. My face, like everyone's, is just a little bit lopsided. I'm used to looking at a mirror image of myself, and she... me... didn't look like that. She... I... looks like I look in those department store mirrors that show you how you actually look to other people. She looks like I look in photographs. She also looks a little flushed. I touch her face with my fingertips. She raises her head and let my fingers graze down onto her neck. Her pulse is dancing just below her skin- her heart is pounding like a hammer. "I came back in time. Not from very long from now. I haven't even been out of bed, so don’t ask about what's gone on in the world. I don't know. The only thing I know is that you, dear lady, have a lesson or two to learn. We both do." "Lesson? what..?" "Shhh. I'll explain everything as well as I can. You're going to learn to be a time traveler, and you're starting right now. It’s not like it is in the movies. There are no big flashy machines involved. It's something you do with your mind. This, right here, is your first lesson, and my second. We're... I... both of us... me... are on the first few steps of a long and wonderful road." "I don't understand. What am I supposed to learn?" "I've been thinking about that question, and I remember what I... this me... said when I was you, and it's what I'm saying right now, and I'm sure it's right. You're supposed to learn confidence." That doesn't make any sense to me either. I ask a different question. “So what are you... that me... supposed to learn?" 'This is a practice run for me. At least that's what I was told." "By who?" "The me who was this me when I was you. Just right there like that." "I don't get it" "Me either. But we don't have to. This is just an awakening. There's plenty of time to understand it later." She seems anxious. Eager to get on with something. "You know something I don't. What is it?" "Of course I do, I’m from the future. I know everything you know now, plus what I’ve learned since, which I realty can't explain. But by now, I've already told you nearly everything I remember that other me telling me when I was you. But yes, I do know a secret, which you'll know when you're me, which will be soon, so be patient." "Who told you... who tells me this secret? Where does it come from?" "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Just open yourself up to this experience and you'll see.” "I already don’t believe any of this. What experience? Time travel?" "Well... yes and no. There's a way into something like time travel that we're already familiar with. It's... orgasms. I’m here to give you one. Another one." I gasp. I don't know if I’m shocked or turned on. Both, I think. "It's sort of time travel," she explains. "The moment of orgasm never really changes, you know that. No matter how many times you come back to it, it's still the same moment. Imagine being in a tent. Take the poles out, fold it up, move it to another place halfway around the world. Then, set it back up and go inside. Where are you? The same space. The same feel, the same smell. You're in the same tent. Orgasms are like being in the same tent in different places, but with time." "So...” I'm speaking slowly, "You- that me are here to make me- this me- come. And then... I go back into the same moment I'm in whenever I come?" She grins. "Uh-huh. I’m going to make you come by eating you out. I'm here- in part- to show you that I'm good at it There's no reason to be afraid of disappointing Tanya." I feel a burning sensation in my chest and face. I'm blushing. I can’t help but look away. “Hey, remember who you're talking to. I was you just a few minutes ago. I remember stroking off and thinking about her. The reason my heart was beating so hard just now? I just came. I came harder and better than I ever have in my life, and I came from getting cunnilingus from me- this me, who was this me when I was you. At least, that’s what my body was doing the last time I was in it It's hard to explain. But anyway, I know that even though I’ve never gone down on a woman before, I know I’m gonna do a fantastic job of it, since I remember how it felt." "If I let you, you mean-.” It sounds feeble as I say it- I don't even know why I bother. We both-I both- know how badly I want this. How badly I need it, I don't say anything else. I find myself sitting up and spreading my legs open. I'm dripping wet- more so than I ever imagined. She smiles and looks hungrily at my pussy. She gets up onto her knees and shuffles over to me. She totally messes up the sheets between her legs. Her breasts wag a little as she moves. She has a great ass-I guess I usually don't have such a good view of my own ass, but it’s nice and round and sexy. She's in position between my legs and leans down to give me a kiss on the mouth. Oh god, I wasn't expecting this. It's nice. Her mouth... my mouth... is soft and warm, and it makes sense that she kisses me exactly the way I like to be kissed. She would know. I feel her lips part slightly and the tip of her tongue flashes across the opening between my teeth. A shiver crosses my shoulders and zips down my spine to my hips, which thrust up against her. My body has a mind of its own, and it's responding to her beyond my ability to control it. "Do it..." I whisper. "Do it to me now. Please." "Shhhh. Don't talk. Get lost in it, There's just one thing you have to remember..." Her hands are on my tits and OW there goes one tweak to the nipple, just like I do to myself... of course... and OW there's the other and I can't take it anymore, just do it now, I need your mouth on my pussy... "When you're there, don't be afraid of where you can go. You'll find a doorway in that place. Go into it, Don't forget. Okay?" "okay, yes, oh please..." "What aren't you going to forget?" Her mouth is on my tits now, her hands circle my waist moving downwards. She licks at my hard nipples, making them cold. "the doorway, go into the doorway..." I'm breathing it as much as I’m speaking. My heart is pounding a mile a minute and my pussy is on fire. Her mouth moves down towards my pussy, I feel her tongue flick into my belly button and her head is down there now. I lean my head forward and take a look at her lovely naked ass sticking up in the air. She wiggles it a little for me- she knows I looked. I can feel her hot breath settling into my pussy hair and drifting across my lips. God, this is better than I could ever ask for. Her fingers part me open slightly. The anticipation is killing me. Ohhhh. There's a kiss. Just like her kissing me on the mouth. Now her tongue is tracing a slow circle around me, just inside my outer folds, along the edge of my inner ones. She's at the top and AH there's a little extra flick at my clit but it's gone before I can do more than gasp. Now she's finishing the circle. She does it again. Again. Again. I don't count I just enjoy It strikes me that she's doing it clockwise, and that she "strikes twelve" at the top. But her tongue is a crazy second hand, its wet and it keeps its own tempo; it belongs on one of those floppy watches in a Salvador Dali painting. My pussy is keeping a time all its own and it’s all the same to me! All I know is that it changes and repeats and I’m lost in it. Now her tongue runs in ripples up from the bottom edge of my hole, dipping in pretty deep, and emerging at the top up by my clit again and OH she's back down and OH she's back up and I need it slower and she knows and goes slower. Steady. Every instant of change is everything I am, I feel her lips running on the same track as her tongue just ahead and just behind it. Her upper lip is the future. Her tongue is the present. Her lower lip, her thick, luscious lower lip, is the past. She stabs deep into me with her tongue as if to say "This is the moment, the moment is now, now is forever, and everything else is just anticipation or afterthought." And she's right, god she’s right, there's nothing but now, time and space have dissolved in the river of sweet sticky syrup that flows through my cunt. Her tongue is a speedboat dancing on the waves of my bouncing wetness, it’s a red-hot poker reaming the guts out of my sloppy wet tunnel, my pussy the Dali floppy pocket watch, and I can't feel anything else, I don't want to, this is everything, and uuunnnnnh oh god I'm there. I’m coming, I'm coming HARD. I can't breathe, I can't see, by brain tingles around the edges like when my foot falls asleep. everything's white and the stars are out, too... I’ve never been here so long before... Unnnh... Some of the black ribbons are floating closer than others... that one right there's real close... she said to go through the portal… is that it? That ribbon? I can see into it... OH MY GOD! It's my last orgasm. That's me masturbating. That's me thinking about Tonya. I can see myself rubbing at my cunt and groaning and sweating and shaking. I look good when I cone. I had no idea I was that sexy. If I go into that ribbon, I'll be there with her... that’s what I should do. I don't know how, but I'm moving towards it. I just let it happen... As I go in, Another shudder goes through me. I'm still coming? Can’t be. No, I'm getting her orgasm here- the me that was her, over there. I see. Oh, I'm going to be there... then. I don't know how, but my body... is coming with me. What’s happening? Everything is all fuzzy... I’m not alone. There's someone else in here with me. It's not another me this time. It’s Tonya. "Hey,” she says. "I'm... not sure what to say first here, Dawn." I don't say anything. I'm about to walk into myself masturbating to orgasm, and here's the woman I'm thinking about when I'm doing it. "I should probably explain... I think this is on purpose." She smiles sweetly. “You're... a time traveler too." "I am now. But not... your now. At least not usually. This is your first trip, right? You told me all about it At least I thought you did. I sure didn't expect to run into you like this." "Let's start from the beginning." I try to sit but we're not in the kind of space where that sort of thing can happen. We're just kinda floating, and we're just kinda bodiless, but not really. You have to be there. Bodies? Now that I think of it Tonya's naked, too, but I can't tell how I know. “You taught me how to do this. Some future you, you will. We're lovers- then. You can visit if you like. I guess it's funny that you find out this way, but what the hell. That sort of thing doesn't matter. I do it a lot. We take trips together, but this time, you sent me on ahead to look at you like this," she gestures towards the me whose orgasm we’re sitting in the middle of, "And you said it'd be a surprise. You must have known you'd be here too. You sent me to help with the lesson." Circles in Time Nerves on end. Eighteen-year-old Karen picked up her duffel bag and shuffled down the highway. Out of one eye she followed the squad car's progress as it pulled away. The officer hadn't questioned her on the fake birth certificate she'd produced for identification. It seemed that the local highway patrol men were used to unkempt transients hiking through and were only interested in putting a name to whomever they might have to scrape off the pavement. The adrenaline left from the encounter had momentarily taken the edge off the dull ache that seemed to have set up permanent residence in her legs. She winced slightly as each step aggravated the blisters on her feet, and her back was stiff from sleeping in culverts and under bridges. Karen's last ride had dumped her out in the desert between Phoenix and Palm Springs. The man driving acted as if he'd consumed the contents of an entire liquor store. He had the speedometer pegged within seconds of picking her up, and although she knew the next city was a long way off, she was relieved when the man finally stopped to let her out. Karen plodded along, grumbling over her present circumstances, Alone in the cold, she loathed being out here, filthy and flea infested from not having had a bath in several days, and having nothing to eat but a bag of damp, stale corn chips she'd found on the side of the road. Karen felt an emptiness well up inside, and stifling unwanted tears, she cursed the world for putting her out on the streets. Bitterness and rage boiled up inside her. She told herself she didn't need anyone's help or company, ignoring the undercurrent of insignificant doubts that always accompanied this line of thought. Karen focused on the brake lights of a burgundy Lincoln halting on the roads shoulder a few hundred feet ahead of her. Her feet and legs responded grudgingly, as she tried to jog up to the waiting car. The man inside wore a light blue dress shirt and blue slacks. He had apparently kicked his loafers off into the floorboard. He appeared to be in his late fifties. His hair was snow white and so fine one could almost see through it. He was one of those people who looks as if they'd never lost their baby fat. His face and hands had a pinkish color that glowed hotter as he struggled to move a well polished, leather briefcase out of the front passenger's seat. The man appeared slightly nervous as Karen got in, telling him how much she appreciated the ride. It was getting dark, and the man asked if she had a place to stay. Karen felt a familiar foreboding and told the man she planned to continue hiking through the night. He explained that he had a motel room rented in the next town and that she could get washed up plus get a good night's rest. After several minutes of being prevailed upon by the man, Karen reluctantly agreed. She thanked the man and fell into a disturbed silence. At the hotel room the man found reasons to enter the bathroom several times while Karen showered. Later, after eating some of the pizza he had ordered, Karen lay very still, trying to feign sleep, acutely aware of the empty distance on the bed between herself and he. She felt him roll over and drape an arm around her. The man awkwardly wormed himself on top of her. His old, soft skin made Karen's skin crawl as she forced herself to lie still. After a while the man rolled back to his side of the bed, having finished soiling her recently cleaned body, He told her what a sweet little girl she was, and thanked her for not being mean to a lonely old man. Karen lay silently, staring at the ceiling. The next morning the man bought them breakfast and gave Karen three dollars for something to eat later on. He hugged her and seemed slightly distraught as he dropped her off on a road that led back to the highway. Karen bought a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches before walking out onto the road. Her clothes felt filthier than before since she hadn't had a chance to wash them when she showered. Her legs soon began to ache, and the blisters on her feet were broken again by the time she reached the highway. Karen struggled to dwell on the previous night's events. She finally gave up when a squad car pulled up on the road's shoulder behind her. Karen set down her duffel bag and reached for the birth certificate inside... Circles "Wait... you're saying I'm teaching myself to do this from the future... after I taught myself to do it?" “Uh-huh. That's the way it usually works. You just now introduced yourself to you, didn't you? Or aren't you just about to? It's so confusing to talk about, it's much easier to do. But yes, most of us teach ourselves that way. I'm really a kind of an exception, since you brought me in. Will bring me in. See, the words just get all confused.” "Us? There are others?" "Plenty of them. Women, men, going everywhen in all kinds of ways. You don't have to do it with sex. Some people do it with nostalgia. Some can dream the future. We'll meet them. But us loving each other is our favorite and best way. Or it will be, for you. For us." "That's nice. I'm.. I'm so glad about us. You don't know how badly..." "Yes I do," she interrupts. "I've been watching, remember? I know you re thinking about me in there. You've told me everything. We're very close. But you still have to do it You have to go get me. Don't worry You will." "Oh..." There’s so much to ask, so much to learn, but I don't know what to say. I'm caught up in the way she's looking at me... I don't know where we are... I was going... in there... I finally think of a question. "How are we here? There's no way I'm still in, uh, orgasm-land?” "Oh. I'm holding you up. You would have gone in there by now. Your first trip would be complete. I guess that's a good thing, because one of the hardest things to do is this- just hang out in the between-time. It's not too hard to go through, but once you've been here, really been here, like we are now- not that 'now' means much here. You can comeback whenever you want. Maybe this is how you're so good at it… Yeah. You'd do that to yourself. And I’d do it to you, too. You want to be here? You really want to be here?" "Yes, of course.” "Then be here with me. Be here with me for a while before you go in there. Back into this lovely come of yours.” She moves into me. J don't know how this works-she's kissing me. We’re just together, like two flames joining to burn brighter, she's... she's making love to me. God, I don't know how. I'm loosing it, I don't know where I end and she begins... I don't think I do end at all... Ahhh... Oh I don't know what's going on. I don't know and I don't care! Oh, this is everything! I'm everything, every moment of time, my whole being is spread out across the landscape like... a thin coat of sweat This is so complete, I could spend my life like this. I do spend my life like this, I can see that now. This is as much a part of me as I ever was, and I can be this way again if I every choose to stop. But I don't. I am this, with her, and time is a liquid stretchy thing that wraps around me like a blanket. There's enough of me to remain distinct. I don't know how, but I remember myself. I remember my desire, and I remember that there's still so much to do. I peel free from the everywhen where Tonya left me and I see myself below me, and I see Tonya and me talking and making love in the middle of that orgasm, so I go into the end of it where I- that first me- am drifting into sleep with that wristwatch on. Stupid thing will have to come off. How am I ever going to be a time traveler if I'm concerned with what time it is? I go in. It's time to teach myself a lesson. And then it'll be Tonya's turn. I can hardly wait. But then again, I don't really have to wait, do I? I can go anywhen I want! Circling the Drain I felt a sense of relief as I pulled into my driveway and noticed that Brian's Mustang wasn't there. He loved that car so much that I was jealous of it sometimes. If it wasn't there then neither was he. I hurried into the house and ran straight into our bedroom and the attached bathroom. I didn't wait to lay out any clothes I just stripped off my skirt, blouse and bra, leaving me naked. I really didn't know where my panties were, but that was a matter for later consideration. I turned the shower on full blast and felt even more relief as the pulsating nozzles washed away all the traces of semen from my face and body. I grabbed shower gel and a bath puff and tried as hard as I could to scrub my skin raw. The outside of my body was actually the easy part. Scrubbing my soul was much harder, and would take far longer if ever. Beating my husband home, and washing away the fact that another man's sperm was all over my face and hair was one thing. Washing away the fact that not only had it happened, but that this wasn't the first time from my face as I looked into my husband's loving eyes would be the hard one. I leaned back in the shower as the water fell on me and cried. Why did I start this? How had I let it go this far? Three months ago I was Laura Bell, loving and faithful wife to Brian Bell for the past 11 years. We had, or have a great family. We have a daughter named Janet, who is 10 years old. She was named after my mother, and is a very smart little girl. Timmy our son is the younger child and he was named after my dad. Brian's parents were killed in an auto accident years before we met and he didn't want the painful memories so we'd named the kids after their surviving grandparents. Our house is nearly paid off and we both have great jobs. In terms of our marriage, things really could use a little sprucing up in the bedroom but the rest of the house is fine. It wasn't that Brian didn't try, or that he didn't turn me on anymore, but let's face it you can't eat steak every day, made the same way every time, without wanting some chicken or fish every once in a while. But maybe that's just my excuse for what I've become. The worst part about it is that I truly love my husband and I would do anything for that man. If it came down to it, I'd lay down my own life so he could live. But then 3 months ago Donald Zimmerman invaded my department at the accounting firm I worked at and everything changed. Donald or DZ as he wanted everyone to call him was hired in as a manager. In less than 2 weeks he became an assistant director. 2 weeks later he was a full director and would probably become the senior director very soon. Donald was a force of nature. He was like the light you couldn't stare at for too long without going blind. He wasn't classically handsome, in fact my husband is actually better looking and in better shape. But Donald just had this way of looking at people that made women horny and men afraid. He is a predator, short and simple. If you cross his path, you get fucked, one way or another. I can still remember the first time he came into my office to drop off some files for some accounts he wanted me to take over. He had recently simply fired several of our account reps to make the department more streamlined and save revenue. He was now in the process of handing out their work to other account reps to take up the slack. "Bell, huh?" he growled at me in that deep voice. He looked me over as if he was looking at a piece of meat. He dropped off three thick folders on my desk, and before I could protest about my workload, he started growling again. "I'm glad that I didn't fire you," he said walking around my desk and continuing to stare at me. "Do you prefer miss, or are you one of those Mizz girls?" he asked. "Actually it's Mrs." I croaked nervously as I held up my hand and displayed my wedding ring. "Too bad," he said as he started to leave, "See ya later." Too bad, why; I wondered as I started looking at the large pile of work he'd left me. For some reason I couldn't get his image out of my mind. His suit was wrinkled and the top of his shirt was open a couple of buttons. His tie didn't match either his shirt or his suit and was just dangling around his neck. His shoes were scuffed and old fashioned. He obviously didn't take much time with his personal grooming, but he probably didn't have to. His whole aura just gave off some kind of weird animal magnetism that I couldn't explain. As I thought about him just barging into my office without even knocking and then leaving with that "Too bad," comment just hanging in the air, I noticed that my panties were already wet from just thinking about it. An hour later, just before lunch, my door slammed open and then closed again, before I could even register it. He rushed into the room and came around my desk grabbing me by my shoulders and standing me up. "Unh, no tits," he said as he looked me over again. "I guess it doesn't matter though for this." Before I could even react he pushed me down to my knees and started unbuckling his pants. I wasn't even shocked. I was just numb as he pulled out his penis and thrust it towards my face. Almost on auto pilot, I started to gently lick the head of his dick, giving no thought to my husband or our marriage. My vows of fidelity and my children were forgotten as well. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growled at me. "Suck it you whore." Then he just grabbed the back of my head and started literally fucking my face. While his dick wasn't any bigger, or thicker than Brian's, he was slamming it into my mouth with almost no regard for me. Several times it just forced its way down my throat and I couldn't breathe. Then mercifully he picked me up and bent me over my desk. He snatched my panties down and tried to rip them off. He couldn't though so he just cut them in half with my desk scissors. I knew it was coming. I knew what he wanted to do to me, but somehow I didn't scream out. In fact I think I really wanted it. I was waiting for it. I was so wet, that I was sure my pussy was dripping. Brian hadn't gotten me this excited in a long time. When his penis finally entered me I just surrendered to it. My legs spread apart so far that I had trouble walking for the next few hours. There was no foreplay, no gentle stroking or licking, he just rammed it in and took me. In the first few strokes I was already starting to cum, and my pussy belonged to him. He just kept slamming me over and over and then he started to cum as well. He just grunted and smacked me on my ass, and started pulling his clothes together. I slid down off the desk still dazed. My legs were still spread and his semen was running out of my vagina. I wasn't on the pill, what if he'd gotten me pregnant? "Married huh?" he smirked at me. "Why would anyone marry a whore like you?" Then he left slamming the door, as hard as he had when he came in. For the next few days I was racked with guilt. DZ came into my office whenever he felt like it and just used me however he felt like, and left. In the back of my mind I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I knew that it would probably end in disaster, but I was powerless to do anything about it. He came in one morning and bent me over the table, he said he liked it better that way because he didn't have to look at me, and I didn't have any tits anyway. That morning he noticed that I wasn't as wet as he expected, and he claimed my pussy wasn't as tight. "Who have you been fucking?" he asked me through clenched teeth. "Brian," I said in a nervous voice. "Who the fuck is Brian?" he demanded. "My husband," I sniveled, but I actually turned to look at him. "I have no intentions of taking seconds from anybody, so you're going to have to stop fucking him." That was the only time I displayed any kind of backbone. "Never," I snarled back at him. "Then you'll have to pay the consequences," he growled even louder. He bent me back over the desk and rubbed his rough hands through my vagina. This is a switch I was thinking, he doesn't usually go in for foreplay of any kind. I was of course, wrong. He rubbed my vagina and then smeared my juices on his dick and my ass and just forced himself into my other hole. I wasn't a virgin there either but no one had ever been so rough with me and I screamed out. "Shut up, ya stupid bitch," he said. "You really don't want anyone to find out about this, do you?" Things started to go downhill from that point. With DZ being anything but subtle it soon became known around the office that he was fucking nearly half of the female staff members there. A couple of them had complained and were soon free of his advances, but I seemed to be unable to get myself free. This inability, and the fact that most of my coworkers liked my husband, made me the office whore. Several former friends of mine, who worked there, had made it known that they couldn't wait for the next company party so Brian could find out. They all agreed that Brian didn't deserve the way I was treating him, but surprisingly no one told him. People I had worked with for years no longer respected me or even spoke to me. My only solace was that my family didn't know, or so I thought. My behavior had been affected over the last month or so, and Brian had noticed, but I didn't know it at the time. True to form he started to gently ask me what was wrong, and whether he had unknowingly done something to displease me. Of course I angrily denied it and told him I was just over-loaded with work at the office and would probably have to work more late nights. "Laura, are you having an affair?" he'd asked me. He'd just come straight out and asked me, face to face. The man I love was asking me if I was having sex with someone else. I did the only thing I could do. I lied my ass off. I looked into his beautiful eyes and laughed. "Are you crazy?" I asked him. "I'd never risk what we have, I love you too much. I love our kids and our life too much. That would never happen Doofus. I told you already I'm just loaded down at the office. You know they recently fired a lot of account reps and they divided all of the remaining work among the rest of us. I just have to get used to a new manager and a new caseload. I swear that's all it is." Then I pulled him to me and kissed him as if my life depended on it. I really believed that he'd bought it. I foolishly thought that his suspicion was over. I now know that it wasn't. In fact that was probably when he hired his PI to get the evidence. Two weeks later things had come to a head without me knowing it. My son had a play at school, and I missed it. I was supposedly called to stay after work at the last minute. In reality I was at a motel with DZ. I missed my son's first holiday play to let a married man, who didn't give a shit about me, practically rape me for an hour and a half at a cheap motel. Needless to say when I got home that night, my family was very disappointed in me. My daughter made several sharp cracks at me and neither, my husband or my son would speak to me. The biggest dagger in my heart came when my husband got into bed and rolled away from me, and actually pushed my hands away when I tried to touch him. Brian was always a man of few words and this time he said only "no!" but his meaning was clear. The next day we had a staff meeting where DZ was in his element going over all of the accounts, and berating the account reps that he thought mishandled them. He looked at Ira Bennington's account with Caldwell Machining. They were a company we'd handled for nearly twenty years. "Look at their bottom line, we need to get a bigger payment from them immediately," said DZ. "But we've done business with them for years," replied Ira. Their business sector is down across the country right now but it's cyclical. They'll come back." "Who fucking cares," snapped DZ. "They may or they may not. You said it yourself. We're in business with them. We're not fucking dating them. You need to get our money. Their business is circling the drain, they may come out of it, or they may not. We need to get what's ours, or we'll be circling that same drain soon." "Circling the drain," was DZ's catch phrase, he used it to describe any and all negative or neutral situations. I was really stressed out at work, and at home my husband and son, barely spoke to me. Brian had actually started sleeping in the guest room. And my daughter Janet was always talking back to me or making wisecracks. My family and my marriage were circling the drain and I needed to break DZ's hold on me before it was too late. I knew I needed to stop, but I couldn't. As I sat at the dinner table alone, Janet came into the kitchen. I asked her about her day, trying to start a conversation. "Why are you asking about me, isn't there someone else you'd rather be spending your time with," she sneered at me. My first thought was that she knew about DZ, but how? I wondered. I later realized that it was only a pre-teen's typical jealousy because her mom was spending so much extra time at work. But, before my mind realized that, my body reacted. I had never before struck either of my children, but my hand reached back and I slapped her across the face far harder than I'd intended. Even before I could say I was sorry and it was just stress, Brian was between me and Janet. He looked at her face and hugged her and then he looked at me. From the expression on his face, for the first time in my marriage I was afraid of my gentle husband. He calmed himself down and just said, "Straw." I didn't know what the fuck he meant by that then. He threw my car keys to me and said, "Go out for a drive and clear your head. Don't come back until you've calmed down and gotten yourself together. I'm serious Laura." When I came back I wanted so badly to hold my baby and apologize to her, but she was already asleep, with her dad sitting by her bed. When I opened the door and stepped into the room he simply shook his head at me, pointed to the door and nodded for me to leave. Before I left for work the next morning, Brian told me that he was going to take the kids on a vacation for a week or so, since they'd gotten out of school for Christmas anyway. He wanted to visit my parents and go to a couple of other places. "A family vacation is just what we need," I said. Do you want to wait a couple of days and I'll go as well. Or should I just join you, later?" "Laura, right now you're going through something, that you need to get over before you're ready to be with us," he said. "Maybe at this point in your life we're not what you need. You really do need to figure out what you want though because you can't have both." And he looked me straight in the eye when he said that. "You're schedule to work until Christmas Eve anyway. That's only a week away. Why don't you take some time to yourself and handle your problems and we'll see what happens then. I really hope you've solved this, because you won't get another chance." For the next week, which was last week, the house was lonely as hell. I got a chance to see what my life would be like without my kids, and without my husband. I cried every night. It felt like a part of my soul had been ripped out. I had given up the people who cared for me just for the excitement of being used and humiliated by a man who could care less about me. It wasn't even good sex it was just the thrill, of possibly getting caught, and the roughness and dirtiness of it. I had to break this off now before it cost me everything. At work for the past few days I've avoided DZ, like he was the plague. I began to realize that he really had no hold over me and he had as much to lose as I did. His wife could take him to the cleaners or I could report him to personnel. I left for work this morning, on Christmas Eve knowing that my family will be home this evening. I was happy I'd missed them so much. Just after lunch time DZ barged in. "Get out of my office," I snapped at him, finally growing a spine. "Come on whore, this is going to be our last time anyway, I'm getting tired of you," he sneered. "I'm tired of this whole fucking loony bin." Then he picked me up, pulled up my skirt and just started ramming me. It hurt like hell because I wasn't the slightest bit wet and he just didn't care. "This is the last time, seriously," I said and I meant it. I silently endured the pain thinking of it as penance for the past few weeks. I deserved to be hurt for what I'd done to Brian and my family. I realized that I'd always loved steak and I'd sought chicken and fish when I could have just spiced up the steak myself. I also realized that instead of complaining about my steak, I should have been glad just to have something to eat. DZ had noticed that I wasn't reacting to him slamming me at all. I just took it passively, which probably took all of the fun out of it for him. He pulled his dick out of my vagina and spun me around.Then he stuck his dick in my face and I went ahead and gave him what he wanted. I was struck with a mixture of relief, and revulsion. "After this we were done." He came quicker than normal and I wasn't ready when he just pulled it out and let his semen fly all over my face and hair. "Show that to your fucking husband," he snapped and then started laughing. "The thrill is definitely gone, babe," he said. "It looks like our relationship is circling the drain. Too bad, I was thinking of taking you with me. See ya." And then he left. He didn't even close the door. A few minutes later one of the assistant directors came into my office and handed me a slip of paper. I was called to a meeting the day after Christmas with the owner of the company. "But I was going to go out of town with my family then," I said. "The meeting won't take very long, probably no more than a half an hour," he said and left the room. "You can go home now though, everyone is leaving early today." I looked at my clock and noticed that I had just enough time to beat Brian and the kids getting home. As I stepped out of the shower and into our bedroom I slipped into a silk camisole that drove Brian wild. Under it I had only my tiniest panties and just put on a robe over it. For the past few weeks another man had owned my body, and taken it whenever it pleased him. My head was clear now, I was finally over him and I intended to spend the rest of my life taking my husband whenever it pleased me, starting with tonight. As soon as the kids were asleep he was mine, he would have no choice in the matter. I sat down on the couch in the living room and noticed for the first time that the house was decorated for Christmas. Oh my God I didn't buy them anything. How fucked up was I that I hadn't even bought presents for my own family. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I noticed several big boxes under the tree with my name on them. And of course Brian had put both of our names on all of the presents for the kids. On top of my stack of presents there it was, just as if nothing had happened. Every year Brian always gave me a big fancy card that told me how much he loved me. Only I knew what it meant. It was a reminder of where we'd come from. Our first Christmas together neither of us had a job or any money. The one thing we did have though was a dream of sharing our lives together and a bright future together. So that first Christmas Brian gave me a wonderful Christmas card with a very long hand written note inside. In that note he'd outlined our future together, how we'd get married, buy a great house, have kids, retire, travel the world and grow old together. Finally we'd be buried side by side so we'd be together in the next life as we had in this one; no matter what. I know that some women get angry if they don't get a diamond bracelet, or some fancy present that cost a lot of money for Christmas. Some even get upset when they don't get the right diamond bracelet, or the correct fancy present. Those cards meant more to me than any present you could give me because they were Brian's way of giving me something much more valuable. In his words he was promising me, his heart, his soul, his love, and his life, and they were far more precious than any hunk of crystallized minerals or trips. In fact the only time I'd been disappointed at a Christmas with Brian, was the first year that our income was at a level we considered decent. Brian had bought me a new car, and a diamond necklace. My parents and all of my relatives kept telling me how lucky I was. I think it was my mom who noticed it first. Circling the Drain She was asking me why I kept looking around under the tree. Finally when the kids were off playing with their toys and there was only Brian and I left, he asked me what was wrong. Besides my mom, only he had noticed that something wasn't quite right with me. "Don't you love me anymore?" I asked brushing back my tears. "Of course," he'd said wrapping his arms around me. "I love you more than ever." "Then, where's my card," I sniffled. Since then Brian has never forgotten, and I guess it's silly of me but I look forward to those letters inside the cards more than anything else. Brian tells me he loves me several times every day, well he did up until this trouble started. But seeing the words and his feelings written down is just so powerful, so permanent. Unlike when someone tells you something, and then goes back and says, "I didn't say that," or, "That's not what I meant," seeing the words on the paper gives them more power. It may be particular to me, but I also prefer it when they're hand written and not just printed out of some stupid computer. Anyway, there it was on top of one of my boxes, my card. I was tempted to just go ahead and read it now, but I wanted to wait and enjoy it while everyone else was opening their presents. The thing that hurt me the most though, was that during my recent lapse in judgment, besides his normal responsibilities at his job, and at home Brian had been doing a lot of the things that I was supposed to do. He had gone far beyond the call of duty trying to hold our family together. Our kids were not old enough to have any money, so they couldn't buy him anything, and I was just fucking pathetic. I hadn't bought presents for my parents, my kids or my husband. So as good as Brian had been this year there were no presents under the tree for him. I felt awful about it. Especially since despite our recent problems, that card sat there, staring at me. It made me feel even more guilty because I had neglected him, cheated on him, hurt our kids emotionally and physically; yet there it was, the token of his undying love for his cheating whore of a wife. I started crying and just fell asleep. When I woke up, it was Christmas day, and the house still felt empty. Where the hell were they? Maybe something had happened. I jumped up and ran to the phone to check the messages. There were only three messages in our voice mail. The most recent one was from someone in our HR dept. at work reminding me of the meeting tomorrow. The second message was from Brian, he said that they'd be delayed and I should go ahead and open my presents. The third was obviously a crank call some man screaming and cursing at me. I didn't even listen to that one all the way through I just put the phone down and sat back on the couch watching the slow ticking of the second hand around the face of the clock. The card sat the on top of my presents and I was dying to open it. I made a cup of coffee, and started trying to figure this out. They had been gone for a week, but they'd somehow come into the house and decorated it while I was at work yesterday. If they'd decorated the house they had to be back in town. Brian loved my parents and my parents loved him. They had probably gone over to visit my parents and either stayed the night, or had car trouble and would be home today. Temptation finally got the better of me and I decided to go ahead and open the card and read my letter. I wouldn't look at the card itself, I would only read a little bit of the letter. Then I'd save the rest for later when they were home. I picked up the large envelope, it was wrapped in a festive Christmas ribbon but it wasn't actually sealed. That would make closing it back up easier. "Laura," the letter began. That was unusual; Brian usually wrote "My Dearest Laura" or some affectionate nickname. "I know that these letters have come to mean a lot to you over the years. Far more so than the presents or any other aspect of the holidays, so I'm using this letter as always to tell you of my feelings. Before you read the rest of this letter please do me a favor and open the box that was under the letter." I opened the box and inside there was a folder, and a DVD, I put the disc into the DVD player and watched for as long as I could. A date stamp on top of the screen showed two weeks ago Tuesday. I remembered it because that was the day that I'd missed Timmy's play. It showed me going into the motel where I'd met DZ. Then the camera zoomed in on the date and the time. There was also footage, and really disgusting footage of DZ using me. Then thankfully it ended. When it started up again there was my little boy, my baby looking into the camera, and all he said was "mommy dint come ta my play," I started crying. The next section was obviously shot from inside my office, there was no date, but it was far worse. DZ simply came into my office, snatched me out of my chair, bent me over the desk, fucked me, and left. There was no resistance from me just a dumb blank smile that in itself was more damning than anything else. The video next showed the hallway outside of my office where several of my former friends were gathered. You could hear them talking about what a whore I was. Then DZ stepped out of the office and smiled at them. I wasn't stupid and I could see what this tape was designed to be used for. There were more scenes, some of them were far worse. Especially the one where DZ fucked me on the big table in the board room. I fast forwarded through them all to the end. I was nearly hysterical as I picked up the letter and began to read it again. My hands were shaking so badly that I could hardly make out the words. "Now that you know that I know. It makes this easier. I've had plenty of time to go over this in my head and figure out what my options are. I could have pretended not to know and hope that you still loved us and would eventually come back to us. I spent a lot of time on the internet recently and read a lot of stories about men who were strong enough to do that, unfortunately I'm not. There were also stories there about men who were aroused at the idea of their wives fucking someone else. Those really disgusted me because they're obviously the product of twisted individuals, and I pray for them. How could you love someone and want to see them fucking someone else? Anyway I couldn't even watch the video of you with that guy because it just hurt too badly. That gave me another option, confront you about it and beat the shit out of him or kill him. This letter is me confronting you about your problem. And it is your problem, not ours. Neither, I or our kids did anything to drive you away from us. You did this all on your own, so you'll have to fix it on your own. As to the second part if I killed your lover I'd end up in jail and I can't do that because I have 2 kids who need their father, especially since they've lost their mother. The bit of revenge I'm getting on him as we speak will have to suffice for now." "That only leaves me the question of us. Laura, as you know I have loved you since the first day we met. And I've always told you that we'd be together no matter what. Shakespeare said "Thus conscience doth make fools of us all," I understand fully what that means right now because I can not be true to myself and my own conscience and have anything further to do with you. But at the same time I told you we'd always be married. So I'm not going to divorce you, but you need to understand that I can't ever live with you again, and don't want to ever see you again. If you push this or try to find me in any way, I'll know it and I will file for divorce. When the videos in this folder come out and they will as soon as I hear that you've tried to find me. It will ruin your life and any hopes of moving on in whatever career you have left." The letter then told me to open the next box. Inside there was another DVD, I put this one in the player and turned it on. This was the part that really sent me over the edge. The three of them were there together. It looked like it was done in one of those places you go to for family portraits. Brian looked so handsome and yet so sad, I didn't know whether to go and hug him or try and screw him. Timmy was also looking sad. Only Janet was smiling as she looked into the camera. "Mommy, I sorry you don't love us anymore," said Timmy. My heart clutched in my chest as if it would stop beating. "We want you to be happy, so we're gonna go far away. We'll miss you." Brian started to say something to the camera and couldn't. My big strong husband was crying over something I'd done. It was just too much for me. He just couldn't manage to get it together enough to say goodbye to me, so he turned to Janet. Janet just smiled and stared right into the camera, and said simply "Bye," and then threw in "bitch." "Janet that was unnecessary," was all I heard Brian say and then the screen went blank. In times like these the little things stick out. The thought that kept going through my mind was "If it was so un-necessary why'd you leave it in? Why let the last words I'd hear from my daughter for a very long time be her calling me a bitch? I know I deserved it but to actually leave it that way was beyond cruel." I just sat there and cried and stared at the walls for a while. Then I picked up the letter and tried to finish it. "Laura I didn't enter what I'm going to do rashly, I gave you every opportunity to either come clean or stop what you're doing. Both before and after you slapped my daughter, I practically begged you to stop. I was fully willing to take you back no questions asked, because I believed that the kids needed you in their lives even though I could never have trusted you again. Hitting my child was the "Straw" that broke the camel's back. Until then our marriage was in trouble, that day only exacerbated it. I was still willing to give you another chance though because once again, I loved you so much." My mind grabbed at that sentence. I have one more chance. I have to be the best wife and mother I can, because they're only giving me one chance. I continued reading. The letter continued, "But even today, Christmas Eve, the day we were supposed to come back to you and start over, you continued. While the kids hung a few ornaments on the tree I checked my video feeds one last time and there he was coming in to your office this morning, to claim what should have been mine alone." God damn it Brian, I thought. It is all yours, this was only a stupid fling, just one tiny meaningless bump in the long road of our life. I looked at the letter again and read, "I had already made my plans and I had some help with them from your Dad, so all I had to do was leave, since you weren't willing to give him up. Your lifestyle is obviously more important to you than I am, and also more important than our kids so we've left to start a new life somewhere else. Since these letters are so important to you, every Christmas I'll send one to you from wherever we are, through your parents in case you move. I'll make sure to include a picture of the kids so you can see them as they grow. And when they're old enough to make their own decisions, I'll let them decide whether or not to come and see you. I wish you all the best. And hope that you can find the happiness you need, and though it breaks my heart, I'm giving you the freedom to find it. I'm sorry if we were in your way. We always loved you." And it was signed "Until, next Christmas. Brian." I sat there in shock, this couldn't be true. I got up and went upstairs. All of Brian's clothes were gone from his closet. All the kids' clothes were gone as well. Their favorite toys and games, all gone; they had taken everything except the furniture. I suddenly had a thought; my dad could probably help me. He had a lot of ties to the government from his former job and he might be able to put me in touch with someone who could help me track them down. I didn't care what it did to my name or my reputation I just wanted my family back. There was no way I could last until next Christmas, to hear from them. Brian was the only man I wanted, why didn't he know that? I didn't bother putting on any clothes. I just ran out of the house and got into my car. I broke several traffic laws getting to my parents' house. I knocked on the door and saw a head in the window at the top of the door. It was my Dad. I waited for him to open the door. After a few minutes had passed the door still didn't open and I was sure he had seen me. I started knocking at the door again. Finally my mom opened the door and asked me what I wanted. I noticed that she hadn't opened the door all the way and also had not invited me in. "Mom I need dad's help with something," I said trying to hold back my tears. "Do not let that whore into my house," I heard my father bellowing from inside. Then it hit me, the voice from the phone message, the one I thought was a crank caller had been my Dad. "Laura, you need to give your father some time to calm down," my mother whispered to me. "Mom there isn't any time for him to calm down, I've got to find Brian," I screamed. My dad stepped up to the door way and pulled the door open. "I can't help you find them, and even if I could I wouldn't," he screamed at me. "But dad you know people," I said. "And it's the people I know who provided him with their new ID's so he can start his life all over again. I even paid for it. I don't even know what state they're living in, but if I did I wouldn't fucking tell you. He's promised to bring them for visits in a neutral area whenever I want. And send lot's of pictures. Laura, I know you're my daughter, but you've cost me my fucking grandkids because you couldn't keep your fucking legs closed. And Brian, that poor man thought the sun rose and set just on you. And you really fucked him over. You had it all, nice house, great kids and a man who really loved you, I hope it was worth it. If your mother ever tried that with me, I'd have put her in the ground. But he just kept waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and close your legs. When I saw that fucking video, I wanted nothing else to do with you. I just kept wondering what happened to the woman I raised. Are you on drugs, maybe some kind of slut-making steroids?" My Dad just stared at me as he said this and then just turned away. My mother didn't know what to say to me either she just waved goodbye and closed the door. I spent the rest of that day crying in my bed. The next day I was in no mood or shape to go to the meeting at work. When I was 30 minutes late they called me. The meeting had been set up to formally notify me that I had been terminated, and that the company was suing me. Brian had sued them for failing to enforce the morals clause in my employment contract. The video had been very damning since it clearly showed that many who worked there knew about DZ and me. They had also fired DZ. That was what he'd meant by taking me with him. Brian was also suing DZ, and DZ's wife was divorcing him as well. The company had settled out of court with Brian for several million dollars, and was trying to recoup at least some of its losses by suing DZ and myself. "Circling the drain," that expression DZ used to describe everything. Ever since I'd met DZ my life had been circling the drain and now Brian had just flushed the toilet.